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jimilter · 1 year

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the odds on us | k.th. (m)

It would all be easier if you just believed in fate; you could say meeting him was destiny and the odds of fate were just against your union. Too bad you don't. Too bad it was Taehyung that wasn't serious about your future. Too bad he won't leave you alone even a year after your break-up. Too bad you want to kiss him when you have a date with someone else tonight. Too bad you're still in love with him.

pairing: taehyung x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | exes to lovers!au | slice of life!au

word count: 15.5 k

— warnings: swearing + mentions of: alcohol, gambling, criminal associations + a lil emotional breakdown + some crying + some toxic behavior from their past + kim tae’s duality :] + explicit sexual situations (dom!tae, sub!reader, thigh riding, oral (f.&m.), vaginal fingering, hand kink, fingers kink? (yn is obsessed w his fingers and want to swallows them 🧍‍♀️), size kink, breast play, cum play, creampie, marking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, choking, dirty talk, endless teasing, restraints, unprotected penetrative sex, spit kink (???), Monster Cock Tae™) + they’re both idiots if you squint :)

— note: so ash decided we shall all cry on tae's birthday, everyone good with that? good. (: lmaO there’s way too much smut in this to make up for it, dw! :>

this fic started off for the ny22 fest i and @knjsnoona hosted last year, but i dropped the idea bec it wasn’t angsty enuff. this was at 5k tho, so i decided to finish it up for tae day instead of scrapping it <3 also, she might not even remember it, but the credits for naming this baby go to my precious soybean, @missgeniality thanks a bunch, honeybunch 🥺

hope you guys like this! pls leave me some feedback~💜

submission for the December Games hosted by House Taeros.

❂ Nightmare Before Christmas ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee @inkedtae through @bangtansorciere

⤐ AU Type: Spiral Hills - Exes to Lovers ⤐ Themes: New Beginnings | Slice of Life ⤐ Kinks: Breath Play, Bondage, Hand Kink, Thigh Riding, Oral Fixation, Finger Sucking, Cum Play, Overstimulation

— masterlist | taglist | feedback?

It’s a Saturday night, this New Year’s eve – stepping into the new year with a lazy Sunday feels symbolic of the kind of year you’re gonna have, to be honest – which has caused traffic to be moving at a snail’s pace, tonight, because crowds of regular partygoers are combined with New Year’s partygoers and literally the entire city is on the streets. Which would suck a normal amount on a normal night when you returned from work, but it sucks especially bad tonight, because you’re in a hurry to get home.

You have to get ready for a date. Something you haven’t done in a really long while and are half afraid you’ve forgotten how to.

It is with struggle that you get off the bus on the corner of your street, given how many people want to push in through every door to board the transport, and you stumble a few steps until you have righted yourself and are walking down the couple of houses that separate you from your apartment building. Your handbag is heavy with a gorgeous necklace that your date gifted you when you were leaving work, having adorably run two floors down his department to say goodbye to you, alongwith the promise of your first official date, tonight.

A part of you feels hopeful about the prospect of you finally stepping into the world of romancing again. But another part…

You stop yourself from thinking too much. Nothing good can come out of reminiscing the bygones. Your past experiences bear no impact on what will become of your future. You have been very happy – and then you have been very sad. You're mostly numb now, aware of both the highs and lows of love.

Shaking your head at yourself, you instead focus on thinking up accessories to pair with your burgundy, plunging neckline wrap dress, now that you already have a necklace to accompany it. You also have a gorgeous black velvet coat that would pair up great with it.

A sense of foreboding suddenly rushes your way out of nowhere, but you push it away. No room for second thoughts, now. This date is a good idea – you’re gonna feel great once you’re at the restaurant.

Quickly stepping in and out of shower, you’re still in your bathrobe, blow-drying your hair, when your doorbell rings.

A mini heart-attack renders you immobile for a moment, but then you look at the clock to find it minutes past seven o’clock. You are to leave at eight. Your date cannot possibly be this early.

Your breath of relief is very, very quickly stolen from you, though, when you realize two things at once – one, it’s the fourth Saturday of the month; and two, your earlier sense of foreboding has its roots in muscle memory.

Even when your mind was far removed from the thought, your anxiety knew to kick in right on time. God.

"Good evening!" The wide, boxy grin that meets your scowl when you open the front door is as shameless as it is every month.

Your groan follows like clockwork, too, just as your eyes ignore the waves of his soft hair that have grown and the way his shoulders fill out the black and white Fila sweatshirt he wears with practiced ease as well. Kim Taehyung can force his way into the room where he's left his stuff behind, but you forbid him any access to your heart anymore.

You give the guy a disappointed shake of your head. "It’s literally packed out there tonight, couldn’t you skip this nuisance for once, Kim?"

“Uh, this isn’t a nuisance, hello?” He has the audacity to sound offended. “Besides, I needed something urgently, so…” He trails off, looking you up and down with a curious stare. “Why are you in a… robe? Were you showering? At this hour? Why? Going somewhere? What—”

“None of it is any of your business.” You purse your lips. “I came back from work, I’m showering. Maybe I have engagements, maybe not. None of it involves you.”

His eyebrows shift and forehead tightens, and you resolutely ignore the way his worried eyes still manage to soften your glare. “Only asking as a concerned friend.”

“You’re not—”

“You shouldn't be opening the door in a bathrobe,” he speaks over you, gaze changing shades as it trails down to your collarbones and then runs down your exposed legs. “What if someone came here with malicious intent?”

The sudden sizzling heat that melts his brown irises is a declaration of his own malicious intent enough. Your eyes catch his elegant fingers braced on the doorjamb and it takes a very strong effort by your willpower to not imagine them touching you in the most intimate ways. It's harder because you don't really have to imagine, only just recall.

Swallowing past your suddenly dry throat, you rip your gaze off of your arguably most favorite part of his anatomy and stifle your bodily reactions by reminding yourself of how wrong it is for you to feel this way especially today. Channeling the frustration you feel, you shoot him a glare.

“You’re literally the only person that bothers me on the last Saturdays of the month, religiously ruining my weekend.”

His cheek ticks up, annoyingly attractive, tongue escaping to flick at his lower lip, admitting distracting. “So you do wait for me. Knew it.”

“Did you not hear the ruining my weekend part?”

“Your weekend nights consist of eating Rocky-Road from the tub and re-watching dumb Marvel TV series.” He gives a snort. “I’m hardly ruining anything, here.”

You kinda wanna slap him for being a smartass. You kinda wanna kiss him because it is so hot. You also kinda wanna go back in time and undo some of your actions that led him to find these things out about you. Because he is not wrong and you hate that all the more.

You also hate yourself for how naively you handled things after your breakup, too. You should have talked to your landlady about redoing your lease deed for the rest of the eighteen months with just your name. She is a nice lady, she might have understood. And you should have thrown all of Taehyung’s boxes out, the week after he left. What were you thinking telling him it was okay if it took him a while to get all his stuff? His definition of ‘a while’ has extended up to a year, this visit being a week after the one-year mark of your separation that happened last Christmas.

You’re pretty sure he realizes that you aren’t wholly unaffected by his monthly visits to your place, and exploits the knowledge to its full potential by sending you unnecessarily dark and lingering glances when he knows you can catch him looking. You don't even wanna think about what he would do if he knew you still think of the mind-blowing orgasms he used to give you, when you curl up with your hands between your legs; your hands that are so much less rewarding than his, with your shorter fingers and softer palm. He has been trying to woo you since literally a month after you kicked him out. Resisting him is physically and emotionally painful.

It's pitiful how a part of you fills you up with guilt upon having Taehyung grin at you with all of his teeth right as you’re about to get ready and go have dinner with a man that is not him.

It leaves you with an unsteady feeling inside of your head. Even though it has been a year. Even though it was you that ended things with Taehyung. But then, maybe it is the fact that you were the one to end things that bothers you so much. You essentially broke the guy’s heart even if he broke your trust first.

You wonder if he is affected by these visits at all, or if this is just a game for him.

You blink, realizing you have brought on a pounding headache by thinking the exact thoughts you always want to hide away from. Sighing, you shake your head in a very late response to his quip about how you spend your weekends.

He doesn’t wait for you to let him in, as per usual, and shoves his way into your apartment with those broad shoulders of his.

You still try to put up a weak protest, "Listen, I am busy tonight, so make a quick work of—"

"I won’t take long, babe, I never take long!" he sing-songs, throwing a grin at you over his shoulder. "Do I?"

Why do you come at all? Why not take your forty-seven boxes and leave me the fuck alone? You wanna ask, but you don’t.

You never do.

What you do is grudgingly shut the door, and thump your forehead against its hardwood.

This is gonna be hard. Because Taehyung has been in your apartment for all of three minutes, and you’re already starting to dread tonight’s date more than you’re looking forward to it. Maybe it is because you really don’t wanna tell your ex about it but will be forced to if he eats up more of your time and you have to rush him. Or maybe, it is because of reasons that shouldn’t even be there, with the anger you still hold in your heart for him even after more than a year.

You hate yourself for feeling this way, too, because it is unfair. Daniel from HR is a handsome, kind and decent guy – it is so unfair for you to dread spending an evening with him when he has been a gentleman to you for months. Even your supervisor flashed you a thumbs-up when she witnessed Daniel giving you that necklace and your responding blush. You should be happy you are going on a date with such a nice guy, dammit!

But some hidden, despicable part of you doesn’t even want to think of the events that await you tonight when you look at Taehyung. And it's horrible – pathetic, embarrassing, ugly – for you to have such thoughts after everything you’ve done to the two of you. If it wasn’t for you, you and him would still be together. You decided you were not good for each other. You kicked him out of your heart and your house.

You don’t get to look at him with any hope anymore.

Parting ways from him was important, right? He wasn’t unfaithful in his commitment, after all, he had just lied to you about his professional affiliations. Maybe "professional affiliations" is too light a term to use for the hole of gambling he fell into, lying to your face when you would ask him about it. Parting ways from him was important. It was. Furthermore, it has been a year. You should have already made peace with it.

So why haven’t you?

Well, you sort of have. For the most part, if you ignore your desperate calls for his name while you're chasing a high.

It is only when Taehyung shows up and forces you to interact with his gorgeous eyes and sultry voice and sexy hands and…and all his quirks that you had taken your time memorizing, that your resolve falters and you are sent back into contemplation of whether you did the right thing.

God.

What a mess.

Drudging in after him, you lean against your kitchen counter while he walks into the room that used to be your shared bedroom when he lived here. You've long since moved into the spare room that used to be his studio where he practiced scenes for his acting auditions, or when he got a gig, every once in a blue moon. Heavy sounds of the cardboard boxes being dragged around and packing tape being ripped open echo about the otherwise empty room, grating on your braincells and making you want to tear your own hair out.

Kim Taehyung is a real pain in your ass. He makes you wish you could physically block people in real life.

God. If only you’d known what you thought was beautiful happenstance will one day come to this.

You met him two years back when the two of you were stood up by your respective dates at a restaurant. It felt like a lucky coincidence at that time, and you both believed your meet-cute to be fate and spent the rest of the night together, roaming around the city, sharing milkshakes and talking. You came to know he was an acting school graduate who had just quit his team at a local theatre and was going through auditions for cinema and ad films. You were intrigued, amazed, and to be honest, more than a little enchanted by his beauty. A nine-to-five worker yourself, his eccentric choice of career felt like a breath of fresh air to you, turning your boring days bright and springy once you two started dating.

Until – it was a year later and he was still going through auditions with no permanent source of an income. If he ever earned anything, at all. With the both of you crossing your mid-twenties and soon to be of the age where you would start to plan your future, family and other things, his instability worried you very much. When you eventually brought it up with him, he ambiguously told you he would get more small-term contracts and change things around.

That was when, out of nowhere, notes started to roll in. And you foolishly believed all the lies Taehyung would tell you when he would bring home money, every other week. It was cash and it wasn't even regular, but you took his explanation about it coming from small acting gigs as sensible.

How did you not suspect something was off? Still escapes you. Maybe you were so desperate for a trace of stability and insurance in your rickety life that you just took whatever you got without a second thought.

God, you were so right to not believe in fate. Look where an accidental meet-up had landed you in three years.

“Is this my t-shirt?”

Taehyung’s shrill call jolts you out of your regretful thoughts from the past, and you roll your eyes, walking into the room he is in.

The sight that greets you has you momentarily freezing in your spot, before you gather your wits and rake up enough confidence to level your gaze with him.

“What?” you enunciate blandly, despite having full knowledge of the what – along with the why, the how, and the since when that he may follow with.

Taehyung’s elegant fingers have, hanging from their pinched grasp, a t-shirt – one of his t-shirts. One of his t-shirts that you use as a night shirt, to be very specific.

In spite of having known him for as a friend and as a lover, you still cannot fully read the clouded look in his questioning eyes when he asks, “Why do you have my t-shirt?” without preamble, voice low and gaze a little bit lost.

Your fingers bunch up into a fist, disguising as an anchor to ground you. "I… wear it?" Wow, are you questioning him? You reiterate with more conviction, and emphasise, “I wear it.”

His eyebrows hike up. "You wear…" He looks down at the nearly tattered piece of fabric, twirling it around to grimace at its withered condition. "You wear this rag?"

Your ears, already warm at this entire confrontational conversation, feel like they've been set on fire at the confession you have been forced to make.

"I…" You look away and cross your arms against your chest to put forward a composed front. Your fingers are trembling and sweat droplets are running down your neck. "I wear it to bed."

Taehyung gives an audible gasp at this, and now you just want the ground to swallow you up. Embarrassment colors your face red hot.

"You wear… you still wear my t-shirt to bed?" he confirms, looking at you in awe.

He looks nothing short of a lost puppy, gazing at you with big, sparkling eyes and rounded lips. Your earlier embarrassment is immediately replaced by unbridled affection that bleeds from your heart and is pumped into your body with a melancholic thrum.

You swallow the lump that rapidly forms in your throat, pursing your lips to not let yourself be lost in a world of nostalgia.

No.

You left him for a reason. And he never even fought for you, did he? No.

He lied to your face when you talked to him about settling into a stable job. He never even intended to come clean, did he? No.

He got into gambling when you needed him to get serious about your future together.

Did he even want a future with you?

You don't know.

"Right now I kinda wish I'd burnt all the stuff you left behind," you mutter, twisting your lips in a sneer, and release a subtle breath of relief when Taehyung's expressions morph from adoration to mischief – you can take him being a shameless flirt; you can't deal with the guy whose heart you broke. "If only," you continue, "to save myself from you knocking at my door every damn month."

He raises a teasing eyebrow, rolling back on his heels to scoff at you. "That doesn't answer my quest—"

"It's comfy, okay?" You roll your eyes and look away from his cocky smirk. "And threadbare. And really cosy, so shut up. Can you stop snooping and grab whatever you want, already?"

“You’re really in a rush today,” he observes, head tilted back and eyes slightly narrowed at you. “Where did you say you were going, again?”

“I didn’t.”

Your blank stare is unwavered even when his slowly deepening smirk sears the lining of your stomach. You are willing to throw up the butterflies in your stomach, if it comes to that, but you won’t let him have the upper hand with all his damn seduction tactics. You already know this sight is going to haunt your sleepless nights for weeks.

“What the heck are you looking for today, anyway?” you challenge him with a ticked eyebrow, surprised when his smug face turns startled in a flash. This time, you are the one that smirks. “What? Didn’t think this through, for once?”

His eyelids flutter and irises jump around the sclera – as if he’s looking for an escape in his surroundings. “Um. It’s… uh… My �� my Zippo..."

"Your what?" You blink, clueless.

"My Zippo." He makes a gesture with his hand, closing the fist with a thumbs-up at you and then knocks the thumb over the top of his closed knuckles twice. "A windproof pocket lighter... my grandmother got me... from America?"

...what?

He’s got to be fucking kidding you.

You stare at him. “A pocket lighter.”

He nods.

“That your grandmother gifted you.”

He audibly and visibly swallows, but nods again. Your eye twitches.

“And she bought it from America.”

“Uh…” He looks up at the ceiling. “Yes?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No?”

“Kim Taehyung, I swear to God—”

“Hey, help me find it and I’ll be out of your hair!”

“What the—how? It's not even real, you obviously just made it up!”

He looks appalled at your hiss, bracing both his arms on his waist. “It very much is real.”

“No, it’s not!” You brace your arms on your own waist to mirror him. “Your grandmother’s never been to America!”

“Well…” He scratches the back of his head and finally loosens his shoulders in a shrug. "Yeah no, she hasn't."

“I’m going to kill you,” you declare, ready to launch an attack on him, only stopping when he raises both his palms up in surrender.

“Wait, wait! Maybe she got someone else to buy it, come on!” He actually, physically, stomps his feet. “At least let me look for it?”

You have no idea why an old woman would give her grandson an expensive, imported windproof lighter when he doesn't even smoke. But that, apparently, won't deter Taehyung from ripping your spare room and then the living room apart to look for it. As if you would open his boxes to thieve off a damn lighter, even if it actually existed.

It has been more than half an hour of him jumping around the entire space when he finally returns to your curled up self on the living room couch. Good thing he does, too, because you've only got twenty minutes to spare to dress up.

“I can't find it,” is his declaration.

You groan in mental pain. “Obviously you can’t because it doesn't exist. But now that you’ve overstayed your welcome and nearly ruined my plans for the evening, would you mind leaving? Or would you rather be a huger asshole and stay for dinner?”

Taehyung’s eyes are lined with mirth when you look at him, only becoming clearer and calmer when your deadpan doesn’t deter.

He finally gives a sigh, running a hand through his gorgeous turf of dark hair and sits on the couch a few feet away from you.

“Did I really ruin your evening plans? I’m sorry, I didn't intend to…”

His concerned frown makes it look like he really didn't and that confuses you. Because where was this concern and understanding when you kept telling him that your overtime was draining you but you couldn't stop because you needed to make savings if you were gonna move into a bigger apartment together? When you hoped he would take your life together more seriously and contribute to it with more than just his dick?

It shouldn't be surprising how quickly disdain and anger fills you.

Looking at him with nothing short of embers raining from your angry glare, you scoff loudly with a humourless chuckle. "You didn't intend to? Please. Why pretend you care now, when you didn't when it mattered? When it was about our future? About the life we could've had together?"

A thousand shades wash over his face – ranging from shock to anger until he finally settles with something that looks a lot like the pain you have felt in his absence every single day, but refuse to let yourself admit to.

His voice is quiet and timid when he mumbles, “I didn't… It wasn't my intention to make it seem like I didn't care about our future… I always cared."

"As if I'm gonna believe that.” You shake your head.

He is about to say something when your phone rings on the seat between the two of you. Both of your pairs of eyes catch Daniel's name at the same time, and you can almost physically feel the air around you turning crispy with tension.

"Da-ni-el," Taehyung enunciates, throwing the syllables out as if they taste sour in his mouth. "Is this your evening plan that I almost ruined?"

You ignore his remark and receive the call, putting your phone close to your ear and subtly lowering the speaker's volume.

“Hey,” you greet your date that you just texted about possibly being a bit late because of an emergency at home. "I'm really sorry—"

“Hey, please," Daniel interrupts you with a very worried call of your name, followed by, "is everything okay? Please tell me if you need my help with the emergency! Are you okay?"

Your heart weighs down with guilt and your eyes shoot poisonous arrows at the emergency sitting next to you on your couch. "No, Dan, everything is under control now. I just…need a little more time. Can you please pick me at eight-thirty instead, please?"

Your attention is admittedly more on the fury that takes over your ex's face rather than the hurried, stumbling agreement poured into your ears. But you can't help it when anger looks so hot on him. The sharp edge of his jaw, the tensed muscles in his neck – and the visible veins on his clenched fist…fuck.

You subtly press your thighs together, looking down into your lap to escape Taehyung's sharp gaze.

"Of course!" Daniel jovially exclaims and as you bite back a wince, you hope Taehyung can't hear how high pitched and borderline shrill his voice is compared to Taehyung's own sultry one. "I'll be there at eight-thirty, don't worry about it!"

You hum and say goodbyes.

"You are going on dates now?" Taehyung’s face is unreadable again which makes you slightly nervous about what he could be thinking.

But you still stare right into his eyes and move your head in slow nods. "Of course, I am," you say it as if it's obvious, when in reality it has been a long and difficult journey that you are still not done reaching the destination of. When it is still his name you cry out when you have your fingers buried deep inside of you. But you don’t want him to know that, so you shrug your shoulders. "Aren't you?"

“Obviously not. You are it for me," he says without missing a beat, simply and calmly as if the words aren't meant to have any affect on you. "Since that fateful day in that coffee shop? You have been it for me."

The confession is so raw and so unexpected, it makes you catch your breath. There's no modulation in his voice, no expression on his face, but his eyes? You haven't seen them look any sadder than they do right now.

"Why the hell would I even try when my heart's always been yours?" He doesn't stop though, sliding closer to you on the couch as he looks deep into your eyes with liquid pain collected on his lids. “But I guess you've been trying to return it for a while, huh. I can see I'm no longer welcome here.”

You find yourself at a loss.

The broken emptiness in his eyes and the tears clinging to his long lashes crumble your heart to dust. He is here, he still loves you – you want nothing more than to capture his lips in a kiss and never let go.

But at the same time, you also know all the reasons why you shouldn't.

You've seen this happen before way too many times. You know the pattern. The gambling was just the last straw that broke the camel's back, Taehyung's insincerity towards your relationship had started right about the time when you started to plan your upcoming life together. After every fight you two would have, he would come begging for another chance and you would give it to him again – putting your trust in his palms, asking him if he was serious about your future, and believing him every time he said he was. And each time, he would prove you to be a fool in love, breaking your trust.

But no more.

So despite the way his forlorn gaze tears at you, you put on a brave face and shake your head.

“No, you’re not,” you simply tell him, putting up protective walls around yourself as you go, forcing yourself to not give a second’s thought to the look on his face that mirrors the one you put there when you broke up with him. “And you haven’t been, since the very day I asked you to leave.”

A lone tear rolls down his cheek, which he tries to hide by quickly moving his head to face the other direction.

It takes everything in you to not reach out to cup his face and wipe it. Because no. This is the right thing to do. It may hurt the two of you now, but you’ll be grateful in the long run. You convince yourself that you’d rather have a messy break-up now than an irreparable divorce five years later. Because that is what the two of you were headed to – an uncertain future that would crash and burn.

“I know you have been trying to make your way back to me by all these excuses of needing some or the other imaginary object, but you really need to stop, Tae, and…” You falter at your slip of his name – the name you have pointedly avoided for a year.

Taehyung notices, too, red eyes looking at you again. “You think,” he begins in a throaty, choked murmur, “I come here to win you back?”

You falter. Isn’t that why he comes to you? You’re sure he’s about to throw another excuse at you, until he releases a low, self-deprecating chuckle.

“I come here because I know I can’t win you back,” he slowly says, confusing you and making tears lodge into your throat at the same time. “I come here because I miss you and I don’t know how else to see you…”

The back of your eyes start to burn with the urge to cry, but you repress it.

You try to think of something to say, but come up blank. You're stumped. He doesn't know that he doesn't even need to win you back because of how much he still has you. If he'd tell you he wants to try again – really try – you'd welcome him back with open arms. If he'd tell you he doesn't wanna dabble around with criminal activities anymore and wants to settle down with you…God, you would drop everything and run to him.

Telling him any of that wouldn't be the best action to take when you're trying to move on. So you keep shut, looking at him in silent longing that he reflects.

“But I get it,” he continues, clearing his throat and nodding with his lips pulled in tight. “This – this is wrong of me. You’ve made it clear, time and again, that you don’t wanna see me. I have no right to force you.”

It hits you then that Taehyung has definitely assumed you have been dating for a while. As he should, because that is how you intentionally worded it. But now, you just want to tell him the truth. That it has been extremely difficult accepting the fact that you can’t be with him and have to move on. That it was very very difficult saying yes to Daniel. That you haven’t even wanted to actually go with him ever since Taehyung showed up, tonight.

You don’t get the chance to say anything out loud, though, because Taehyung gives you a small smile – it is full of so much pain and longing and despair, that it just pierces your heart and makes you choke on held back tears.

“You deserve this,” he simply tells you. “Someone taking you out on New Year’s eve… calling beforehand to check up on you simply because you told him you had an emergency come up… I bet he drives a Merc.”

Your cheeks pink at the thought of him having eavesdropped, but you bite your lip to contain your reaction, forcing yourself to chuckle at the last remark. “Please. He works in the same company as me. Literally drives a Toyota.”

Taehyung’s gaze fixates on a point in space. “So he has a corporate job, then. He’s… stable in life…”

You could not have predicted the searing pain that shakes your whole body upon hearing those words. Your wide, surprised eyes look at him, bewildered.

He gives you another slow, pained smile. “It’s what you always wanted. It's what you deserve.”

No, you vehemently reject in your head. What you deserved, at some point at least, was for Taehyung to clean up his act and try for you. Try for the both of you. Unable to contain the sudden helplessness and grief his words fill you with, you shake your head in response.

When he looks at you in confusion, you explain, “I deserved to have you listening to me, Tae. I deserved to have you taking us and our future seriously. I deserved to have you finally prioritizing me above your Bookmaking and – and betting and gambling. I deserved you picking our future over a life of uncertainty and petty crimes that could land you in jail anytime. I deserved…” Your breath stutters and you grit your teeth against the tears that flow down Taehyung’s face. “I deserved a real chance with the man I loved.”

“The man you loved,” Taehyung stresses the final consonant, eyes dark and now dry. Your usage of past tense is accidental, but seems to hit Taehyung in the wrong places. Sudden anger tightens his jaw. “Well. I'll have you know that the man you loved had cleaned up his act less than a week after moving out from this house.”

The words glide past you without making any sense. You gape at him. "What?"

“I quit. The day after you broke up with me, I cut myself out of everything,” he elaborates, sounding tired and weary for the first time ever since you’ve been having conversations with him since your break up. He's always been full of energy. Now he just sounds… defeated. “It was quick money but so much shady dealings and sneaking around… I had to get out. And after you left me… I took my anger out on that lifestyle and got out.”

“Taehyung… what the fuck are you saying?” Your voice sounds as hollow as your chest feels, your heart once again having landed in his hands.

He really quit a year ago? Why the heck didn’t he come to see you, then?

Your earlier thoughts return to you – if he says the word, gives one single indication that he wants you, you will forget the world and run to his arms. It's close to impossible to put logic over emotion when it comes to Taehyung. Breaking up with him was the strongest you'd been all your life.

All your life, you hadn't ever known the kind of love you so easily gave Taehyung. He can destroy you so easily, it's scary.

“I had some money stashed away for down payments and stuff for when we moved. Used them to pay off what I owed my Bookie. And quit,” Taehyung repeats his confirmation and your stomach twists. “Went back to the theater to get them to take me back, but… yeah, they didn’t let me in full-time because I’d lost their trust by dropping out unannounced. But they noted my name down pretty high up on the roll call for performances. I’ve done eight plays since, and got one more tomorrow. First night of the year at the Town Center. It's a full house.”

Your brain refuses to accept this new piece of information. You have to hold your forehead in a palm and massage your temples with your fingers to make sense of what Taaehyung is saying.

It feels like a sick joke.

He's dangling what you wanted in front of you, but he's holding it just out of your reach.

“You’re telling me… you quit everything a year ago?” At his nod, you sigh. “Tae. Why didn't you tell me? You got rid of the very reason we broke up and just didn’t tell me about it? Did you not…" Your voice breaks and eyes water. "Did you not miss me?”

Instead of looking guilty the way you’d expected him to, Taehyung looks more defeated. “I missed you more than I can ever put into words. I didn't tell you because you didn't need to know.” At your confused frown, he shakes his head and softly calls your name. “You deserve a beautiful life of abundance built up with hard earned money. You deserve happiness accumulated by creating a family. With people who can afford to love you. Not a struggling artist who doesn't know if he'd have to go without dinner tonight…" He quietly whispers your name, and your jaw trembles with the emotion it carries. "You are so much better off without me. I don't deserve you."

You thought your heart broke with his heartbreak, but you were apparently wrong because something hurts very bad in your chest. And it’s got to be your heart – or whatever’s left of it – because you can barely breathe over the unbearable pressure that suffocates your lungs.

“I’m sorry I made the decision for you, but…” Taehyung gives you a small shrug. “You wouldn't have agreed with me. And look, good things are happening again, aren’t they?"

You force yourself to give a nod, suddenly recalling the date you are supposed to get ready for. This is what you've wanted – moving on and ahead, eliminating Taehyung from your life.

“Good luck for your… date,” he says, and even though it seems like rolling his tongue around the word is a task for him, you find no anger in his gaze, only resignation and sadness. “I hope it’s good for you. The guy… he sounds like a caring guy,” Taehyung’s voice comes out gruff, very reluctant but still ringing with honesty.

He stands up, brushing both palms down the front of his sweatshirt to plop them into its pockets. His eyes run all over your face, a terse look on his own which he seems to be attempting to soften with a weird pull to his lips that you think he is trying to sell for a smile.

“I’m gonna take my leave… for good, this time,” he slowly declares, taking a step back from the couch, and as you feel your heart lurch to your throat. You have to physically tuck your feet in to stop yourself from rushing after him to stop him. “Kind of a downer staying to watch him pick you up in a Tessie or some shit.”

You meet his attempt at lightening the atmosphere with the ghost of a smile. “A Toyota, I promise.”

“Happy New Year,” he breathes, already at the door, watching you through watery eyes. “I hope this next one is so beautiful, it makes up for all that I put you through this year. And – and the year before…"

Your lips woodenly part into a smile you don’t mean, to express happiness you don’t feel. “You, too. I hope the coming year helps you be kinder to yourself and…” You pause to inhale. “And honest with the things you love.”

Taehyung seems to understand the meaning behind your words, given the subtle clenching of his fist, but says nothing as he moves out of the apartment.

You stare after him, rooted to your spot like a marble statue.

He really did the one thing you had wanted him to. And then – he never told you about it, didn’t make any attempts at a reconciliation because of his own messed up theories about you and himself. His words play in your head, weighing your heart down with sadness and despair.

You deserve a beautiful life of abundance built up with hard earned money. You deserve happiness accumulated by creating a family. With people who can afford to love you.

Afford to love you – as if you are an expensive commodity and not a flawed human being.

Despite all the anger, pain and disappointment you have been living with due to his ways, the picture of the future his words paint for you still features Taehyung by your side, holding your hand through it all.

You wonder how he can know you so well and yet be so clueless about you at the same time.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that you have the worst time with your date.

You spent the entire dinner thinking about your ex that you’re supposed to have finally severed things with and the few times you tried to engage in a conversation with Daniel, you almost slipped and called him ‘Tae.’

You feel like shit, drowning in heartache and two different kinds of guilt. Because Daniel definitely didn’t deserve this. And at the same time… maybe Taehyung also didn’t deserve the way you cut him out of your life, last Christmas. Maybe there’s a reason why he drew all the conclusions about being undeserving to be with you.

Did he think you valued stability over him and not with him?

Your feet are heavy and heart heavier when you get to your apartment – only to stumble to a startled stop when you come face to face with the man you desperately wish to stop thinking about.

He stands near your front door, the porch of your place housing a bundle of cardboard boxes that you can recognize even from a distance. You packed them. Is he taking his stuff away?

While you are still focused on him, a familiar elderly woman exits the house and steps up next to Taehyung, looking at him with a smile as she hands him some kind of paperwork. This is your landlady. And there is only one kind of paperwork she could be handing over to Taehyung.

Your legs move before you have even established it in your head that you will intervene in this situation, carrying you up to the duo within seconds.

“Taehyung,” you call out, wide eyes focused on the file in his hands. “What’s… what’s all this?”

His eyes double in size when they meet yours. And then they travel down your body, taking in the maroon dress beneath your coat, before coming back up and pausing at the vast amount of skin your dress' plunging neckline exposes.

You didn't end up wearing Daniel's gift, after all, feeling like a fraud.

Taehyung clears his throat, a distant look in his eyes when they meet yours. "Wha… You're… Why are you here?"

"I live here." You blink at him. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, he was just here to request a removal of his name from your lease," the landlady butts in with a saccharine smile. "I told him it is a complicated process. He has a copy of the deed which he can talk to his lawyer about. And, ah – hope you don't mind that I used the master key to get to your spare room." She casts an affectionate glance at Taehyung. "Tae was waiting so long to collect his things in the freezing temperatures, it started to worry me."

A cold sweat breaks out on the back of your neck, your grip loosening on your handbag. On yourself.

He is leaving.

He is finally leaving – removing himself from your life for good. Like you wanted him to.

You…wanted him to. Didn't you?

You were tired of his unannounced visits that messed with your head. He was never gonna be yours so you wanted him to not be around you at all. You wanted him gone.

You have wanted him gone for a year.

Haven’t you?

So then what is this bone-chilling fear that travels up and down your spine? Why are your hands shaking? Why is your throat dry, your eyes watering, shit, why do you feel like throwing up?

You don't know why your body reacts so viscerally to the news you have been awaiting. You don’t know the reason, but you recognise the signs.

This is exactly how you felt when you put your foot down about Taehyung's casual treatment of the two of you, last Christmas.

This is exactly how you felt when you broke up with him.

Fuck.

"Yeah." He bites down on his bottom lip, conflict and worry visibly swirling in his dark irises even in the dimness of the evening. "Was about to book a cab. Didn't… expect you to be back… so early."

Fists tightening and eyelids fluttering, you will yourself to hold on for just a little more time.

That is when your mind catches up with Taehyung's vague statements. You're back before midnight – way before midnight, it's barely even eleven – from your damn dinner. Taehyung probably expected you to celebrate the beginning of the next year with your date. Which you should've done, ideally. Tomorrow's a Sunday, anyway. Hell, maybe Taehyung expected you to go home with Dan instead of coming back here at all. Which, again, you should've done. Ideally.

But Taehyung doesn't know your date was far from ideal. You're a bad person for treating amazing and kind and sweet Dan like shit. You're an even worse person for wanting nothing more than to kiss your ex-boyfriend till you asphyxiate and then sob into his chest until you pass out.

Fuck.

You don't want him to leave.

Fuck fuck fuck, you will go insanely out of your fucking mind if he leaves.

He can't leave.

"You look pale… How was your date? Nothing – nothing went wrong, did it? Are—"

"Everything," you mumble, uncaring of the obvious concern that blooms across Taehyung’s face. "Everything went wrong, Tae… Everything went to hell, and you let it. You made it. Everything crashed and burned and you didn't even fucking care. And—"

And now you're leaving…for good.

You choke on a sob.

Taehyung steps towards you. "What? Hey, are you—"

"Why didn't you care, Taehyung?" Your voice breaks – as does your poise, knees buckling to make you stumble and nearly fall, tears trickling down your face. "Why didn't you love me enough to care?"

A pair of arms instantly surrounds you and a warm chest presses in your shoulder. "Shh, shh, breathe."

You peer up at him to find Taehyung’s face pinched in distraught agony, eyes clouded with doubt and fear. "Tae…"

"I'm here, I'm here."

"No… You're leaving…"

He pulls away to look at your tear-stricken face with a bewildered frown. "Yes, but I'm not gonna leave you like this."

"What if I'm like this forever? After you're gone?"

His lips part and eyes soften. "No, you won't be. You—"

"I love you, Tae."

His entire being freezes right there against you.

And for a moment, so does yours.

But then a calm acceptance unfurls in your chest, assuring you that you are finally being honest with yourself. With him. You're not noble enough to protect him by lying to him.

You break out of Taehyung's grasp, causing him to stumble a few feet away from you as if he was leaning into you for support and not the other way round. His gaze never strays from yours, though. And it never stops being haunted.

This haunting resounds in your very soul, reminding you of the emptiness you've carried around with yourself ever since you pushed the love of your life out of it. The pain in your heart reaches its pinnacle and a tremor wracks through you.

Arms shaking, you reach forth with both your palms to delicately cup his face and bring it closer to yours. "I'm in love with you, Taehyung. I haven't stopped being in love with you, not for a moment. And I cannot live without you in my life. I thought I could… I thought I needed you out of my life to get better, but… That was a lie. I needyou. All your monthly visits that I thought were a problem – they were all that was holding me together… I was surviving off of them, not in spite of them.” You gulp to clear your throat of tears, squeezing your fingers around Taehyung’s cheeks that are getting warmer just as his eyes are getting redder and shiner. “Tae, the thought of you going away for good breaks me. There’s this – there’s this crack that forms in my heart, in my soul, at the thought of not having you around anymore, and I feel like it will never heal. Like I will collapse and never recover."

Exhaling, you step closer and brush your nose against his, watching how his eyes fall shut with the action, allowing tears to escape. Your own eyelids lower to match his.

"Tell me what to do… Please."

His shaky exhale brushes warmly against your lips. Slowly, his arms come up to cradle your waist, locking your form against his chest. And then, in a barely there whisper, he says: "Kiss me?"

A tiny sob escapes you, the pain in your heart diluting and the pressure on your chest alleviating. You wouldn't have known what to do with yourself if he pushed you away.

But he didn't. He asked you to kiss him – the way you have been wanting to for hours, now.

So without another word, you close the gap between your lips and his.

A shuddered breath leaves you at the first contact, loaded with relief as well as desire. Taehyung responds immediately, deepening the kiss, allowing his fingers to greedily dig into your waist and his throat to release a pleased hum. Shivers dance through your body at the familiar sound. And then he runs his tongue to part your lips, and the shivers transform into spasming shudders, prompting you to wind your arms around his neck and shoulders to hold yourself steady.

Your body slowly familiarizes itself with his motions again, reconnecting with the woodsy but mild cologne he wears that is only perceptible when you're pressed up so close to him. One of your hands finds the curls on the base of his neck, and your nails card through them the way you know he loves. His appreciative grunt is delivered with a bite to your bottom lip, and with your own whimper of need, you open your mouth against his.

The kiss moves from a teary mess of emotions to something more passionate – something driven by the hunger you two feel for each other.

Lightheadedness starts to crawl over you because Taehyung's intense kisses leave no room for you to catch a single breath, and his own lung capacity bypasses yours. But now that you have his mouth slotted against yours after so long, you would rather pass out in his embrace than be the first one to pull away.

When Taehyung finally runs out of oxygen, he separates from you with a wet gasp. Your body scrambles to regulate your breathing, but you find yourself suspended in delirium, so out of it that you nearly sway in his arms.

But Taehyung's hold on you is firm and secure, the large span of one of his hands pressing between your shoulder blades to support you. His forehead tips against yours and labored breath mingles with your own.

"I love you, too," he manages to whisper between the audible gulps of air he's taking in. “Never stopped.”

Neither did you.

You open your mouth to tell him just that, when a gust of freezing wind blows through your street, rolling over the exposed skin of your calves beneath your dress, and your teeth chatter in a gasping exhale.

Taehyung's eyebrows squeeze together. "Fuck, it's freezing out here and you're in a dress. Let's get you inside," he says with a quick glance towards your legs, and you don't miss the flare that sparks through his eyes.

Getting inside your house together is going to entail more than just escaping the cold winds.

He quickly bends to pick up the file he must have dropped earlier, and then looks at you with a small smile as you step closer to him. Folding your form into his side, he walks up the stairs of your porch, passing by the pile of his boxes, and knocks at your landlady's door. The woman opens up so quickly, you wonder if she's been standing right there all this time, trying to eavesdrop on you and Taehyung. You wouldn’t put it past her, to be honest.

“Oh!” She acts surprised. “Are you both going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Back in.” Taehyung grins at you and hands the file of the lease papers to her. "For good."

Tilting her head to the side, she presses a hand to her chest and coos. "Oh my God. I can't express how happy this makes me. I wish you two nothing but happiness!" But she's just looking at Taehyung. Ugh.

"Yeah, thanks – hey, can we talk some time later?" you interrupt in a rush. "Kinda freezing here."

With wide eyes, she gestures the two of you away.

Taehyung is chuckling when he unlocks the door to your house. "I can't tell if she is just that dramatic or if she has a crush on me. I mean, she's probably my aunt's age if not my mom's. It's a little embarrassing, but it's also cute."

What's cute is the way he can't stop rambling.

Taehyung has always had a very distinctively overpowering persona when it comes to sex. He has never fooled around when it came to this part of your relationship, making up for the sincerity he lacked elsewhere in bed. Which is why you know it’s only a matter of time before that switch is flipped and he starts to elude that intensity which renders your brain useless.

So you take advantage of his present distraction. You know he doesn’t realize what you are planning, which gives you the perfect opportunity to wait for him in the foyer while he locks the door – and pounce upon him immediately as he turns to face you.

Your lips connect with his surprised ones in a clumsy clash, making his body fall back against the shut door from the force. The surprised laugh that escapes his mouth in a huff is swallowed by your tongue licking up his bottom lip. One of his arms wraps tight against your waist and the other palm cradles your jaw. Heat surrounds you with his possessive touch.

Your tongue slides past the edge of his mouth to curl around his teeth, until he opens his mouth wider and wraps his own around yours. His throaty groan that accompanies the action travels down to your center, stoking the fire that is building up between your legs.

In the months you have spent away from him, you have had just your fingers and the memories of your time together to support you through your self-imposed celibacy. And this abstaining has built up into an infernal need now – a need for him. Having his mouth on you isn’t enough. You need him all over you, fused together with you, you need him in you.

“Tae,” comes your breathless call.

Humming, he pulls away from the kiss to drag his lips down your face, pressing hot kisses down your chin, and settling against your pulsepoint, sucking a bruise into your tender flesh and stealing all the air from your lungs. “Yes, baby?”

Fuck, his voice keeps getting deeper with every passing moment. Desperate for more contact, your hands tug his sweatshirt up, one fist bunching in the fabric over his back, and the other reaching for the warm skin beneath. While his lips descend to your collar bones, fervently pressing kisses to the exposed flesh of your chest, pushing your coat off your shoulders, the nails of both your hands rake up his back, tugging at the article of clothing in their wake.

Taehyung takes that moment to gain the upper hand – ending your fun with him barely five minutes into it. Separating himself from the door to walk you backwards into your apartment, he begins to easily maneuver the two of you towards your bedroom. You manage to work his sweatshirt off his abdomen, causing him to lift his head to allow you to swipe it off him completely. While he runs a hand through his hair to tame them, you take his taut, solidly built body in, and sag against the wall behind you with a dreamy sigh.

His chest is heaving with breathless pants, pecs hard and dewy with sweat. You scan down the rest of his firm torso, down to the waistband of his jeans, and then your gaze settles upon the sizable bulge in them. It’s not like you ever forgot how freaking massive Taehyung is, but the visual evidence still makes your tongue feel heavy in your dry mouth.

You wonder if you’d be able to convince him to let you taste him.

He is on you, the next second, lips re-attaching themselves to the top curves your breasts. God, his body feels warmer without the barrier of his clothes, heating you up with the contact just as much as he is by his ministrations. While you are thinking of getting rid of your dress, Taehyung seems to get the same idea. Running down your thighs over the garment and then climbing back up under it, his large hands mold over the globes of your ass, digging into your flesh.

“Fuck, Tae,” you breathe into his hair, both hands marking up his shoulders with the death grip you have on them

He responds by obscenely pulling your ass cheeks apart and then pressing them together. Whimpering with want, you desperately lift one of your legs up to his waist. He invites it by hooking one of his hands beneath your knee to properly wrap your limb around him, before pushing you harder against the wall, he takes the liberty to pick up and lock your other leg in place around him as well.

The damp cloth of your panties rubs down the zipper of his jeans, and both of you gasp at the contact, eyes meeting in wordless wonder.

You wordlessly raise your arms up to express what you want, meeting his heated stare with your bottom lip pulled into your mouth when he looks at you from beneath his brows.

Cursing under his breath, Taehyung quickly tugs your dress off of you, attaching his lips to the soft flesh of your ribs beneath your right immediately. The heat of his mouth as he works his way down to your belly button and licks his way down to the edge of your panties has you soaking through them.

“Tae, please,” you gasp, “bed.”

He obliges immediately, rising up to hold you to him as he carries you into your bedroom. His eyes are dark and dangerous when he catches your stare, and up close, it becomes really hard for you to maintain eye contact with him.

But as soon as you lower your lashes, one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw, his motions not bruising, but definitely not soft either. His jaw is clenched and nostrils flared when you look at him again. With a gulp, you feel your arousal drip down your thigh.

“Do not take your eyes off of me,” he grunts against your mouth, planting a tight kiss on it. “Understood?”

“Yes,” your agreement comes hoarse and a glint of satisfaction sparkles in his eyes at the sound.

The lethal dominance Taehyung exudes right now completely removes him from the guy you kissed against your door, minutes ago. He gets off to the power he holds over you, evident with the way his eyes always shine when he has you needy and whiny for him. And that just makes you needier and whinier.

Walking up to your bed, he sits on the edge and arranges you in his lap with an arm wrapped around your waist, giving you barely any time to settle before his free hand flicks your bra open. Tugging it down your arms, he forgoes fully removing it in favor of pressing his thumb against one of your nipples and swirling it around. A gasp rips through you, making your body arch into him and eyes roll into the back of your head.

You expect a reprimand for looking away from him, but he instead uses that moment to lower his head and replace his thumb, engulfing the taut peak of your breast into the fiery cavern of his mouth.

“Feels so fucking good…”

While his tongue plays around with your nub, making a mess on you the way he loves to, his hands don’t sit idle either, busying themselves in ridding you of your panties. You brace your knees on the mattress outside of his thighs and rise up to aid him. But his impatience gets the better of him and he leaves the scarp of clothing hanging on your ankle to quickly bring his hands back to your bare body, touching, squeezing and kneading his way around your ass, your back and your shoulders, and finally looping his arms around you to focus on your boobs again. He switches sides, suckling and nibbling on the neglected peak.

Pleasure starts to coil up tightly in you, making you all the more aware of the emptiness in your pussy. Looking for some sort of relief, you readjust yourself on his lap, sliding sideways to straddle one of his legs.

"Oh, fuck—" You cut yourself off with a breath hissed in through your teeth.

Your new position has made your heated, needy center press up strongly against Taehyung's buffed thigh, and the pressure has flares of arousal shooting through your veins, circling through your entire body. Your knee brushes his crotch, and the stiffness it encounters makes all semblance of self-control slip right through your grasp.

"Taehyung," you breathe, clawing at his shoulders with both hands, and he just hums against your chest, around a mouthful of your boob. "I need you…"

He hums again, never letting your flesh out of his mouth. "You have me."

Fuck, is he trying to be witty right now? You release a desperate whine, dreading the thought of having to convince him to touch you how and where you need him to because Taehyung plays a long game when it comes to edging you. Your wound up body cannot deal with that right now – you fear you'll say the wrong thing in your state and he will just use that to prolong your pleasure all the more.

His hands go back to your ass and the feel of those sinfully long fingers on you makes you wish they were in you, and—

Shit.

The bruising grasp he has on your butt makes your body slide against him, and fuck, the way his thigh muscles flex against your bare pussy has you seeing stars for a moment.

You want more of it.

Tentatively but eagerly, you grind down against the coarse fabric of his jeans harder, immediately throwing your head back in groan when a feverish wave of arousal runs through you at the motion.

Fuck, this is so lewd and you are so gonna leave a wet mess on his clothes, but you can’t stop yourself from moving again. And again. Grinding down, rolling your body towards Taehyung, and allowing the side of your knee to brush against the bulge that you would have begged for, had you not gotten so impatient.

Within the next few moments, Taehyung lifts his head off of your chest and meets your dazed gaze with his dark one. His eyes scan the length of your torso to connect to his thigh. You roughly swallow at his perusal, already getting closer to the edge because of its increasing darkness. And then he releases a shuddering breath, the slight surprise on his face being taken over by fascination.

“Are you fucking yourself on my leg, baby?”

His bluntly dirty question comes in a voice so guttural and low, the vibrations make your body temperature turn a few degrees up, pushing another groan out of you. One more filthy word out of his mouth, and you will explode.

You nod in response, attempting to pull yourself together enough to open your eyes wider to take him in better. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and his pupils have expanded dangerously. A bead of sweat travels down the side of his neck, collecting over the hollow of his collarbone. The fact that he is so turned on that he is sweating in this freezing December weather drives you insane. Unable to resist him, you press your lips against his throat, opening your mouth to let the salty taste of skin unravel against your tastebuds.

His grip on your waist tightens to a squeeze, until he lets go and leans back, supporting his weight on his palms that he plants on the mattress behind him. Your hips continue their roll on his thigh and your mouth works its way down his torso, tongue swiping at his nipple and eliciting a muted curse from him. Looking up, you’re treated to the breathtaking sight of his flushed face with his eyes closed and lips parted. His chest pulses with every gush of breath he takes, urging you to move on his thigh in a rhythm to match.

Bleary eyes open to connect with yours down his nose from beneath a curtain of dark hair, just as his upper lip curls away to bare his teeth in a fatally sexy grin.

“You look so fucking gorgeous, you know?”

You do?

You don't have any words to describe to him how delicious he looks in this moment – not that you'd be able to articulate them if you even had them – so you just let his thick and breathy voice wrap around you. When your motions falter, you bring both hands up to mold over his muscly shoulders for support. But your thighs are starting to feel the burn of exhaustion zipping through them.

And the grinding alone isn't enough anymore. Your pussy is still empty, trying to clench around nothing.

"T–Tae…" you whimper as a last resort, hoping he's turned on enough by the sight of your deranged self to comply without teasing you. "I need more…"

"Oh, yeah?" comes his breathy lilt and you nearly sob in frustration because nope, no chance – he's gonna tease you to death. "My thigh's not enough for my horny little baby?

You shake your head, slowing down as your leg muscles fully give up.

"What do you need, baby?"

His dark eyes are sincere despite the humor in his tone, and the small smile he sports has more adoration than hunger. So you take your chances.

"Your fingers," you boldly express, biting down your lip as you quietly add, "and your mouth."

You feel the jerk his length gives at your words, but Taehyung doesn't say a word about it, lazily smiling at you as he sits up to grope at your body. An eyebrow rises up.

"And not my cock?"

Your eyes dip down to his crotch again, and he chuckles.

"Although I'm not going to give it to you yet," he adds, confirming his plans that you already had an inkling of, “but wouldn’t you even ask?”

Pouting at him, you grind your hips down against his leg again, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Fuck, he is so broad. This is why his shirt sleeves become sweater paws for you.

"Why won’t you give it to me yet?" you coyly murmur, trying to capture his lips in a kiss but failing when he tips his head away.

"Because you seem to have forgotten your manners," he informs you with a tiny, mocking smirk. "Not listening when I tell you to keep your eyes on me, grinding yourself on my leg like a slut without my permission, and demanding my fingers and my mouth without a single polite word."

His eyes slowly solidify into unforgiving pools of disappointment and you shiver. “P–p–please. Please give me your mouth, Tae,” you quickly amend, causing amusement to twitch his eyebrows into arches.

“Now wasn’t that so much better?”

With a nipple pinched between his fingers and your earlobe between his teeth, he fluidly flips the two of you over, so that you're laying on the bed with your feet planted on the ground, and he is hovering above you. Pressing kisses down your sternum, he descends your body to kneel between your parted legs You follow his dark eyes, barely breathing, and then rise up on your elbows when his hot breath brushes against your extremely sensitive center.

"Look at this poor pussy,” he coos, nudging at the wet mess of your lips with his nose. “All messy and tired… Do you need to come, baby?”

You nod like a bobblehead doll, wide eyes not daring to leave his now.

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t play around at all, and dives in with his tongue immediately. Your moan of his name makes your body wring out tightly, hands fisting in the sheets next to you, and hips almost lifting off the bed.

Taehyung growls against your sensitive flesh, opening his eyes to glare at you. “Are you trying to test me?”

Your shiver at his hissed question, but quickly shake your head. “It just… it’s been a while.”

His face drops for a quick moment, before a vicious look enters his eyes again. “Not like anyone could ever eat you out like I do.”

Not like you even let anyone do that, but not to get too sappy. “N–no one, Tae! Only you do!”

He gets back to work, pressing his mouth against you and letting his tongue lash into your channel, before he moves his mouth higher up and takes your hypersensitive clit between his lips. You have barely had a moment to absorb the shock of pleasure that rips through you at that, when you feel two of his fingers running up and down your entrance – coating in your wetness, before they slip into you. And they go deep, driving right up against the sensitive spot in you that they know the route to better than your own fingers, pressing down and rubbing at it in circles.

It’s all downhill from there – your body thrashing around the bed, hands fisting his hair and eyes screwing shut as you reach your peak in record time. White noise muffles your ears and fire explodes in you. All thoughts leave your brain blank for what feels like whole minutes.

Your orgasm lasts almost longer than the time it took for you to get there.

When you come back down from your embarrassingly quick but blindingly amazing high, your eyes open to the sight of Taehyung’s fingers, coated with your juices, sliding past his swollen lips. You thickly swallow. Admiring the way he tongue comes out to lick over a manicured nail, a tiny moan escapes you.

His eyes connect with yours, the heat in them giving way to amusement. “Want a taste?”

Mesmerized, you nod, mouth watering at the sight of his endlessly long, elegant fingers. God, is it weird of you to want to swallow someone’s fingers? Because as soon as Taehyung straddles you, you grab his palm with both hands and push his index, middle and ring fingers into your gaping mouth. And as soon as the taste of your release mixed in with the taste of his spit meets your tongue, you make a seal around them, and suck.

A sharp breath is drawn in by Taehyung at your action, his eyes now pitch black as they look down at you.

Your tongue plays around with the edges of his nails, before you suck more of his digits in to push them towards your throat, essentially swallowing them.

“Fuck, fuck, are you kidding me,” Taehyung moans out, making more of a statement than a question, followed by your name. “Love my fingers that much?”

You obediently nod your head, looking at him with wide eyes, and his own turn heavy. His hips are in your direct line of sight, which makes it easy for you to actually see the way your response causes the tent in his jeans to become bigger.

When he pulls his pruned fingers out of your mouth, your eager hands make a grab for his waistband to quickly unbutton and unzip him. He surprises you for the second time tonight by letting you get away with it. You tug the denim past his ass and wrangle his tight shorts off similarly, hissing in delight when his fully hard cock springs free to smack against his tight abdomen.

The head is angry and coated with precum, so fucking irresistible, it beckons you towards it. But this time you do not forget your manners, looking up into Taehyung’s eyes through your lashes.

His stare is already on you, though, and it is heavier than it has been all night.

“Stick your tongue out,” he murmurs in a voice that has gone down another few octaves.

And you do, properly sitting on your haunches as he kneels on the bed before you.

“You can suck it for one minute and one minute only. I don’t want to come before I’ve felt your pussy.”

Fuck, why does that bring heat to your cheeks?

“Okay,” you whisper, reaching ahead with a hand to wrap around his thick length and placing the fat head on your extended tongue.

He grunts when you wrap your tongue around him. Knowing you don’t have much time, you let the spit accumulated in your mouth to act as lubricant over his cock, and open your mouth wide to take him in. He hits your throat when half of his length hasn’t even made it into your mouth, and you relax yourself to let him slide in.

But Taehyung brings his hand down to clutch at your hair, shaking his head when your eyes meet his in surprise. “J–just your tongue.”

FUck, did he stutter? You’re so fucking proud of yourself.

With renewed vigor, you draw slightly back and hollow your cheeks around his tip, rolling your tongue over it like a lollipop, you firmly suckle it. Spit mixed with his precum dribbles down the side of your jaw, which causes Taehyung to bite down on his lip.

Before you can really get into it, though, he pulls himself out of your mouth and grabs you by the shoulders, breathing hard above you. “Enough. Wanna fuck your pussy, now…”

Using the leverage on your shoulders, he pushes you back on the bed and throws a leg across your torso to straddle you. His other hand cards his hair away from his face. Some strands have gotten stuck to his forehead, which he scrapes away with the back of his nails, and you are struck by the elegant beauty of his finger once more.

It is not weird to want to swallow someone’s fingers, okay? Not when that someone is Kim Taehyung.

Out of nowhere, you notice how the rings he wears are thin, silver bands instead of the huge chunky rocks he used to. The hand on your shoulder is devoid of them too, with similar bands looping through his index and ring fingers. It could very easily be a style choice, but something tells you it is a choice brought on by the change in his lifestyle.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you reprimand yourself for never catching any signs. So much wasted time because you really thought he wouldn’t change and he was being a dumbass with all that poetic don’t deserve you shit.

“Where’s your head at?” He smirks at you, having gotten rid of his disheveled clothes properly, and situates himself between your legs again. “Don’t go all pillow princess on me, now—”

“Choke me.”

His eyes boggle out at your sudden words. “Wha…?”

“I was thinking of your fingers.” It isn’t a lie, only a partial truth. “How fucking gorgeous they are. And how fucking badly I want them on me. I want them to bruise me, Tae… Please?”

His cock smacks against your thigh and he hisses a deep breath in through his teeth, letting his tongue rest against his upper lip as he regards you. “You sure?”

Elated, you eagerly nod. “Absolutely.”

“Do we, uh, need a safe word?”

“No, we don’t,” you confidently reassure him with a smile.

“And can I do it bareback?”

“Ye—uh, what?” You gape at him.

His smirk turns into a sheepish smile, body leaning down to cage you between a hand that is planted next to your head, and the other one which is playing with your boobs and slowly climbing its way up towards your neck.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” he says it simply, easily, as if he is telling you what he had for dinner.

But you notice how he doesn’t meet your gaze and you also notice how the veins in his neck look a little too strained.

Sighing fondly, you bring your hands up to brush through his hair. “Neither have I.”

His stance relaxes and rounded eyes run to meet yours. “Are you still—”

“On the pill? Yes.” At his confused look, you roll your eyes. “It helps with my period, okay? Now will you get on wi—ack!”

The hand roaming your throat suddenly tightens over it, thumb digging into your pulsepoint while his fingers curl around your windpipe to restrict your breathing. Through wide eyes you see him wet his lips and lean over yours. The flat of his tongue sweeps across your mouth.

“Not a word from you unless it is about how good I’m making you feel,” he whispers and you leak an ocean of arousal, shivers running up and down your spine at the low-pitched threat. “Understood?”

You quickly nod, swallowing against his fingers. With another lick of your trembling lips, Taehyung straightens to sit up and use his free hand to smear your arousal around your slit.

“You have made a mess, baby…”

You can hear the mess he is talking about, his fingers squelching away as they separate your pussy lips and toy with your clit. Just when you feel tears gathering in your eyes at the overwhelming sensations that are still not enough, Taehyung decides to finally line the head of his cock up against your entrance.

The initial push feels harsh, not particularly stinging, but definitely feeling foreign after the long abstinence you’ve had. But as he gradually eases himself in, your pussy seems to recall the feeling of pleasure associated with the thickness of Taehyung’s massive cock. He can never make it into you in a single slide, always having to make repetitive pumps to fit all of him in.

“Tiny fucking pussy,” he rasps through clenched teeth, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, gaze zeroed in at the place you are joined. “So greedy but can’t even take me properly…”

Indignant, you want to tell him there is no one but you that can take him ‘properly.’ No one but you who tirelessly braves through his tendency to overstimulate you because he’s a fucking stallion who takes forever to come and has to have you clenching around him to trigger an orgasm.

But you keep your mouth shut, writhing a little as you make tiny noises of pleasure, because he literally has your vocal chords in his hand.

Hips moving away, he pistons back in, pushing further inside you. This is when he finally looks up at you. But this time you have been looking at just his sexily scrunched up face, nearly unblinking, so a proud grin splits his lips.

“Almost there, baby,” he reassures you unnecessarily, because you are having a fucking blast either way.

He pulls out and plows back in again, reaching deeper – and deeper – and deeper, until you feel the base of his pelvis meet your clit. Your jaw drops in surprised pleasure when he grinds against you, and your hips chase after him when he pulls back. Chuckling, Taehyung leans over you, removing the hand from your throat to bring it up to your face and cup your cheek.

“You okay?”

No, not really. You need him to move. But you know he’s asking about your throat, so you bite your lip and give him a small nod. “Never better.”

At first he smiles, but then something dark enters his gaze. “Never better?”

Shit, why does he have to spin every word out of your mouth into something to tease you with? His hips pull back and snap against yours to make a point, an eyebrow rising up.

"You better now?"

Whining, half in embarrassment and half because his length reaches insane depths in you, you shake your head. "N–not yet—"

He repeats the motion, this time harder and faster. "Now?"

You are pushed up the bed by the force of his thrusts, but still collect enough willpower to shake your head, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. "M–more…"

This time, Taehyung hooks an arm beneath one of your knees, pulling your legs apart wide, and situates your calf on his shoulder, next to his face. Turning, he presses a soft kiss to your ankle, and then grits his teeth to continue with the pounding that is rapidly gaining momentum.

He doesn't say a word, after that, just stares at you through quiet and calculative eyes and you know he means business. God, the way his head brushes against the bundle of nerves in you with every powerful thrust is bringing you closer to your release. You wanna shut your eyes and rub at your clit. He has barely started, but you have been so wound up, you just want to come.

But as soon as a single hand of yours leaves his shoulders to travel to your body, Taehyung takes the hand he has around your boob, to smack the back of yours with. You gape at him in surprise, which turns into a moan of his name when he presses deep into you and gyrates his hips.

"Don't even think of touching yourself," he hisses at you, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. His hair hangs above them, but they manage to do nothing to cut the intensity of his stare. "You've had enough time to do that in a year. Now it's my turn to touch you…"

And fuck, that is so fucking hot of him, your mouth drools and some spit leaks down the side of it. He rubs it off with a thumb and then leans down to kiss you. Your leg stretched to its maximum elasticity, but Taehyung sucking on your tongue gets your mind off of it.

This time when he separates from your body, your fingers subconsciously reach for the tips of your breasts, tweaking at your nipples.

Taehyung's eyes flash with fury. "Are you doing this on purpose? If you needed me to tie you up so bad, you should've just asked.”

The words float over you, not really getting to you through the haze of pleasure that every single of his sharp thrusts into your pussy has you suspended in. Until, that is, Taehyung is gripping both your wrists and holding them with a single hand, above your head. A lacy but soft touch meets your wrists while you're still gaping at Taehyung's sharp jaw with a confused face.

And then it registers – he is tying your fucking hands…with your fucking bra.

Gasping, mostly out of shock but also out of the bout of arousal that his action sends through you, you begin to protest, "Tae, I wasn't—'

"Shh," comes his crisp admonition, accompanied by a glare through his eyebrows that makes you shake in place. "You will keep your mouth shut if you don't want it full of your wet panties."

You're not as opposed to the idea as you would've thought, but you do not dare to challenge Taehyung into doing it. Because he won't end it there – he will deny your release as punishment, too, and that is something you are absolutely in no shape to bear right now.

So you pull your lips in and allow him to send your body jostling up the bed in time with his strokes. One of his hands comes up to squeeze at your boobs, while the other reaches down, thumb pressing into your clit, rubbing tight circles over it.

“This want you wanted?” His tone is light, contradicting the darkness in his eyes. At your shaky nod, his hand climbs up your chest to grip at your jaw, thumb dipping into your mouth, which you waste no time in sucking on. Hissing, he narrows his eyes. “So fucking needy… You’d take anything I gave you, won’t you?”

With his thumb pressing down on your tongue and hips pinning you to the bed, you’re as much at his mercy as you can be. There is no point trying to put up a fight. So you admit in a barely coherent mutter of, “Everything.”

His eyes flash with heat, and he charges into you at a renewed pace, going harder and faster. You momentarily wonder why he hasn't attempted to flip you on your stomach when that is his most favorite position to have you in, but all thoughts are soon wiped off your brain when Taehyung’s digits on your clit get rougher, harsher, until you can feel yourself beginning to tighten around him. The crash comes unexpectedly, catching you so unawares your mouth drops open in a silent scream, eyes widening and then rolling back.

Waves after waves of pleasure hit you, running through your veins like molten fire. You can feel Taehyung fuck you through it, groaning into your neck as he peppers kisses over your sweaty skin.

By the time you open your eyes, he is close to his own completion, body tensing and stuttering above you.

“Whe…where do you want me,” he moans into your neck, “to come?”

It takes you less than two seconds to decide: “Inside.”

Taehyung’s surprised eyes find you as he immediately lifts his head to rest his chin on your collarbones. “Are you su—”

“Please,” you breathe, locking your tired legs around his waist. “Wanna feel you fill me up, Tae, please…”

A different shade colors his face at your words, motions getting stronger but also sloppier. “Yeah? You w–want my cum, baby?”

His jaw is clenched and broad body looms over you, his dominance never weakening despite the way his words are beginning to stutter and slur. Your pussy feels worn out, battered, slightly overstimulated – but when Taehyung’s breath starts to break into gasps, you feel a fire ignite in you again.

Nodding, you push your breasts against his chest and meet his heavy lidded gaze with your wide-eyed one. “I’ve missed it s–so much,” you hoarsely tell him, biting down on your lip. “Love the way you make a mess in me… And when it dr–drips out—”

“Fu~ck,” Taehyung groans low in his throat, forehead resting against your chest and teeth biting down into the soft flesh. His hips stray from yours, jerking back twice before finally fusing together with yours, just as warm spurts of his cum shoot up in you.

The sensation is foreign but so fucking familiar at the same time, you lose your breath, matching Taehyung’s heaving breathing, both your fists clenched in their restraint and eyes screwed shut to absorb the sensations bursting across your body.

It takes him a while to pull out of you, and you almost want him to stay in longer, whining when he sits up between your legs with a dazed grin. “You’re really fucking unbelievable, you know?”

Again – you are?

Your legs are jelly, your brain has turned to marshmallow goo, and your throat is too raw for speech stronger than a raspy whisper. You don’t even wanna think of the state of your pussy; everything’s kinda numb down there, and you wonder if the overstimulation has actually muted your nerve endings to—

“Ah, shit!”

Nope, you definitely still have all your nerve endings very much alert and sensitive – so sensitive, they make you flinch with your whole body when Taehyung’s tongue travels through your nether lips.

“Wh–what are you doing, Tae—fuck!”

“You looked so fucking good,” he murmurs into your pussy, and you feel like you will fall off the bed with how much you are twisting and arching up – to get closer or away from him, you’re not sure. But then his teeth grazes your thoroughly sensitized clit and now you’re definitely pulling away. “Tiny fucking hole,” he continues, seemingly lost in his head, “leaking so much cum…”

Oh, God. It is now that you realize Taehyung is eating what is the mixture of his cum with yours. And having the time of his life doing it, if the moans he pours into you are any indication.

His comfort with tasting his cum isn’t new to you, but the reminder still zings your body with a thrill – and to your utter shock and slight dread, you feel your stomach bunching up with a fresh wave of desire. Taehyung seems to catch the subtle way your hips undulate towards him, and with a groan, presses his tongue farther in you, curling it up as if to collect all the liquid he can.

It doesn’t take much after that. The depraved imagery of Taehyung enjoying the taste of his own release does half the job, and his skilled tongue that doesn’t sit still for a second is more than enough to bring you to another earth-shattering orgasm, one that is so strong, it’s borderline painful.

“Fuck, baby, the way you clench on my tongue…”

Your foggy eyes look at Taehyung’s wet and shiny lips that are spread in a delighted smile. He cups your face with a palm and pulls you into a soft kiss when you sniffle, untying your hands with the other. He tastes like you and him combined, and the only reason your moan comes out breathy is because your vocal chords have given up on you.

“Maybe I should’ve paced this,” he softly brushes against your lips, pulling away to peck your cheeks and wipe your eyes, “and not raw-dogged you in one night.”

Laughter blubbers at your lips, turning into a fond smile when Taehyung situates himself next to you and brings your face to rest against his unfairly thick bicep. “I wouldn’t have let you,” you whisper in your embarrassingly papery voice. “Missed you too much.”

“I’ll draw you a warm bath later.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, and then looks at you with hesitant eyes. “You really, uh… didn’t have sex in a whole year?”

The almost nervous look on his face reminds you of what he said to you this evening, about you being the only one for him – about his heart being yours ever since your first accidental date. You release a breath and confess, “I haven’t even dated, Tae. The – the one tonight was the first one I was trying…”

Awe bleeds to understanding, and eventually to offense on his face. “You made it sound like you’d been dating for a while! You asked me if I wasn’t dating, as if it should be obvious!”

You shut your eyes with a wince. “I felt like a fool. Felt like I was contradicting myself by telling you I didn’t need you and then also admitting how lonely I’d been since you.”

His gaze is sincere when he looks at you again. “And now? How do you feel now?"

"In love," you honestly confess, feeling your cheeks heat up when adoration overtakes his face. "Happy. And you?"

"Hopeful," he immediately says, like he doesn't even have to think about it. "Determined to make this work, dead set on making you happy." He brushes a thumb against your cheek. "Eager to build a future with you."

Your chest fills up with too many emotions at once, making it hard for you to breathe. He wants to make an effort. He really wants to do it the right way.

Although you had concluded his intentions by the conversation you had in the evening, it is unbelievably gratifying to hear him put it in words. By declaring that you were better off without him, he had basically proved to you that he truly understood how you saw your future and the fact that he did not fall on the same page as you, a year ago. And so now, hearing him tell you he wants to make it work, you know that he is finally on the same page as you about the two of you.

You have never been a fan of fairytales or a believer of magic. You never considered fate to be a thing until you met Taehyung due to a twist of it, and then in your separation with him, you found yourself going back to your earlier beliefs about its non-existence.

Nothing happens because it's meant to be. Nothing happens unless you make it happen.

Tears collected on your waterline, you purse your lips to stifle a sob. "Building a future with you is what will make me happy, Tae."

He gives you a soft smile. "I love you."

"And I love you." Grin matching his own giddy one, you close the distance between your mouths.

“First date at the Town Center after my performance?” he murmurs between kisses, and you nod.

“Yes, please!”

Just then, loud fireworks shoot off somewhere in the distance.

You both separate with matching surprised looks on your faces. Taehyung’s eyes travel past your shoulder to your nightstand, and his lips part with a small smile. “It’s midnight.”

“Happy new year, Tae-bear,” you murmur, teary-eyed.

“Happy new year, my love.”

He looks at you with a light brighter than all the world’s fireworks sparkling in his eyes. You lose yourself in them .

And this time – it’s forever.

— note #2: sooo the v first time i’m actually posting a birthday fic on the correct date! yay! =D wish you the happiest birthday ever, tae-bear 🥺 your giggles have gotten me through the worst of days, i love you so much <3

links to be updated later!

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jiminsfault · 1 year

Text

His Muse | kth

— pairing: Artist!Kim Taehyung x reader

— genre: fluff, romance | Non-idol!Au

— word count: 4.4k

— summary: Insomnia was keeping you up at night, so you decided to go out for a nightly walk in the streets of Paris, where you met Kim Taehyung, who is in desperate need of someone to inflame his passions again.

— warnings: Obviously mentioning insomnia but just surface-level, it’s extremely unrealistic in some aspects but let’s be romantic about it, depending on which way you look at it Taehyung could also come off as a creep tbh…lmao, essentially coworkers to lovers

— A/N: I started writing this in 2018… kept on writing bits and then dismissing it for months. Now, finally, it’s here. Been on my masterlist as “coming soon” for years, but I did it!

masterlist

»Why do you have to work like this?« you question your brain that is once again keeping you up at night. »This damn insomnia is going to be the death of me« you grumble, exhausted from your busy day and now suffering even more from the sleepless night ahead of you. Once you realized that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep, you decided to get up from bed and leave the hotel room to go on a nightly walk. Now you circle the block of your hotel for probably the third time. Maybe getting some energy out of your system will help make you sleepy.

As you continue your walk, you reminisce about all the things you went through to regain a healthy sleep schedule. You started with yoga on a regular day in the week, which quickly turned out to be too much effort in your packed schedule, since you already had to work two jobs.

You also tried therapy, which helped a lot, but eventually the costs piled up too much. Medicine was your last resort and got you to the point of actually sleeping through most nights, but of course you had to run out the week of your well earned holiday.

Working two jobs was exhausting and you rarely had the opportunity to take multiple consecutive days off. So, you were planning on enjoying these days as much as possible — the lack of sleep, once again, disrupting that plan.

This is just your first night in Paris, the city of lights, love, and art. You had a tightly scheduled day right after your arrival at the airport, wanting to spend every day in its own way.

So today you went sightseeing, visiting the most common things, like the Eiffel Tower. Tomorrow you planned on visiting one or two museums that a friend had recommended.

For the third day you didn’t really plan anything, expecting yourself to be far too lazy after two days of walking to do anything, so perhaps you’ll just lay down in bed and read a book.

Had you known that you wouldn’t be able to sleep you would have of course brought more books with you on this trip.

The fourth day is actually a little secret of yours, you didn’t tell anybody about your plans — the risk of coworkers snitching on you was just too high. All of them were lovely indeed, but they do love to spread the newest gossip.

The truth was, you were not only on this holiday to relax and visit a beautiful city, but also for a job interview. A well paying job in this beautiful city was a dream come true.

You didn’t care to plan more than the fourth day, if the interview goes well you will truly just be savoring the last three days in this city before leaving and soon returning permanently. If the interview didn't go the way you wanted it to, you decided to just get an earlier flight, not wanting to be depressed in a place like Paris. It would be a waste of money and days you could spend earning more of it anyway.

You were wary of actually pursuing this job, teaching was far from what you did until now. Your past work experiences were all corporate jobs or part time jobs at restaurants, bars, and the likes. Seemingly not being able to stop your brain from rattling, you thought: what if someone better applies and they decide against you?

You’d be starting on step one again, having to apply at a multitude of different Art Universities to get the chance of an interview.

All of a sudden you crash into somebody. A tall man is staring down at you in shock, big eyes and his mouth open. Your expression is probably mirroring his, the collision pulled you out of your thoughts.

»I’m so sorry!« you exclaim, rushing to look around for objects he might’ve dropped when you ran into the broad man.

»It’s fine, guess both of us just weren't paying attention,« the man says and gives you a big grin. His cheeks lift up, giving him a cute and less intimidating look than just a few seconds ago.

You give him a once over. He’s handsome, his posture radiated confidence and his eyes were very sharp but now that he is smiling they had a nicer touch to them. You notice the uneven eyelids and a mole on the underside of his nose tip. You guess it isn't very visible for other people, but from your angle, being much shorter than the tall man, you see it clearly. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his long coat and his hair is partly covered by a barret. With the lack of light, you can only guess that it’s of a darker color.

»Are you done checking me out?« His very dark voice, you note that you’ve probably never heard such a deep tone, managed to pull your attention to his face again. You didn’t notice that you’d been staring. The realization made you blush. It’s dark, so of course he won’t see it in the dimly lit streets, but you could feel yourself heat up.

You force out a nervous chuckle. On any other day you would walk away after you made sure to apologize and check for dropped items, but you couldn’t seem to continue your nightly walk this time around. »What are you doing out so late, anyway?« He asks, still smiling, looking into your eyes and waiting for your answer.

»Uh, I was just… on a walk?« Great, talking casually to a stranger wouldn’t be on the list of your strengths, noted. But he laughs and to your surprise you’re not embarrassed by this, more amused and delighted. His laugh is very pretty, just like the man himself.

»Ah, I see. Well, I’ll let you continue your walk then, let’s pay attention to our paths from now on!« He gives you another smile before he raises his hand out of his pocket, notably very big, to wave a little and turn around. You stay there for a moment and watch him slowly walk away.

»He was nice,« you whisper into the cold air, smiling to yourself. The unexpected encounter made your mind less stressed, somehow. The stranger had a calming way about him. With newfound peace of mind, you decide to go back to your hotel room and try to get some sleep.

Your second day in Paris was lovely indeed. The art hung on the walls of museums was impressive and lovely to look at. Drawing had been a small passion of yours for long, but working every chance you get kept you from it for far too long. The sights were truly inspiring and so you decided to make your way to an art supply store to purchase a sketchbook and a few brushes. You could ponder about what you’d draw in a nearby park, perhaps? Nature in Paris was as beautiful as it gets.

With this plan in mind you made your way there, your phone navigation leading your way with your earphones in, trying not to seem as much of a tourist, but you probably do anyway.

Near the store, you stopped the route on your phone and put the device away in your pocket. When you open the door a bell above rings and echoes sweetly into the room to make notice of your entrance. Wooden shelves stocked with many art supplies fill the space. You could take your pick from any medium you’d like to paint with. Oil, water color, pencil,... You take it all in, think about what's best to buy and especially, what suited your bank accounts limits. Wandering along the shelves in deep concentration, you bumped into a hard chest. Just like last night, you come to face the same man. He still wore his smile and his eyes carried the same kind look.

»I see we were destined to meet again,« he said, his smile growing cheeky. »I was actually hoping to see you a second time. Do you often crash into people when daydreaming?« The man chuckles and holds his hand in front of his body, »official introductions are in order, I suppose. My name is Kim Taehyung.«

You returned his smile, although a bit more nervous as he seemed to be. »Were you really hoping to see me again or are you just trying to charm me?«

Your response made him laugh a little, but before he could say another thing, you told him your name. »Seeing you here must mean you’re into art?« You ask.

He nods his head yes. Delighted to hear this, you immediately start a conversation about art. Without hesitation, you ask him about his favorite medium, his style of painting and at last, his inspiration. At the last question he seems to lose his smile. Before, he joyously responded to all of your inquiries, but this one perhaps was too personal of a question. »You don’t need to share, if you’re uncomfortable,« you assure him.

»It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. It’s just that, as of right now, I’ve lost all inspiration,« he admits. »I was going to switch paints in an attempt to regain a bit of my passion.« Relating to this, you nod. Losing inspiration to do what you love — it is tough. No wonder his smile dropped at the mention of it.

You fear that your mishap might have ruined the conversation, but he bounces right back and returns all your questions, helps you choose the best products in your price range and wears his smile just like before. As a way of thanking him you invite him for coffee, but because of his plans he has to refuse. »Another time. I’m sure we’ll meet again.«

Before you could dare to tell him that you are in fact not a local like he is, he is already on his way and without exchanging phone numbers, impossible to reach. The prospect of not seeing him again before you leave Paris crosses your mind and sullies your mood. You suppose you’d just have to deal with it.

You go on to spend the rest of today and the third day of your stay painting the view from your hotel room window, a park and a bridge to distract yourself and get your mood back up. On wednesday evening you expected to have trouble sleeping before your interview the next day. But, to your surprise, your eyes feel heavy and sleep comes over you.

When you wake up, you get dressed and grab two of the paintings from yesterday, your previously prepared binder full of your older art and make your way to the interview. It was held directly where you’d work at — an art school. The thought of pursuing your life-long passion as a career is scary but imagining that this interview could be a success fills your heart with joy. Becoming an art teacher for students who live and breathe art just as you do seems like your purpose. For this reason, you want to try your best and hope to leave a great impression.

As you stand in front of the university's art-department building you keep positive thoughts in mind. Every step that you take in the direction of the stairs, along the hallway and near the room you're supposed to enter, shakes you up with anxiety. Nerves are running rampant more than ever as you hold the door handle and push it down. A deep breathe in, and you step forward into the room.

The broad room is bright, the white and high walls complement the wooden floors. Beautiful art decorates the walls and windows. You suppose on other days this is where students work on their assignments. But today, there are no art supplies laying around, everything is cleaned up nice. When you look to your left, there’s a long table. Three people sit at the table, two of them are conversing quietly, the third is scribbling something onto a paper in front of him.

The woman on the far left looks to the door first and her face splits into a smile. »Hello! Do come in, please.« You nod and smile, close the door behind you and step closer to the table. The woman who called you in pointed towards folded chairs that are leaned on the wall. »Grab a chair! Apologies, we just came back from our break, so we didn’t get to prepare the room.« You assure her that it’s fine, grab a chair and introduce yourself before sitting down.

»Very nice to meet you. I’m Madame Dupont, next to me is Monsieur Batiste and at last, Monsieur Kim. Monsieur Batiste and I are both teachers here. While Monsieur Kim does give lectures, his profession is fully dedicated to the arts. You might recognize him by his Pseudonym, Vantae.« She introduces from the left, starting with herself and going to the right, leaving the man who hadn’t raised his eyes up until now for last. The mention of Vantae makes you almost jump, you were always very fond of his work. The opportunity to meet one of your favorite artists in person makes this interview so much better. You keep your eyes on him, waiting to see his face and as you meet his gaze, you are surprised to recognize the man.

Vantae or Monsieur Kim, as in Kim Taehyung, the man who you’ve spent a great deal of this Tuesday with, talking about art. How come it never crossed his mind to mention that he was in fact an actual artist, with great talent? The shock hits your gut deeply but you can’t let it show on your face or hinder you from making a good impression on the other interviewers.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath in. Madame Dupont, seemingly leading the interview, holds her hand out and asks for your documents and the binder with your art. While she and the others look through your portfolio and comment on aspects that they like, you begin talking about yourself, per their request. You tell them of your great love for painting and how you’ve always felt at ease with a pencil or brush in hand. One or two questions to your drawings are asked that you gladly elaborate on and after exactly forty-two minutes Madame Dupont, Monsieur Batiste and Taehyung stand up to each shake your hand.

»It was great speaking with you today. We will definitely contact you in a few days and notify you of our decision. Your art is very promising and you would be a great addition to our team!« Monsieur Batiste beams when he speaks and holds your hand in both of his. The two others at both his sides nod in agreement.

Taehyung’s smile grows cheeky when you hold your hand above the table to reach for his. »Pleasure to meet you here today, Madame. I, as well, would more than appreciate your presence at this school,« he brazenly speaks. His words are laced with mischief, as are his eyes sparkling with.

You express your gratitude to receive the chance for this interview and emphasize that you’d love to take this job offer. A very positive feeling is settling within your chest as you leave the building and walk along the street. They were genuinely nice and made the interview a good experience. But the encounter with Kim Taehyung still sticks with you. He seemed to already expect you there, almost like he recognized you from the picture on your application to the school. It would explain why he was so sure to meet you again.

The call from Madame Dupont came exactly four days after you were back at home. The moment that your phone rings with a caller-ID you don’t recognize you pick up, already anticipating who it might be. »We’re so happy to tell you that you have been accepted as our next art teacher at the Pariser University of Arts!« She says, with almost as much excitement as you feel hearing it. »We want you to start as soon as you can move to Paris. Our team has been developing a schedule for you to adjust to teaching the students and we can’t wait for you to join us.«

After the call, you waste no time to write your resignation for your jobs and to prepare everything that needs to be done and taken care of before you leave the country — permanently.

After living in Paris for four months now, you can’t imagine leaving ever again. Work has been everything you hoped it would be and more. At the beginning you just followed Madame Dupont, Taehyung and Monsieur Batiste to their classes, attended to printing and copying documents and got to do the occasional stand-in class. Today, you’re still in training but get to work on your own most of the time. Your coworkers help you prepare for your classes and give you tips on how to improve student-involvement. You enjoy working, for probably the first time in your life. With time you’re starting to get along better with your coworkers — not only the trio that interviewed you, but also the whole rest of the teaching staff. But with Taehyung especially.

The first week you arrived, he kept on teasing you about how shocked you were when you found out that he is Vantae. He also admitted to recognizing you from your application, when the two of you met in the art shop. »I didn’t notice when we bumped into each other at night, but the day after it clicked. I’m a very curious person, you intrigued me… I just had to get to know you,« he confessed back then.

That day, he also showed you his in-school art studio. It is still a gorgeous sight, you’re in awe whenever you get to enter it. He only works there when he has lectures that day, so it’s not the full extent of what he’s tinkering with. Still, you can recognize Vantae in everything he creates. Even quick, messy sketches. But like he said in the art shop, inspiration has left him with blank canvases or unfinished projects and the frustration is always clearly visible in his face when he invites you to the studio.

Last time you were there, he invited you to come see his studio at home. The thought of seeing the place where Vantae painted some of his greatest works intrigued you so much, you agreed despite being antsy about spending your time off with him.

This leads you to where you are now, standing in front of his door. You take a few seconds to actually ring the bell but once you do, it doesn’t take long for it to swing open and reveal Taehyung and his usual smile. He swings his arm into the room to ask you to enter and that you do. To the right of the entrance area is a flight of stairs, but Taehyung walks through the door frame in front of you, so you follow him.

»I was just about to make coffee before heading up to the studio.« He said. »Do you want a cup as well?« You accept the offer and look around his place. The living room in which you are standing was huge and flooded with light from the big windows. A bar separated the area from his kitchen, where he leans against the counter. Behind him, his coffee machine is buzzing away as it’s filling the cups he put underneath. Once they are full, he hands you one of them. Both of you add milk and sugar to your preferences and then Taehyung starts making his way back through the doorway and turns to the staircase. »Let’s go!« he cheers on his way up.

He talks a lot about the different Paintings on his walls, the ones he hasn’t finished yet and the ones he wants to start. He begins sketching at his desk and you sit next to him to watch. Over the last few weeks he asked you more and more often to just do that — he never explains why. By now it’s become routine though, so you don’t question it anymore.

Every once in a while Taehyung pauses and crosses out what he drew or he erases the pencil lines and starts fresh. You can tell that the longer he keeps at it, the more his patience runs out. With time, he stops trying to fix or cover up his mistakes, but instead ends up crumbling his paper sheet together and throwing the whole thing away.

He finally closes his artbook and looks over at you with tired eyes, pouting. You can’t resist the coo that leaves your mouth.

»I can‘t seem to draw anything at all, lately. It frustrates me,« the earnest way he speaks about his thoughts and feelings makes you a little happy, you’re glad that he’s comfortable enough to confide in you like this.

»Maybe you need a new muse?« you suggest and absentmindedly bite your lip as you try to think of a solution to his problem. There needs to be something that could inspire him. You don’t notice him inching closer to you, not until his breath tickles your cheek. Taehyung isn’t pouting anymore. Rather than that, his face is full of mischief, like it was months ago after your interview.

»Can you sit still?« he hurriedly opens the artbook again, grabs a piece of drawing coal and gets to work. Your eyes widen with the realization of what he was doing when his eyes flicker up to your face and back down to the paper. Not wanting to interrupt the flow he seems to be in, you just sit still and wait for when he is done. When he is, he turns his artbook to you and shows off his work with a proud grin on his lips. It was beautiful, to say the least.

»Would you mind spending a little more time in my studio? I would love to try this with oil colors,« he carefully asks. It’s late and a part of your brain tells you to not stay with a man that you’re slowly overstepping your work relationship with, but you know that you probably can’t sleep well tonight anyway, so you agree to stay with him, despite your better knowledge.

»I wouldn’t mind,« you say to his visible surprise. »I enjoy your company and your art. If I can help you regain your inspiration, I’m more than glad to do that.«

To Taehyung, you carry the calmness of the ocean and he could really drown in your presence. Just looking at you puffing up your hair nearly makes him drool. Being alone with you for so long is going to make him crazy, he just knows.But you could really be the solution for the artist block that he has been struggling with for the past few months. What you said earlier made him realize that you already were his muse. Everytime you’re next to him when he draws, he feels himself regaining his inspiration little by little. Maybe all that was left for him to truly get out of his slump wasn’t to switch the medium but to find the right view to draw.

After you find your position again, he starts a draft of the painting he had in mind. You are of course the main focus of it, but the hard part is to find out what background will do your beauty justice.

Late into the night, Taehyung finally finishes the painting. All the coffee in the world couldn’t keep the two of you up any longer. You grab your things and follow him back downstairs, but before you could announce your departure, he takes your hand. »You shouldn’t walk home alone this late. Please, stay here.« He almost whispers this and pulls you towards his chest gently. You think about it for a moment, staying at his place would really cross the line of professionalism. Finally, the thought of sharing a comfortable bed with a warm blooded, handsome man like Taehyung won you over. You sigh and nod your head.

»Let’s go to bed, then.« You both smile at each other.

He gives you a toothbrush and together you stand in front of the sink and exchange the occasional glance. His hands touch your arms, your waist and hips. Always gentle and they never linger for too long — it’s comfortable. The question of who takes the couch is never asked and on an unspoken mutual agreement you both slip under the same blanket, his arm behind your head and your back against his chest.

The darkness in the bedroom envelops you. You only feel Taehyung’s chest rise and fall while you fall asleep quicker than you ever did before.

To be woken up in the morning by Taehyung’s now even deeper voice wasn’t on your list of possible outcomes when you moved to Paris. Nonetheless you really enjoy it. The shirt he gave you last night to sleep in covers you enough to stay decent and in his opinion makes you look even cuter than you did before. Bedhead and all.

He serves two cups of coffee and egg on toast after you beg him to cook you some breakfast.

»Seeing you like this…,« he mutters. »I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, you’re way too pretty. Can’t have anyone steal my muse from me.« You laugh together with him and hide your face in your palms. His attention stays on you the whole time. He can’t help himself — he rounds the bar to where you’re seated and lays his hand on the side of your face. »I adore you,« this, he said in a very serious tone, unlike before. »Please let me take you out to dinner sometime.« You look up from your hands and see the earnesty in his eyes.

»I’d love to,« you respond and he smiles.

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