Paper Cranes | Kim Taehyung (M)

In every lifetime, every universe, my soul will be drawn to yours.

I will choose you in every life.

im not crazy for saying that i found comfort in this chapter which fucking titled HURT. im so glad yoongi saved oc and helped her and jk as well. and JIMIN..... he's turning to kinda good guy??? i really dont understand whom he's scared of. i cant fucking wait for the next chapter. you did a really really good job on this sibi ♡

↳ Index [Chapter 20 - Hurt]

Warnings: sadness, signs of trauma, slight violence, but also sweet healing moments 

Wordcount: 11k

a/n: i know there is lots of plot in this chapter jfajsd i hope it’s not confusing

Is that your mother singing? And is that her hand caressing your hair? Those sheets, they feel like the sheets of your childhood bed. Soft, warm, cotton. That smell. Is that your father’s cologne? It smells like his hugs. Why can’t you open your eyes? You want to see them. You haven’t been back in your childhood home in years, not after the fire burned everything down. Paws on wooden tiles. No way. Is that Cookie? She is alive again? You laugh, but nothing comes out. You want to open your eyes and look at her, but you can’t. She barks, it makes your father laugh and soon your mother laughs too. Mama? Papa? 

You sit up and gasp, ripping your eyes open. This isn’t your childhood home, this is a forest. This isn’t your childhood bed, this is the wet, cold ground. And who is that shadow sitting in the dark?

“Took you long enough”, he grumbles and steps into the light of the full moon. Min Yoongi.

“You?” you gasp and it is not long that realisation washes over you. You reach for your neck. It is dry and doesn’t hurt anymore. You pull your hand away, staring at your clean palms, “what?”  

“I fed you my blood”, he says calmly.

You gasp, throat constricting. Your hand is on your chest, feeling for a heartbeat. 

“No you aren’t dead”, he says dryly. He stands up and closes the distance between you and him. He squats down, red eyes racing over your face, “although I did think you would die on me for a second. You’ve been out for five hours.”

“Five hours?” you gasp, blinking in confusion, “Yoongi what is going on? What is-“, you stop talking when you watch Yoongi’s head snap up in alert. He sniffles then growls.

“Okay we gotta go”, he whispers and wraps his strong fingers around your wrist.

“What?”

“We have to go, didn’t you hear me?” he spits angrily, pulling you to your feet.

You are dizzy and the world is nothing but a blurred mess. You wobble and stumble, head pounding painfully.

“I’m so dizzy. Yoongi wait.”

“There is no time to wait”, he barks, faltering only a second later when he sees how your eyes flutter in exhaustion. He sighs, “fine, I’ll walk for you.”

He throws you over his shoulder afterwards, ignoring your squeaked out complaints. And then he runs. He runs so fast that trees turn into dark streaks of blurriness and the ground beneath your eyes is indistinct.

“Yoongi put me down please”, you plead, feeling your eyes tear up in the cold wind.

But Yoongi doesn’t answer you. He continues running through the endless forest. The darkness doesn’t even phase him, he manoeuvres through the thick undergrowth and high trees as if it was the brightest day.

“Please…” you plead. 

“Quit it”, he hisses, dodging a family of low trees.

“I’m so confused, what happened?”

“Quiet.”

Oh your stomach aches so much. Yoongi is way too fast, you will throw up if he doesn’t slow down.

“Yoongi, please slow down.”

“Oh my god”, he stops, picking you up like a little baby so you would be facing him, “if I tell you to be quiet then be fucking quiet. You want to tell every bloody vampire in a radius of fifty miles your location?”

“What?” you gasp.

“Their little feeding stupidity alerted others of our kind, they smelled blood. Don’t you get it?” he spits.

“I- holy shit.”

“Now you get it”, he throws you back over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “so be quiet until I tell you that you can speak.”

And so Yoongi runs again, through the forest until he reaches the gates. Down the empty streets and quiet alleyways. And you stay quiet, cursing your heart for racing so loudly and your brain for slowly coming to its senses. 

Feeding stupidity. 

Yoongi told you so himself. Someone fed on you, used you as their own blood bag, almost ripped you to shreds. It was them. Park Jimin and Kim Namjoon and… Taehyung. Your love, the man who swore to protect you. He led you to your demise.

“Stop sobbing”, Yoongi hisses, taking a sharp turn to the right.

“They killed me”, you sob. It hurts so much. You want to cry for hours.

“You’re not dead, we’re almost there”.

“Why did you heal me? Why? I could have been like you, I could have been like you.”

“You don’t want this, trust me”, he mumbles, unphased by your continuous sobs and cries.

He betrayed you. He gave you promises of safety and he forced you into danger. You trusted him and he allowed them to kill you. It hurts so much, it’s so unbearably much.

Keep reading

forgive me lord for I have imagined a life far more soft and tender than the one you created for me

Cooking For Two (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: ex-boyfriend Seokjin! x reader genre(s): just angst... i'm sorry au(s): exes to exes word count: 1.3k warnings: lots of regret, pining, misunderstandings, mentions of a past fight, Seokjin gets burned, both literally and figuratively rating: PG15

summary: based on this tweet, "seokjin the type to make too much pasta after a breakup because he's used to cooking for two" T_T

a/n: i was itching to write some good angst... and my muse (aka Jin) responded! this is sad, and i made myself cry. tagging @beckysworld7 because you encouraged me hehe <3 this is pretty unedited btw

Seokjin's ears fill with a loud hiss, tearing his gaze away from the soft patter of rain outside his window, and back to the boiling water on the stove. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the water overflowing and sizzling on the hot stove top. Cursing internally, he chastises himself for not remembering to put a wooden spoon over the top. It was a habit he rarely forgot, until, of course, his life had been tossed so far afield that he had lost all sense of familiarity.

And so, he continued on, fighting tooth and nail to hold on to the parts of his life that defined who he was before it had happened. However, the breakup had left him broken, empty, watching you take the best parts of him, of you both, and throw them away like they’d never meant anything at all.

He reaches over to pull the frothing pot off the stove, yelping as the blistering heat of the hot metal kisses his bare skin. Shaking his hand, he yells in pain and runs cold water over the burn, searching for some sort of relief. The taste of ash coats his mouth, and he’s not sure whether it’s from the pasta he’d nearly burnt, or the acrid memories that have begun to rise up from the deep place he’d buried them so many months ago.

Pappardelle with homemade bolognese sauce. He’d made the dish a thousand times before. It had been your favorite after every night out, every big celebration, even on rainy days, like today, when you weren't feeling well. The fresh, al dente noodles and the simmering hearty sauce were irrevocably tied to the memory of your relationship, each bite creating a different snapshot in his brain of times that had passed long ago.

Every Friday night since the last time he saw you, Seokjin made two bowls of pasta, sitting alone at the dining table, breathless and begging for you to walk through the door. Waiting until the steaming bowls ran cold, he finally accepted that you weren't coming today. After finishing one bowl, he'd put away the other one, sneaking bites of the cold, rubbery dough throughout the weekend; coming home from another failed date, or right before bed when the longing was at its worst.

He heard Namjoon’s voice in the back of his head, chastising him that the way he was living wasn’t healthy, that it’d been too long since you had gone. Seokjin knew his friend was right. But Seokjin didn’t know how to live his life without you, just like he’d never known how to only make one serving of your favorite recipe. And so he sat there, in the oppressive loneliness of the apartment you two had once shared, and lost himself.

Shuddering from the cold, he gazes over to the warm, calm flames that burn in the fireplace. At the end of it all, he hadn’t even remembered what caused the fight that ended it - all he remembers was the rage, the inferno that had erupted between the two of you. It was like nothing he had experienced before - hot, angry, and scathing. Blazing down everything in its path. The bitter stench of regret had settled deep inside his lungs as your footsteps ran out and closed the door behind you.

The doorbell rings, followed by the distinct sound of three rhythmic knocks, and Seokjin freezes.

Swinging the door open, his dazed mind wonders if it’s all been a dream. Because it’s you, cheeks red from the cold, bundled up in the plaid scarf and red mittens he’d gotten you for your very first Christmas together. You look beautiful, and Seokjin’s heart hurts all over again. Because you’re not his to love anymore.

You look towards his downturned gaze, and immediately think to yourself that it was a mistake coming here. The two of you stand on opposite sides of the threshold, forced into an impasse of your own doing.

Deciding to break the silence, you clear your throat, and Jin’s glassy eyes meet yours, pain contained within their umber depths.

“I’m so sorry for showing up like this,” you gasp, not realizing the words come out as a sob. “But I was making a dish, umm, the pappardelle with bolognese. And I realized I left the Le Creuset pot with you.”

Taking a deep breath, you force air into your lungs, mustering up the strength to continue while feeling the tears prick your eyelashes.

“You probably don’t want to give it back,” you mumble in the smallest voice you can manage. “And it’s unfair of me to ask for it, but I needed to make something for a thing I have to go to and I remembered you, uhmm, I mean your recipe.”

Peering through your lids at Seokjin, you watch him gulp as he tries to force a response, struggling to get the words out.

“I have the pot,” he garbles, voice hoarse. “Take it, and don’t worry about the pasta. I made some. You can have it too.”

Looking your ex-boyfriend in the eyes, the man you thought you’d have forever with, a sob escapes your throat, and your heavy breaths echo in the frosty air as he waits for you to respond.

“W-what do you mean take it?” you whimper, fingers itching underneath your mittens to reach out and brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.

“I make it every Friday,” he whispers. “Two bowls. You can take the other bowl with you.”

You watch him disappear into the apartment, coming back out with a sizzling pot of pasta in his hands. He pauses, visage lost deep in contemplation, before the lines in his face disappear and he gives you a soft smile.

“Or,” he goes on. “You could come in and have some with me? There’ll probably be enough leftovers for you to take home with you.”

You feel a pit in your stomach at his proposition, glancing over at his pretty eyes and parted lips as they hopefully await your response.

Looking away, you stare down the hall of the apartment complex, not wanting to meet his gaze as you push your red mitten to the side and Seokjin catches a glimpse at your blanched fingers.

A sparkling, oval-cut diamond sits on your left ring finger, and through your pounding heartbeat, you hear Seokjin let out a pained whine.

“I-, I’m so sorry, Jin. I never should have come,” you weep, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes one more time, you’d fall in love all over again.

Turning on your heels, you leave him devastated, thoughts swimming with uncertainty about the fiancé waiting for you in the parlor of his parents’ house. Knowing deep in your soul that part of your heart would forever belong to the man you left at the threshold, clutching the steaming dish in his hands.

Slamming the pot onto the counter, Jin chokes on his tears, heaving in between deep breaths as he watches you run away through the window.

Lifting the spoon to his lips, he inhales a large bite of the dish, hoping to nurse his broken heart, only to have a dull flavorless bite coat his tongue. He’d forgotten the salt. Mourning the loss of his finesse for the dish that had once warmed his heart, he can’t help but remark at the forfeit of his love for you as well.

He feels rage overtake him, throwing the pot against the wall. The tasteless rubbery mess along with the shattered remnants of the last item of yours he’d kept painting a gut-wrenching portrait as he slumps to the floor.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, tears leaking from his eyes as his whole body shakes.

When the clock strikes midnight, Seokjin rises, picking up the bland mess in his hands and throwing it in the trash. For good.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

The kind of lovers they are ft BTS

I mean, its June y'all and you know what that means. I'll be doing this for all 7 of them but here's two to start off

It is boyfriend headcanons for ksj and a meet-cute for knj

Kim Seokjin Oppa, come back safe and sound!!

Seokjin is the friends to lovers, shared looks across a room, boisterous laughter like the sound of a windshield wiper. Seokjin who helps improve your Korean when you start interning at HYBE, Seokjin who tries to explain his dad jokes to you, tries to feed you Korean delicacies. It was easy friendship that bloomed between the two of you, who seemingly have nothing in common but once you start talking, it’s like neither of you ever thinks about stopping, him teasing you in Korean as you give it back twofold in both English and french. It is him absolutely hating PDA, where the only contact you’ll have with him outside is a hand at the small of your back or your pinkies linked together but behind closed doors, he is all over you, all over you. He loves twirling you around in the kitchen, loves cooking for you as you sit on the counter, completely smitten with this man. The second he notices you looking at him like he hung the moon, the tips of his ears go red, a small smile overtaking his features. He turns around, completely embarrassed, “waah yaah I know I am world wide handsome but stop looking at me like that.” He loves it when you cook for him, fumbling through the kitchen, looking up videos on how to make a dish form your hometown for him, maybe it is too salty, maybe there wasn’t enough spice but gods, he eats it all through your stuttered apologies about how he doesn’t have to eat it, promising him you’ll get better at it. This mf eats it all with a smile on his face, telling you he loves it. It is the days when he’s not BTS’s Kim Seokjin but just your boyfriend Jin who loves sleeping in, arm around your waist, face buried in your curls, just the Jin who doesn’t let you leave the bed, who loves playing video games as you sit on his lap, just as involved in it as he is, making noises of outrage as he fails to clear a level. Jin who is your loudest cheerleader, always with you, every step of the way as you learn to love your body and accept it. Jin who makes sure you take care of yourself during your exams or as work stress keeps mounting. Jin who never forgets an anniversary, making sure to clear his schedule ahead of time. Jin who doesn’t like you feeling jealous, like the mere thought of him finding anyone other than you is so absurd to him, it is impossible. Jin who always rubs soothing circles on your palm as soon as he notices you feeling insecure. He’s right here and he is yours.

Kim Namjoon oh boy, does it show I love reading?

Kim Namjoon is the kind of love that feels like bonfire on a cold winter night, the first sip of water on a scorching day. It is the relief of finally coming home. It starts off with him walking to the book store where you work at, a hole in the wall really, feeling so lost as he wanders around the fantasy aisle. You walk up to him, careful to make your presence known asking if you could help him, maybe offer him some recommendations. He smiles bashfully, dimples appearing on his cheek as he acquiesces, “Just wanted to try reading some fantasy, either grimdark or maybe fiction...” he trails off, looking unsure. You brighten instantaneously, rambling on and on about various books you’ve read, what you think he might prefer, your favorite authors in that genre and the like. You’ve always been a bookworm at heart, only novels though, which was why school didn’t pan out. You abruptly stop, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink as you finally take time to breathe, feeling his gaze on your skin, part amusement and part genuine curiosity. He buys all the books you’ve recommended, leaving with a quiet, “I’ll let you know how I feel about them.”

Huh—? how? You get your answer after about a week as he rushes into your store, looking completely flabbergasted and utterly furious, “what was that ending? Holy shit, is the sequel out yet?” Then you both get talking, getting along like a house on fire, both of you equally opinionated, equally enthusiastic about finally finding someone you could ramble about books with. As their band starts getting more popular, he visits less frequently, conversations switching over to texts and then video calls. You keep waiting, for the other shoe to drop, for him to stop calling, but it never stops. No matter which corner of the world he is in, he still calls, odd fucking times of the day sure, but he doesn’t forget. Falling for Joon is falling for his words, how your conversations strip you raw, leaving you completely exposed, blood on your hands as you tear your heart out of your chest, letting him see, spilling your deepest thoughts, a sinner at the altar. It is his quiet understanding, songs that hit a bit too close to home, of utter longing, of being young and stupidly in love. It is you learning Korean for him, surprising him on one of his birthdays by sending him a voice note, him bursting into tears as soon as he hears it. It is you being his biggest cheerleader, not the loudest but always steady in your presence, it is him always cheering you on, never forgetting the dates of your exams or important work meetings.

It is soft laughter as he breaks yet another thing at your house, embarrassed smiles and warm hugs, him trying to cook something for you, yet destroying your kitchen so thoroughly you had to order in. It is his quiet frustration at not being able to spend enough time with you, you crawling into his lap, hands in his hair as you whisper confessions of love into his skin, his hands digging into your waist. He is the kind of lover who needs to touch you like he needs air, hands on you always, at the small of your waist, holding your hand, arm around your shoulders. Not shy about PDA. If he wants to kiss his girl, he will, the rest of the world be damned. He leaves notes for you everywhere. You don’t know when and how he manages to hide them, but you keep finding little notes about how much he loves you, even one month after he’s left for the tour. He loves surprising you at work, buying you flowers and everything pretty. Just him being so stupidly in love with you, most of the songs he writes these days were love songs. Always does a shoutout to ‘my girl’ at the end of his concerts and at award shows. Once you surprised him at one of his concerts, face lighting up as he spots you, staring at you completely dumbfounded as he continues to rap. Bursts into tears because holy fuck it has been so long since he got to touch his girl. The entire stadium coos. He gets a small tattoo of your name on his chest. You both just love each other so much, there was no one without the other. No Kim Namjoon without you and no you without him.

This is my first time writing for BTS, so they might be a bit ooc but I really hope this was able to put a smile on at least one of your faces.

never gonna stop thinking about this look

faded love | pjm

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 he doesn’t need to say it. because you can feel your husband, park jimin, falling out of love with you. 〞married couple au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: jimin x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst (rip sorry) ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 16k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: couples therapy (is that a warning?), cheating/infidelity, some swearing, soft mushy smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, lots of kissing, this is just v soft mushy sex, like super light softcore romantic porn

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: W H A T I S U P D E M O N S! I’m back with another instalment of the mixtape series, i sincerely hope you all enjoy it!! almost everything is read through and edited except the smut because like,,, its 4am and the sun is coming up and i’m ill and tired

⇥ part of the mixtape series

⏤ unedited

The signs were there.

Your relationship with your husband, Park Jimin, was slowly fading; slowly dwindling into nothingness. You don’t really recall exactly why you’ve been drifting apart or what caused the start of the drift. All you knew, was that one day, two months ago, your husband had come home with a changed, indifferent air around him. Within that long agonising month, you had tried everything to garner his attention. You suggested bike riding down the Han River liked you used to when you began dating, trying to rekindle some of the love and passion in your relationship. However, Jimin had refuted the offer, claiming he had a busy day at work and he was tired. When you suggested a date night, something relaxing like a movie and dinner, Jimin had rebuked that too, not wanting to leave home. But when you’d suggested staying in and watching a film, he’d turned that down too; heading straight to bed instead.

For two months you tried whatever you could. From planned days in so that he could rest if he was tired, all the way to suggesting fun and exciting things like trips to museums or the park like you used to when you were dating. But each and every single idea was turned down with some excuse or another. At some point you began wondering if you had done something to annoy him or said something that caused him to begin pulling away from you. But no matter how much you racked your brain, you couldn’t pinpoint any thing. He was just no longer interested in spending time with you.

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puns || kim seokjin

Kim Seokjin x reader

Summary: A handsome stranger is telling puns on the bus, and you find them almost as funny as he does.

Genre: fluff

Words: 1838

I sighed as I took a seat on the bus, on my way to work. I always enjoyed the ride there; it gave me a chance to clear my mind and people-watch for the journey, preparing myself for the busy and tiring night ahead. I stretched my legs, tired from college all day, and knowing I would be on my feet all night.

Despite my fatigue, I was in a good mood, happily watching the city pass by and enjoying the warm, late spring weather. I moved my attention from the window to the door as the bus stopped, allowing people to get on. I watched as an old man pottered on first, a middle-aged woman following him, and just behind her two young men, talking amicably as they strolled on. 

Both were evidently attractive, but my eyes lingered on the taller one. He had light brown hair framing his forehead and smooth skin, his facial features almost making him appear godly as they spread into a beautiful smile. They took a seat in front of me, their backs to me as they continued their conversation. 

Unintentionally, I began to listen to what they were saying, my attention automatically drawn to them.

“Okay, Yoongi, listen to this one,” the taller one started, already grinning, “how does a penguin build its house?” His friend simply sighed in response, looking out of the window. “Igloos it together!” He exclaimed, letting out a loud, squeaky laugh and clapping his hands together.

I grinned at the joke, knowing they couldn’t see me. I had an easy sense of humour, and puns were my weakness. ‘Yoongi’ didn’t even bat an eyelid at the joke, remaining completely deadpan, but the tall one didn’t seemed phased by this reaction. In fact, his failure to elicit a reaction in his friend only seemed to encourage him as he continued.

“Hey, did you hear about the kidnapping?” He asked, giggling. 

“No.” His friend said, sounding completely unamused and sick of puns. 

“Well, don’t worry, he woke up.” His doe eyes turned to crescents, his body shaking as he chuckled. I had to stifle a laugh at that one, leaning back and smirking. I admired his willpower; determinedly continuing despite his friend’s obvious disinterest. Again, the other boy barely reacted. 

They then began another conversation, discussing what they would do that night. I was still listening to them (reassuring myself that it would be pretty hard for me not to, considering how close they were sitting to me), and though not staring obviously, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off the taller boy as he spoke. The late afternoon sun leaking through the bus windows lit up his features, making his hair appear golden and his skin glowing. I dragged my gaze away and looked out of the window, listening as they discussed which restaurant to visit later.

“Should we go to that new place down the road? Their cold noodles are supposed to be really good.” The smaller boy was contemplating, scrolling through his phone. 

“That reminds me,” started the taller one, “what do you call a fake noodle?” His friend groaned, and I couldn’t help but to smile. 

“I don’t care.” Yoongi continued to look at his phone. I leant forward, excited for the answer.

“An impasta!” He finished the joke, clapping his hands. I couldn’t help the barking laugh that escaped my lips for a second before I clapped a hand over my mouth. My face heated up as I realised how loud it had been. Both boys whipped their heads around, the one who told the joke grinning at me.

“Sorry,” I giggled, waving my hand, “that was a really good joke.” He beamed at me, still laughing himself.

“Right? See, Yoongi, someone with a real sense of humour!” He said triumphantly, gesturing towards me, and I blushed. Yoongi just shook his head at the both of us, giving me a small, polite smile, before returning to finding a restaurant on his phone. The other one turned back to me, a friendly smile gracing his features.

“Do you know any jokes?” He asked after a moment. I racked my brains for a good pun, wanting to keep the conversation going with him. 

“Okay, what do you call an elephant that doesn’t matter?” I questioned, already smiling as I thought about the answer. He pondered it for a second, before shaking his head.

“I don’t know.”

“An irrelephant.” I answered, and he immediately erupted into laughter, clapping his hands together. I beamed, proud of myself for making him laugh. I was surprised to see Yoongi turn around briefly with a small grin at my joke too. This immediately offended the taller one.

“Ya, why do you laugh at her jokes but not at mine?” He demanded, his eyes growing wide. Yoongi scoffed as I watched on with amusement.

“Her jokes are better than yours.” He replied bluntly, and received another outraged look from the boy next to him, who then turned to me, ignoring the comment.

“That was a good one. What’s your name?” He chuckled. 

“I’m Y/N.” I returned his smile.

“Jin,” he gestured to himself, “and Yoongi.” He pointed to his darker haired friend. “Nice to meet you.” 

Finally, he had a name. I looked at him, taking in his soft features and open face. It suited him. 

We continued to chat good-naturedly as the bus rattled around the city, my forearms now resting on the backs of their chairs as I leaned forward. Yoongi turned out to be a lot friendlier than he looked, and Jin was just as enigmatic as he seemed from an outside perspective. I found myself frowning, disappointment filling me as I saw my bus stop looming ahead.

I needed to find a way to see him again. Thinking quickly, I pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled something down, leaning on the empty seat next to me. I stood up as the bus slowed to a stop, stumbling a bit and holding onto a pole for support.

“This is my stop, but I couldn’t help but to overhear that you guys are looking for a place to eat.” I grinned, handing Jin the piece of paper. “This is the restaurant I work at. It’s pretty good.” I heard the bus doors open behind me. “Stop by if you feel like it. I’m working all night.” 

I got off before I could hear a reply, watching him grin at me through the window as the bus drove off, my own cheeks still stretched into a cheerful smile.

Later that evening as I waited tables, I kept getting distracted by watching the door for the people coming in, hoping to see Jin’s face amongst the swarms of customers entering. I bit my lip, trying to catch a glance of him as I took orders and hurriedly laid places.

“Y/N, can you focus please? What is up with you today?” My colleague asked irritably, her arms laden with dishes as she pointed to the table that needed to be cleared. I shook my head, apologising.

“Yes, sorry, nothing.” I sighed, quickly moving to pick up empty dishes. I carried them back to the bar, seeing her shake her head in annoyance, frowning at the door.

“Look,” she nodded to the door, “flip a coin to decide who takes them?” 

I looked to the entrance to see a boisterous group of young men, talking loudly and laughing; the type of customers you didn’t want to be in charge of. However, I immediately recognised Yoongi at the front of the group, his distinctive hair and piercing gaze separating him easily from the average customer, and next to him, a taller, more familiar boy. Jin noticed me quickly and met my gaze, waving across the room. I grinned, patting my colleague’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” I made my way over to them, smirking. 

“Good evening gentlemen.” I said, giving them all menus but repeatedly meeting Jin’s gaze as I did so. I briefly looked around at the six other boys, recognising only Yoongi, and receiving smiles from all of them.

“Y/N,” my attention was brought back to Jin. He pretended to look at the menu for a while before looking up. “why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?” I supressed a smile, pretending to think for a moment.

“…is it because it was two tired?” I asked innocently, watching as his face dropped. His expression of shock was priceless, and I laughed along with the six others, who immediately began teasing him.

“You’ve been practicing.” He narrowed his eyes at me, grinning.

“Well, I had to, to keep up with you.” I flirted back, and he simply stared back with a small grin. I felt his eyes on me as I took their orders and went to serve other tables, the smile barely leaving my face.

I got reprimanded several times by colleagues as I spent most of the night by their table, exchanging puns with Jin and joking around with the others, and only leaving when I was afraid I would actually lose my job. All seven of them gave off an aura of sincerity and humility that drew me towards them, but the energy between Jin and I was something that was impossible to describe; I couldn’t seem to stay away from him.

At the end of my shift, they finally decided it was time to leave. The other boys waved goodbye, giving me a generous tip before walking out, still talking and laughing loudly. Jin was the last to leave the table, and he stayed sitting as I cleared it around him.

“Can I help you?” He asked, reaching for some plates, but I slapped his hand away.

“No, Jin, it’s literally my job.” I chuckled. “Besides, my manager will think I’m slacking if he sees a customer helping me.” He nodded understandingly, resting his chin in his hands and watching me for a moment, a small smile on his face. Once I had finished wiping the table he stood up and walked around it, coming to stand very close to me. I had to crane my neck upwards to see him, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he peered down at me.

I waited for him to say something as he seemed to just be studying my face. I distracted myself, putting my notebook away and wiping my hands on a cloth, before he finally spoke.

“So Y/N.” I looked up and met his intense gaze, my breath catching in my throat. He cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Do you like raisins?”

I frowned for a second, before smiling dejectedly; that hadn’t been what I was expecting him to say, but how could I expect anything else but another pun? I sighed patiently, giving him a small smile.

“Not really.” I admitted and he smirked, his eyes glinting. 

“Then how about a date?”

masterlist

↳ Index [Chapter 18 - Desperation]

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader 

Warnings: switch!Taehyung, morning sex, desperate & passionate sex, oral (f.recieving), body worshipping, handjob, edging (m.recieving), bondage with a tie, use of vibrators, multiple orgasms (f.recieving), overstimulation, he is being very goddamn needy (he has his fangs out *screeches*), dirty talk, creampie, the aftercare *sobs*, emotional pillowtalk & Taehyung being so in love

Wordcount: 10.9k

a/n: *throws chair against a wall but it bounces back and hits me in the face and knocks me tf out*

The next morning you get woken up by a painful cry. You jolt up from being startled, feeling confused for a moment until a quiet sob next to you calls your attention. Taehyung is still deep asleep, his whole body is shaking and his eyebrows are furrowed. He must be having a bad dream, judging by his tearstained cheeks and the way his fingers grip the blanket. He had even gotten rid of his shirt in his sleep, but despite being shirtless his skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, making his hair stick to his forehead.

“Taehyung, wake up”, you tell him, shaking him softly.

He doesn’t budge, the nightmare still has its grip on him, making him writhe on the mattress and forcing whimpers out between his gritted teeth.

“Taehyung, wake up”, you try again a little louder than before, shaking him again.

He jolts awake with a loud gasp, ripping his eyes open and looking around the room without focus. His hand is pressed to his chest as if he is trying to check if his heart is still there. He looks utterly confused, probably still half asleep. A single tear escapes his eye and runs down the side of his face.

“You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” you ask softly, stroking the sweat-soaked strands of hair out of his face.

Relief washes over his face when the sound of your sweet voice rings in his ears and he can feel the touch of your warm fingers on his face. He can feel the weight fall from his shoulders, the painful ache in his chest is finally gone.

“You are here”, he croaks out, his voice still heavy from sleep.

“Of course I am”, you assure him, cupping his cheek, “what did you dream about?”

“Nothing, just-“, he touches your hand, “-doesn’t matter.”

He sits up to get eye to eye with you, kneeling on the bed. He holds your face in his hands, his eyes race over your body as if trying to look at everything at the same time. Your eyes, your lips, your hands, your stomach, your chest, your hair, your nose, your neck. Everything is here, real and warm. You are here, next to him. It was all a bad dream, you didn’t leave him all alone in this world as you moved on to your next life.

“You didn’t leave”, he whispers.

“Why shoul-“, you don’t get to finish your sentence before Taehyung’s lips come crashing down on yours. 

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SEOKJIN x GQ KOREA