paris syndrome | kth [m.]
Paris syndrome: a condition exhibited by some individuals when visiting or going on vacation to Paris, as a result of extreme shock at discovering that Paris is not as beautiful as they expected.
pairing: Â kim taehyung x female reader | featuring ex husband!namjoon.
genre: strangers to lovers au, romance, smut (18+), angst, one shot, soulmate au, fake dating au, (too much) fluff.
word count: 20k.Â
content warnings: mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, a little (lot of) love making, heavy angst, extreme (cheesy) romanticism, flirty banter, reader and taehyung are whipped hopeless romantic fools, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, bratty!reader, beret!taehyung, bde!taehyung (aka mentions of the taeconda), orgasm control/denial, oral (f. receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, creampie, lots of french. i think thatâs about it. forgive me lord, for i have sinned.
author note: i didnât think iâll get anywhere near satisfied with paris syndrome, but i still have to thank my friends (especially @exoticarmyofcrownsâ) for being so patient with me as i figured out the billion ways the plotline could develop. admittedly, i still feel like it could be lengthier, but 20k is enough of a squeeze for a one shot. i will not apologize for the extra angst and fluff sprinkled into this, partly because this was supposed to be a self-indulgent pwp⊠and well⊠look at what it has turned into.Â
Another giddy young couple passes you by â youâve lost count of how many of them are holding hands, taking pictures of one another and losing polaroids on the streets. The thought of love nearly stings, bringing a pressure to your chest.Â
The city of love wasnât beautiful â it was quiet, tear-jerkingly lonely. The clouds that gathered in the sky were all the wrong shades of gray as raindrops threatened to fall. Nobody seemed to mind, because they were all wearing rose-colored glasses, kissing under the trees with flowers in hand and La Vie en Rose in mind.Â
You hated Paris. Wait, no â you hated yourself.
Okay, now you were willing to admit that embarking on a journey to the city of love all alone after a divorce gone wrong was not, by far, your best life changing decision. Still, it was a life changing one because here you were â at the stupid Eiffel Tower with a dead phone and no French speaking skills, apart from the poorly pronounced âmerciâ you picked up from your beat up French dictionary, the word thrown at every single passerby that helped you.Â
It was starting to rain. Teardrops not so gently falling upon your skin as you found the nearest cafĂ© to shield yourself from the downpour, with your jacket above your head. You kept telling yourself the rain would eventually subside and you would go back to the hotel as if nothing had happened. Youâd order an omelette du fromage â the only thing you knew how to order â and maybe sip some champagne as you cried over the disappointment that Paris was.
Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?
