#v angst

Characters: Taehyung (x reader) Words: 415

It was an empty promise. He knew that. Yet, in that station is where he stands. Everyday, on the same date she left, six times in total, counting how many years it has been. He prays with his hands inside his pocket that one of the people that rush out of the train would be her. He misses the eyes that would crinkle whenever they both laugh at her stupid jokes. The words echo in his mind like a broken alarm. 

“I’ll be back.” 

Other than the people around him keep scolding him to move on, he has no reason to let go of that promise. He has always believed that she would never go back on her words. He had stopped whining about how much he misses her when his world got murky. The reality of her absence keeps sinking deeper in his realization. 

Today marks the seventh year since she left. He promised himself to finally get a grip and move on from his immature, adolescent love. He braces himself for another disappointment, but years waiting and uncertainty has left him suffocated and jaded. Empty love is the only thing that’s left. He knows that, but everytime he convinces himself that he’s ready, a sharp pain in his chest turns into a hammer that nails his feet to the ground.

The horn blares and soon the heavy gust of wind hits him, he can’t help the force pushing him back. He feels that there is something in the air today. He tastes it on his tongue when his mouth drops open when he exhales a little bit of breath he was holding. It was a familiar taste of parting and farewell. A rush of emotions swirls in his chest as it’s getting too uncomfortable to bear. 

“It won’t happen.”

“I should just go.”

“Before another disappointment.”

His body acts faster than his mind could. With home as his final destination in mind, his feet subconsciously brings him closer to the exit before all the passengers rush out the train. What he thought was the smell of farewell turns out to be the opposite: a reunion. It all clicks in his brain when it immediately recognizes the figure that’s staring right back into his eyes. They no longer hold the same anguish he could never forget the day she slips out of his fingers. The hustle and bustle drowns out the voice she lets out of her mouth, but he can always tell.

Here is a little excerpt of what I have in my drafts, consider this as a teaser or a drabble with an open ending, if you will. But hopefully, I will finish it, because Haikyuu and Taehyung are the loves of my life. (I don't know shit bout volleyball irl). Enjoy!

Character: Kim Taehyung (x reader) Words: 455 Genre: slice of life, sporty (is this even a genre), future angst Summary: Taehyung's passion for volleyball is really something to admire. But something broke his heart, and it forever sticks to him and his volleyball.

Author: F0xface3

Rating/Warning: General

Chapter Count: 3/3

Description: Chrissy meets Wayne for the first time.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: slight profanity, cheating

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, father! au, husband! au

m a s t e r l i s t

You were filled with pride as you and your husband Taehyung applauded for your kids after their school choir concert was over. Your five year old daughter Soomi and her twin brother Jaemin had been working so hard practicing every day for their choir concert and tonight they did awesome and you felt very proud as a mom and so did Taehyung. Your beautiful kids ran up to you and you both had carried them and engulfed them in a big hug.

“We’re so proud of you! Both of you were amazing!” you congratulated.

“Yeah, you both are even better at singing than me,” Taehyung added and the kids giggled.

“Can we go out for pizza?” your Soomi asked, looking up at you with her big puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, can we?” Jaemin added. You looked at Taehyung and he was also smiling widely, waiting for you to approve so he could get to eat pizza. Sometimes it felt like he was one of your kids instead of your husband.

“Okay fine, you kids earned it,” you gave in.

“YAY!!!” the three of them shouted in unison. You laughed at their cuteness. Before stepping into the car, Taehyung held open the door for you and gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, babe,” he said while still smiling widely.

The rest of the time was spent with the four of you having fun together as a family. You loved your husband so much and your kids just as much if not more. You loved your family and couldn’t have asked for a better one. You were completely satisfied with your life.

pairing. taehyung x female! reader

genre/prompt. misunderstandings, marriage! au, angst

word count. 1.2k

content.  none questionable, maybe hinted cheating? but it’s a misunderstanding so not entirely

synopsis. You trusted him with your heart, but after seeing him with another, could you again?

writer’s note. written for the BTS Ghostie Writers Net’s writing bingo! It’s not based off the song of the same name but I did listen to it while writing. This is my last square in the row I chose :) Everything flowed out surprisingly quickly for this one. Like it took one hour at most, but I’m proud of it. 

taehyung x reader // angst

✰

It was the evening of Valentine’s Day, and, though you now had someone to share the occasion with, it didn’t feel much different. You were presently waiting for Taehyung to meet you at the cinema. It was extremely busy, as you had expected, so you had planned with Tae to arrive earlier to buy the tickets. However, he was late so you just went ahead and bought them yourself. The movie had already started yet you were still waiting for him.

Tae: mianhae! I’m sorry! practice ran later than I thought. ijae kanda! I’m leaving now, promise..

Tae: jinjja mianhae.. I’m really sorry..

You looked up from your phone and sighed. You couldn’t help but notice the couples completely in their own worlds, holding hands as they walked by or whispering to each other as they waited in line, to you an open display of affection. Before you had decided to start dating Taehyung, it was something you noticed everywhere you went. It was more complex than just being envious, of not being lonely. You actually found it endearing, seeing people wrapped up in each others’ existence, and it made you happy that they were happy. But it was inevitable that it contrasted the empty space beside you, the one you could sense deep inside you, that longed for the other half you were convinced you were missing.

You wanted someone to envelop your very being, becoming a comfort to all of who you were everywhere you went, whether they were with you or not.

However, it was as if he were hesitant, unwilling to be open enough so that you could become that for each other.

Even though you found the person you wanted to be with, you were still left to observe passerby’s and wishing you had what they did.

You were still lonely.

You were still empty, needing to be filled with the love of someone you were willing to do the same for.

At first you didn’t see him, you’re attention distant. But then your focus became more precise, honing in on Taehyung who was now approaching you. He waved with both hands and greeted you with a sincere smile. When you stood up, still anxious because of how you were feeling, he could tell by the look on your face you were becoming distant. Your entire demeanor was unstable. Yet you took him in, the way his smile faltered as if he allowed himself to show the realization he had messed up a little bit, through the continuing little things all these past few weeks, the one he had already realized earlier as he was committing the action.

Little strands of his hair were still sticking up from being ruffled as he ran over to where you were sitting. They were so fine that they moved like threads of satin. You could even see flakes of snow in them, which would easily slide off if you just brushed them away with your hand. It was really hard to push the thought away.

“Eo, wasseo? You came,” you greeted softly, almost as if you were in trouble.

Taehyung looked down, reaching one hand into the pocket of his soft almost fuzzy oversized dark green coat, everything about it making you want to wrap your arms around his waist. He then decided to put his other hand in the other pocket, taking neither one out of their resting places.

He looked back up to you and faintly smiled a weak smile that faltered as soon as it mustered the strength to appear. It was too fearful of even becoming apologetic. “Eung, mian,” Tae said, mimicking your softness and shortness of words. He looked up while you looked down.

“What time is it?” He asked a bit hurriedly after taking a moment to think, “We can go in right now. We couldn’t have missed much, right?”

You looked him in the eye, “They’ve probably stopped selling tickets by now.” Unsure as to whether you weren’t going to tell him you had the tickets in your hand for him-because then he would know you were expecting him to be this late- or for yourself, you became frustrated, crumpling them in your fist and shoving both hands in your pockets.

His eyes flitted to your hand. He became quiet, staring at the ghost of it. Apprehensively, he said, “We could wait-”

“Tae, how about…” you started, “…you just walk me home?” Something just short of a flinch flashed across his face, and he dejectedly complied to your wishes.

⋆

As you opened your door, Tae stood behind you, almost as if he were sulking. You turned around, grasping the edge of your door, almost about to say something.

He just stood there in your doorway, the only light from the apartment hallway dimly illuminating him. His head was bowed. But before you could even process his demeanor, he tugged at the edge of your coat pleadingly.

“Mianhada,” Tae told you, apologizing, the heaviness of his words telling you he knew what he’d been doing.

He let go, but then his hand stopped, hesitating. Gently, he slid his arms around you, pulling you to him before you could object. He had weaved himself around you in a sort of embrace that made the both of you vulnerable.

Tae’s voice got deep and sullen, “I haven’t been.. meaning to treat you like this. I care about you. I’ve just been afraid-” You could feel him tense against you, as he was enveloping you, blocking any of the light that would have lit up your apartment through the open door. His voice, his body, began pleading, like every fiber in his being was aching to express how he felt in this moment, almost as if he would crack, if that meant his feelings would be able to spill out before you.

“I was afraid of letting you mean more to me.. then my brothers, my career, my dreams,” Tae explained, more through the rhythm of his voice rather than his words, as if he were composing a song.

In this moment you understood, that he needed to be held, to be embraced, so he could be comforted and could open himself and could understand you like you wanted him to. Love was about sacrifice, and you both were learning that.

Suddenly, he had become a child that needed reassurance just as you had.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he leaned down, his head in the crook of your neck. The fine hairs that your fingers were burning to run themselves through rubbed against your cheek, and you suddenly felt how close Tae had allowed you to come to him, and how close you had allowed him to come to you. It happened without a second thought, naturally, because both your hearts had been in the same place for each other, only now were they beginning to meet.

“I can’t do it without you, Y/N. Jaebal.. Please..” he begged, “Please, just trust me.”

“Harsu itji? You can, can’t you?”

“Gwaenchana. It’s okay,” you assured him through a whisper. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

☾

——————————————————————————————————

☽

A/N: kind of wanted to turn this into a short story, but somehow it just became a small little one-shot. also kind of feel conflicted about some things in this but ehhhhhhh, ya know. I might come back to it, clean it up and make it longer.

Addiction. In more ways than one.

He was going to start this year off right. Truly, he was. That was his plan, that’s what he told himself as he took three Benadryl to force his unwilling body to go to sleep at three am. He’d woken up sick (he always does after taking Benadryl, he might be intolerant of it. He doesn’t really care) and barely able to get out of bed, barely able to drag himself out of the dirty bedsheets.

When he did, his vacant expression staring blankly back at him from the cracked mirror in the bathroom, he decided that he already failed. His reflection made him want to throw up, so he slunk back into his room and rummaged around until he found a small packet of weed tossed haphazardly under a pile of soiled laundry.

He rolled a blunt, smoked it down to the nub, forced himself into the shower where he fought an intense war against invisible, giant rubber ducks which caused him to miss the entirety of his first class.

Unbothered, Kim Taehyung plopped down on the first chair he saw, deep in the back of the classroom. He barely raised his hand when his name was called, didn’t even look at the syllabus that was passed back to him. The man was thoroughly zoned out, staring unblinkingly at the back of some poor kid’s head. He was on the brink of falling asleep when someone tapped his shoulder. He ignored it the first time, and the second, but by the third, his nonchalance was turning into annoyance.

He rolled his neck over to his left side, head propped up on one hand.

The person in question was a girl who looked like she put much too much effort into her appearance today, some remnant of the juvenile desire to give a good impression on the first day remaining in her system.

“Excuse me,” she said.

He just looked at her, disinterested.

“You’re supposed to pass the papers this way. I need mine,”

Taehyung simply leaned against the back of his chair, gesturing for the girl to take the small stack.

She didn’t sit next to him again and he didn’t care, some days not even showing up. Those days are the bad ones, where his self-loathing was so suffocating he could barely breathe, thoughts so loud he couldn’t hear his own heartbeat.

Taehyung wasn’t sure he’d even be able to tell if the shriveled organ stopped beating altogether.

He was pulled aside one day when he gathered enough willpower to leave his house. The teacher gave a long speech that boiled down to ‘You’re going to flunk out if you don’t pass this class’. He pretended to care (poorly) and the teacher gave him a slip of yellow paper. He was supposed to report to the school library for tutoring every Tuesday and Thursday.

He ignored it, tutoring not on his list of things he wanted to put effort into. Instead, he crashed on the friend of a friend’s couch, snorting lines of cocaine off of empty pizza boxes and drinking beer that tasted like piss.

Tae was taken by surprise when he’d been violently dragged into an empty room by some girl one Friday afternoon.

“Look, doll, if you’re looking for a hookup, you’re not my type, sorry,” he said, giving the girl a once over.

That was a lie. The girl in question was very pretty indeed, and he certainly wouldn’t mind wasting away with her for a few hours. But the urge to go smoke something was stronger than any boner he could pop at the moment.

The girl simply gave him a disgusted look.

“I’m YN,”

It’s obvious that Taehyung had no idea who she was.

“Your tutor. You’re supposed to meet me twice a week. You’ve been bailing for the last three weeks,”

Taehyung sighed then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Couldn’t be bothered,”

“Truthfully, I don’t care. What I do care about is the fact that these are supposed to be my volunteer hours for the semester. So I need you to stay here and at least pretend to care about your future,”

Taehyung’s face scrunched up.

“You think you’re better than me, huh?”

“Than you? The boy who comes to class half the time and when he does, he always smells like pot? The guy whose average is .2 points away from flunking? Oh, no. Of course not,”

The man rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

“Just stay at least this once, huh. So I can at least say I tried,”

“That sounds like you’re asking me for a favor,”

“I’ll buy you a cheeseburger,”

“Deal,” Taehyung agreed, always in the mood for food, “But we’re doing this outside. I need a smoke and I don’t feel like setting off the alarms again,”

Outside, the girl stood at least twenty feet away from him, reading something from the textbook.

“You’re too far away from me for this to be even slightly helpful,” He said, inhaling his second cigarette.

“I’m trying not to throw up being this close. I’m not moving even an inch,”

Groaning, he stomped out the light and moved over to her, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench she lurked next to.

“You still smell disgusting,”

“I can leave at any time,”

“Fine,”

And so the tradition began. At first, Taehyung only went to the sessions because YN always bought them food afterward, but slowly, as the weeks passed by, he showed because the sound of her voice made the noise in his head quiet down.

He found himself with half completed assignments on his lap as his thoughts flicked over to the tangent she went off on about a certain teacher who always cheated everyone out of at least five points on every test, the way her face screwed up in that cute way that was nearly as addictive as the shit in his veins.

It was November when he confessed, only to have his heart broken as she smiled apologetically at him, explaining that his infinity for chasing various highs was a no go for her, but they could remain friends.

Friends.

He nearly overdosed on some unmarked pills he’d been given by a friend of a friend and YN was the only one who came to visit him. It was her crying that woke him up only to be scolded from there to high heaven.

He’d felt guilty, more emotion flooding through him than he could remember in a long time. He hated himself, yes, but she didn’t. Maybe that was enough.

It was for a while. The outings the two of them said were between friends but weren’t. The feel of her skin against his after a particularly long day, silence more comforting than any sound he’d ever heard.

She let him kiss her once, after a day where he’d been particularly optimistic, talking about futures and houses and adventures the two of them would go on.

There were bad days as well. When she took him to meet her parents (”Mom, Dad, this is my friend Taehyung,”) and he could practically feel the disapproval coming off of the couple in disappointed, judgemental waves.

It was that day the two of them fought for the first time, Taehyung upset for the way YN let him be pushed around and picked at, only for her to retaliate and say he shouldn’t have given them something to pick at.

She was a hair’s breadth away from calling him useless and they both knew it.

He took his first hit of heroin that night, alone in the apartment he hated, his bathroom mirror completely shattered in a fit of self-loathing fueled fury.

She apologized a week later when Taehyung could be mistaken for a ghost, a shell of a human being with eyes sunken in and skin without color. She let him hold her hand that day. He gripped it tighter every time he heard whispers of her deserving better, the words settling into his heart.

Another fight, this time after he promised he’d quit cocaine. He did quit it, as long as she was with him. But nights were lonely and he couldn’t overcome the desire for some sort of comfort. What other choice did he have, when she wasn’t around?

She was so disappointed when she found out and that hurt more than anything. He would have preferred if she shouted at him, called him pathetic or a waste of life. But instead, she sighed like the whole world rested on her shoulders and left, refusing to pick up his calls.

It was meth the next time. He vaguely wondered what would kill him first, the drugs or the heartbreak.

She pretended she didn’t know him when he’d rung her doorbell at one in the morning, pounding the door and screaming apologies, begging, pleading for her to let him in. He was empty on the inside where the warmth of a spirit was supposed to exist. He guessed his was dead. All he wanted was for her to hold him. He slept on her porch in the middle of winter.

She’d had a long week, Finals and stress and God, she missed Taehyung. It was so easy to nearly cave every time she caught him staring at her, eyes holding more sadness than any one person should ever have to have. She pretended not to notice the way he followed her from a distance, making sure she got home safely when her classes ran late into the night.

She couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why not just throw caution to the wind and jump into his frail arms like they’re made of steel? It was a feeble attempt to keep her heart from the inevitable shattering she knew he’d cause her.

It didn’t matter. She walked into the cloud he always hid behind and took him into her arms, silent tears cascading down her cheeks.

Her heart was already broken.

There were better days. When the two of them could pretend everything was alright, where they strolled through parks and took photos and smiled like everyone else.

But then there were worse days. When fights about rehab would turn into screaming matches. She threw a vase at him once and the glass shattered beneath his bare feet. He didn’t feel the pain when he stepped through it.

And then . . .

Then came the day where a friend of a friend was over, where the smoke in the kitchen was too thick to see through, when the laughter was closer to hysteria.

 YN was there. She wanted to leave as soon as she saw who was at Taehyung’s door. 

He persuaded her not to. To stay. He assured her that he’d be gone after just a few rounds of whatever he brought.

She tried to persuade him not to get in the car with poison in his veins after Taehyung had discovered he’d run out of beer. He wouldn’t listen to her, the high giving him inflated confidence in his abilities. Who cared if he could barely stand up straight? She begged him not to go out and felt embarrassment flood him when the friend of a friend laughed, teased him about being whipped.

He was, entirely, but his delirious ego couldn’t stand the insult. (Was it an insult?)

Taehyung slapped her when she tried to take the keys, shoved her out of the way when she offered to drive instead. He said nothing when she climbed into the passenger seat, gently cradling her stinging cheek.

He found out later, once he woke up from the two-month-long coma the accident put him in, that she hadn’t died instantly when Taehyung drove ninety miles an hour headfirst off of a cliff. He found out that she’d suffocated slowly, painfully over the course of however many hours as she struggled against broken ribs, her lungs barely inflating. She was grey when they found her, he was told. Her legs had been caught up in the remnants of the car door, mangled beyond belief, but she wouldn’t have felt that. 

Your body shuts down after a certain amount of pain.

And the baby. Oh, the baby. It was six months along, already so small and weak from all the poison her mother had been ingesting second hand that she died just seconds after her mother had.

It broke him when he discovered the small box YN had stashed away, a small onesie and an old pregnancy test resting inside. The letter was short and sweet, relaying the love of his life’s struggle to tell him, afraid of his reaction. YN barely showed, hiding any excess roundness with baggy clothing.

Taehyung hadn’t noticed.

He considered ending it all. Jumping off that same cliff to join the only people he ever loved, but he couldn’t. The image of the disappointed eyes YN gave him haunted him, keeping him from the edge.

How selfish could he possibly be? Kill the reason he believed he was still human, that maybe some goodness did exist, then throw himself away as well. He couldn’t do that to her. No, when he dies, he wants to be able to tell her about all the great things he’d done in his life, all the people he helped, all the lives he turned around.

“I’ll make you proud,” he whispers into the night air, eyes searching the starry sky desperately for some sign that she’s listening, “I promise,”

Somewhere, an angel watches over him, fondness in her soul.