#v bts

there are certain summers that never really leave you. most of them blur together after awhile— sunburnt afternoons, crowded streets, cheap liquor, music drifting through open windows.

they fade in the way old pictures do, slowly loosing their color until all they have to offer are soft outlines of memories.

but that summer in italy never faded.

you remembered everything about it. from the way the air smelled like cigarettes and espresso, and the golden light that lit up narrow alleyways every evening that made the city glow.

and the fountain in milan.

it was small, tucked into a quiet piazza you had wandered into by accident on your second day there. water spilled lazily over worn marble, catching the last light of the sunset. people passed through the square without really noticing it, but you remember thinking it felt like the kind of place meant for slowing down.

that's where you met him.

sitting on the edge of the fountain, letting the cool mist of the water hit your legs after walking all afternoon. the sky had turned that soft shade of orange and pink that only seems to exist for a few minutes before the night settles in.

you were tracing the lines of the fountain with your fingers when you felt it—that strange, unexplainable feeling of being watched. nothing uneasy... just aware.

when you looked up, he was standing on the other side of the fountain.

tall, quiet, hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. the fading sunlight caught in his fluffy black hair and softened the edges of his face, turning everything around him golden for a moment. he was in his early twenties like you, his features sharp and soft at the same time.

he didn't look like he was from here. you could tell in the way he moved through the square, pausing to take everything in—the buildings, the people, the fading light. like he was trying to memorize the moment.

he was looking straight at you. not in a quick, passing way like strangers usually do. he was really looking.

your eyes met across the fountain, and something your chest shifted so suddenly it almost startled you.

it was the strangest feeling—like recognition without explanation. like you had somehow arrived in the same moment from opposite ends of the world. he didn’t look away, and neither did you. something about the eye contact you exchanged made your breath catch so lightly you barely noticed it.

for a few seconds, the sounds of the piazza—the water, the laughter, the distant music drifting from somewhere down the street—seemed to fade into the background. there was just the quiet space between you. and the feeling, sharp and electric, that something had just begun.

at the time, you didn’t know his name. you didn’t know he was from south korea, or that you would only have a few weeks before the summer ended.

all you knew was that when he smiled at you—small, almost shy—something warm and unfamiliar spread through your chest.

the kind of feeling someone doesn't forget. the kind that makes you wonder, years later, how your life might have been different if you had looked away first. but neither of you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

august 2003

for a moment neither of you moved. the sky had deepened into that soft shade between sunset and evening, when everything in the city turns warm and dim.

then he did something small that made your heart jump. he let out a laugh. not loudly—just a soft, surprised laugh under his breath, like he had caught himself staring for too long.

he ran a hand through his hair and glanced away for a second before looking back at you again, a little sheepish. that's when he walked over.

you watched him circle around the fountain slowly, like he was giving himself time to decide whether he should actually come talk to you.

when he reached the side where you were sitting, he stopped a few feet away. “hi,” he said. his voice was gentle but deep, a mysterious accent curled around the word in a way that made it sound softer somehow.

“hi,” you answered.

for a second, he looked relieved that you replied. then he leaned back slightly against the stone edge of the fountain, close enough now that you could see the way the last light of the sunset caught in his eyes.

“you are… visiting?” he asked carefully.

you nodded. “yeah. from the states.”

something bright flickered across his face. “ah,” he said, smiling a little wider now. “america.”

there was a pause. not an awkward one exactly—just the kind that happens when two strangers are trying to figure each other out.

“and you?” you asked with a smile.

he hesitated for half a second. “i’m from south korea,” he said finally, tapping his chest lightly with his hand.

something about the way he said it made you smile. “wow,” you said softly. “that’s… far.”

he laughed again, this time with a little more ease. “yes,” he said. “very far.”

for a small moment, you both looked out at the water pouring over the fountain, the city around you beginning to glow with evening lights. then he glanced at you again, almost curious. “you like italy?” he asked.

you shrugged slightly. "i think i do now.”

he tilted his head. “now?”

you smiled without thinking. "yeah."

and for the first time since you'd started talking, he looked directly at you again in that same quiet way he had across the fountain. like he understood something unspoken between you, even though you had only just met.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sky had turned into a dark blue by the time you realized how long you'd been sitting there. somewhere down the street a musician had started playing a guitar, the music drifting through the warm night air.

he glanced at the sound, then back at you. “walk?” he asked, gesturing toward the street with a small, hopeful smile.

you hesitated for half a second. you had no idea where you were going. you barely knew this man—you'd only spoken a handful of sentences to each other. but somehow, it didn’t feel strange at all.

“okay,” you agreed. his smile widened, quick and bright.

you fell into step beside each other, leaving the quiet piazza behind as you wandered deeper into the city.

small restaurants spilled light and conversation onto the sidewalks, people lingering at outdoor tables with glasses of wine. scooters hummed past you every few minutes while the smell of fresh bread drifted through the air from somewhere nearby.

every so often he would point something out. “beautiful,” he said once, nodding toward an old building lit up against the dark sky. his english was good, but his unfamiliarity with speaking out loud to an american coated his sentences with shyness and nerves.

“what’s your name?” you asked after a while.

he looked at you, a little surprised, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him yet. "taehyung," he said.

you repeated it somewhat terribly at first, earning you a soft laugh from him. his laugh lit a fire inside your stomach and you tried again, cheeks red until you got it right.

"yours?" he asked with a smile, coming down from your shared fit of laughter.

"y/n," you replied.

"y/n..." he repeated with hesitation, accent swirling over the pronunciation. "pretty. never heard before."

you felt your face get hot. you kept walking like that—talking in slow sentences, laughing when one of you misunderstood the other. sometimes, there were long pauses when neither of you knew what to say next, but they never felt uncomfortable.

eventually, you turned a corner and found yourselves in front of a small bar tucked between two old buildings. music poured out through the open doors—something upbeat and loud, people laughing inside. he stopped walking.

“you like… drink?” he asked.

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re asking if I like drinking?”

he grinned, clearly pleased he’d gotten the sentence right. “yes.”

"yeah," you laughed. "i like drinking."

inside, the bar the air was warm and loud, filled with conversation and music. someone was clapping along to the song playing through the speakers, and a group of people near the counter were dancing in the tiny space between tables.

you squeezed in at the bar together, shoulder to shoulder. he ordered for you both in careful, but pristine italian. you were undoubtedly impressed. you just met this man and he had already spoken three different languages.

when the drinks came, he lifted his glass toward you. “to…” he paused, thinking hard. “to meeting,” he finished with a grin.

you smiled and tapped your glass lightly against his. "to meeting.”

the music got louder, people started dancing closer to you, and before you knew it you two were laughing like you'd known each other longer than just a couple hours.

"you ever been to the states?" you asked, to which he shook his head.

"i want to go sometime," he replied, a dreamy smile on his face.

at some point while you were almost done with your drink, he grabbed your hand to pull you toward the small open space where people were dancing. it happened so naturally that you barely had time to act. "come," he said, a large, cheeky smile plastered across his face.

"i don't know this song," you laughed.

"that's okay," he said, his hand was still wrapped around yours, warm and steady. when you reached the middle of the small crowd, he let go just long enough to turn and face you.

for a second, you both hesitated. then he placed one hand lightly at your waist. the touch was careful at first, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. you didn’t.

the music shifted into something slower, softer. he moved a little closer. not enough to startle you, but just enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your dress.

“like this?” he asked quietly, glancing down at both your shoes.

you nodded. "like this.”

you started moving together slowly, almost instinctively. neither of you were dancing in any structured way--you were just swaying gently to the music, steps small and unhurried. but it felt strangely easy, like you had done this before.

his hand rested at the small of your back now, steady and warm. your hand had found its way to his shoulder without you even realizing it, and your fingers were still loosely intertwined.

every so often, he would look down to make sure he wasn’t stepping on your feet. every time he looked back up, you caught him watching you again, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

all you could really focus on was the quiet rhythm of the music and the way he was looking at you—soft, curious, like he was trying to memorize it.

“you dance… good,” he said eventually, a little breathless.

you laughed. “i’m barely dancing.”

he smiled. “still good.”

he spun you once when the music picked up again, laughing when you nearly lost your balance. his grip on you tightened just slightly, steadying you before pulling you back toward him.

you ended up closer than before. close enough that you could see the tiny crease in his eyebrow when he smiled. close enough that the rest of the room seemed to disappear entirely. it was the kind of quiet closeness you only get after knowing someone for years.

but you had only met a few hours ago.

he must have felt it too, because his expression softened in that same thoughtful way you had noticed earlier by the fountain. neither of you spoke, just kept moving slowly with the music, his hand still resting at your back, fingers still loosely tangled together.

and when you think about that night, you realized that was the moment everything changed. not the first glance across the fountain. not the walk through the city.

it was standing there in that crowded little bar, swaying to music neither of you knew, feeling like somehow you had stepped into a version of time where you had always known each other.

and maybe, for that one summer, you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you two stepped outside, the city had finally come to a quiet and the summer air felt cooler now, the heat of the day fading from the stone streets.

the music from the bar behind you spilled out in muffled waves, but everything else felt still. the two of you just stood there. taehyung looked at you like he had something to say. instead, he just smiled.

"walk more?" he asked.

you nodded. "i'm not ready for this night to end yet."

something in his expression softened at that. "me too."

you both started down the street together again, slower this time. the city at night felt different—quieter, more intimate. most of the restaurants had dimmed their lights, and couples lingered at the last few outdoor tables with half-finished glasses of wine.

your shoulders brushed occasionally as you walked, neither of you moving away. after a while he asked, “you travel alone?”

“yeah,” you admitted. something you wouldn’t normally do to a man you just met. “just this summer.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “i'm here to visit,” he said. “my cousin lives here.”

“and after?”

“i go back to korea.” there was something about the way he said it that made the reality of it settle quietly between both of you. korea. the word felt impossibly far away. you walked farther in silence.

eventually you ended up in another small square, one right in front of your hotel. a few dim streetlights cast soft yellow circles across the cobblestones.

you sat down on the low stone edge of a planter, stretching your legs slightly after all the walking. he stood in front of you for a moment, height almost blocking your vision before sitting beside you. close. close enough that your knees brushed.

“your name,” he said suddenly, looking at you again. “say it again?”

you told him again as he repeated it slowly this time, careful with every syllable. the way it sounded in his voice made something warm spread through your chest.

“you say mine better now,” he said with a small smile.

“i practiced,” you teased.

he laughed. something about the way he laughed tugged at your heartstrings. it was different. it was authentic— unashamed. it was different from the boys back home who tried so hard to act nonchalant. he laughed like every word you said was overly enjoyable to him. it made you giggle.

the quiet between you felt heavier now, charged with something neither of you had quite acknowledged yet.

when you turned your head, you realized he was already looking at you. brown eyes boring into yours like he had been trying to decide something. your breath caught slightly.

you were close enough now that you could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. close enough that if either of you leaned forward even a little...

neither of you moved. but the space between you felt electric. it was almost making you dizzy.

his eyes dropped briefly to your lips before lifting again. a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “i think,” he said slowly, searching for the words, “maybe… tonight was very good.”

you laughed softly. "yeah. i think so too."

for a second longer you stayed there like that—too close, the air between you thick with the kind of tension that makes your heart beat louder than usual.

and then he leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake the moment away. “tomorrow,” he said after a pause, looking at me again. “you're free?”

your heart skipped. “yeah."

he smiled again. and somehow the promise of seeing him again tomorrow felt even more exciting than if you had kissed right then.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you woke up the next morning still thinking about him.

for a moment you thought maybe the night before had felt bigger in my memory than it really was. maybe it was a dream. because sometimes, things that happen while on vacation feel more intense than they actually are.

but then, you checked the small slip of paper sitting on the table beside your bed. his handwriting was careful, a little uneven in places.

a time and a place. with his name again, just in case you forgot how to spell it. you smiled to yourself without realizing you were doing so.

when you arrived at the piazza that afternoon, he was already there.

leaning against the edge of the fountain like he had been the night before, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching the people move through the square. but the moment he spotted you, his whole face brightened. “hi,” he said.

“hi," you smiled.

for a second, you both just stood there smiling at each other like you had forgotten how to start a normal conversation. then he said, almost casually, “you want to see something beautiful today?”

you laughed. "that sounds mysterious.”

“trust me,” he said. and for some reason, you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train ride was short, but the whole time, taehyung kept glancing out the window like he was waiting for a moment he recognized. when you finally stepped off at the small station, the air felt different.

you walked down a narrow street lined with pale buildings and flower boxes until suddenly the road opened up. and there it was.

the one and only, lake como stretched out in front of you like glass, greenery and flowers blooming along the edges of the glittery water that reflected the pale blue sky and the mountains rising around it.

you stopped walking without realizing it. “oh my god," you exhaled softly.

he watched your reaction more than the view in front of you two. “you like it?”

“i love it,” you gushed. “i didn't think i'd get to see it.”

“first time?”

“yeah.”

he smiled, looking pleased with himself. “good.”

you wandered along the edge of the lake for a while, past small docks and quiet cafés where people sat drinking wine in the afternoon sun. the whole place felt peaceful in a way the city never was.

eventually, you both found a quiet stretch of stone steps leading down to the water.

you sat there side by side, your feet just a few inches above the gentle ripples of the bright blue lake. the mountains reflected in the water, boats drifting slowly in the distance, the warm breeze moving softly through the trees.

it felt like time had slowed down, like it barely existed.

“you travel a lot?” he asked after a while.

“not really,” you said. “this is the first time I’ve done something like this.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “good choice.”

"yeah." you giggled. "i think so too."

you turned to look at him and realized he was already watching you. his eyes carefully scanning your expression, the kind of look that makes you suddenly aware of how close someone is sitting. your heart started beating a little faster.

“you're quiet today,” he said.

“i'm just... taking it all in.”

“the lake?” he asked.

you smiled. “partly.”

something about that made him laugh softly, the sound lingering in the air before he shifted closer. you both held the eye contact as he carefully tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear— away from your face, like he needed to see every inch of it. your breath caught and this time, he noticed.

"can i?" he asked quietly. you nodded before he could even finish the sentence, and the space between you closed.

the kiss was soft at first, like you were both trying to make sure the moment was real. nonetheless, it sent sparks throughout both of your bodies, igniting something between you two. suddenly, it felt like this was meant to happen.

you both melted into the kiss as his hand cupped your cheek lightly while yours curved instinctively into the front of his shirt.

the world around you seemed to go silent-- the lake, the distant chatter, the gentle waves of the water. it felt like it all disappeared. like you were the only two people there.

when you finally pulled apart, you both laughed a little, slightly breathless. “well,” you said, catching your breath.

“well,” he echoed, looking out across the lake again. he shook his head with a small smile. “now this place... even more beautiful.”

you nudged his shoulder. “you're cheesy.”

“a little only,” he replied.

but when he glanced back at you again, the look in his eyes was softer than before. like something between you was blooming.

and sitting there beside him with the sun reflecting off the water, you realized something you probably should have been more careful about.

you didn’t want this day to end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the idea to rent the boat had been his. you hadn’t even noticed the small dock until he pointed to it.

“let's go?” he asked, nodding toward the little motorboats tied along the water’s edge before gently taking a hold of your hand.

“are we allowed to just… take one?” you asked.

he laughed loudly. “we rent.”

“oh. right.”

a few minutes later, you were gliding slowly out across lake como, the water stretching endlessly around you while the small towns along the shore grew smaller in the distance.

you sat at the front of the boat, one hand trailing just above the surface of the lake. the water sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and the mountains surrounding you looked unreal.

“you’re smiling,” he commented from behind you.

you turned around. “i can’t help it. this is… ridiculous.”

“ridiculous?”

“in the best way,” you said. “yesterday, i was wandering around alone in the city. today, i'm on a boat on lake como with someone i met at a fountain.”

he grinned. “life is... a surprise.”

“that’s one way to put it.”

the boat drifted farther out toward the middle of the lake before he slowed the motor. the quiet out here felt different from the city. no traffic, no crowds— just the gentle sound of the water brushing against the sides of the boat and the distant hum of birds somewhere along the mountains.

by the time the sun started lowering behind the peaks, the whole lake had turned golden, kissed with pinks and oranges. you leaned back against the side of the boat, watching the light ripple across the water.

“it’s beautiful,” you said softly. he nodded with a smile.

then after a moment he asked, “why travel alone?”

you glanced at him. "why not?”

he smiled faintly. “not an answer.”

you laughed. "fair.” for a second, you didn't know how honest you wanted to be. but the quiet of the lake and the comfort that beamed off of him made it feel easier.

“i guess i just… needed something different,” you exhaled. “life at home was starting to feel predictable.”

he tilted his head slightly. “you run away?”

“maybe a little,” you admitted.

“what from?”

you shrugged. “nothing dramatic. just the feeling that i was doing everything i was supposed to do without actually enjoying any of it.”

he watched you carefully while you spoke.

“school. work. plans. it's so repetitive," you sighed.

“and now?”

you gestured around the two of you. “now, I’m sitting in the middle of a lake in italy with a man i met yesterday.”

that made him laugh quietly. "better plan."

"much better."

“what about you?” you asked. “why are you here?”

he leaned back against the seat, staring out across the water. "my aunt and cousin,” he said. “they said i should visit.”

“and you just decide to spend time with me instead?”

he shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips, struggling to fight another laugh. “why not?"

“you're very spontaneous.”

“maybe.”

you studied him for a moment. “you seem like someone who doesn’t do things halfway.”

that made him glance back at you. “what does that mean?”

“i don’t know,” you said. “you just seem… intense.”

he laughed again. “intense?”

"a little."

he didn't deny it. the boat rocked gently beneath you as the sun dipped lower. eventually he moved closer, sitting beside you at the front, shoulders brushing.

“you're happy you came here?” he asked quietly.

you turned to him. “very.”

his gaze lingered on yours for a second longer than usual. then his large hand found yours again, fingers sliding between yours naturally, like they had done it a hundred times before. your heart thumped through your chest as heat creeped up your face.

the lake had grown darker now, the last light of sunset reflecting across the water in soft streaks. you both didn't talk for some time, the quiet felt full of something unspoken.

“you know,” he said softly, “i think maybe... best day of my trip.”

your heart fluttered slightly. "me too."

then, almost absentmindedly, his thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand. the gesture was small. but the warmth of it was enough to send a wave of electricity through you.

the sky deepened into purple and gold around you as the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains.

and sitting there in the fading light on the quiet water of lake como, you had the strange feeling that you were living inside a moment you would remember for the rest of your life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the restaurant he chose sat right along the edge of the water.

from the terrace, you could still see the darkening outline of the mountains around the lake, the reflections stretching across the dark water like soft shadows. lanterns hung above the outdoor tables, casting warm golden light over the small crowd of people eating and talking quietly.

when the waiter led the both of you to your table, you realized the lake was only a few feet away. “this place is beautiful,” you said.

he pulled your chair out before you took a seat. he went to take a seat across from you, smiling. “not as beautiful.”

you looked up at him. “what?”

he shrugged a little, suddenly looking almost shy. “you.”

your face warmed immediately. “you're just saying that.”

he shook his head, resting his elbows lightly on the table. “no." his voice almost stern. "i thought it yesterday too.”

for a moment, neither of you looked away, eye colors practically melting into one another. the candle between you flickered softly in the breeze, but everything else felt strangely still.

eventually, you laughed nervously and picked up your menu. “you’re distracting me.”

he grinned. “good.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

dinner stretched on longer than it should have. partly because the food was good, but mostly because neither of you wanted to stop talking. or looking at each other. sometimes, you'd pause mid-conversation and realize you were both just staring.

“you do that a lot,” you teased at one point.

“what?”

“look at me like that.”

he tilted his head slightly. “like what?”

“like you’re trying to figure something out.”

he thought about it for a second. “maybe i am.”

“and what have you figured out so far?”

he leaned back in his chair, studying you again with that thoughtful expression. “that... i like you,” he said simply.

the flat honesty of it caught you off guard, but your heart skipped a beat. "you only met me yesterday."

"yes," he agreed.

"and you already decided that?"

he smiled. "you made it easy to decide."

you tried to laugh it off, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it difficult. the waiter brought another bottle of wine, and the conversation drifted to lighter things—music, travel, stories from home.

but the feeling between you never really faded. every time your hands brushed reaching for the same glass or plate, the touch lingered a second too long. the sparks traveled through your bodies.

every time your eyes met, neither of you looked away first.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you two got off the train, the evening air of the summer had finally cooled and the town grew quiet.

the walk back was different from the one earlier that day. this time, the silence stretched, but the distance between you two was almost closed entirely. your hands found each others immediately as you stepped onto the street.

after walking for awhile without speaking, he stopped suddenly. you turned to him. "what's wrong?"

"nothing." he said softly. but he didn't move. you two were standing close again, enough that you could feel his warmth and smell his cologne against the cold, night air.

“you're quiet,” you said.

“i’m thinking.”

“about what?”

he looked down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. “that if i don’t kiss you now, i might regret it.”

your breath caught and the moment stretched for half a second. you stepped closer and that was all it took. his hand slid to your waist as he pulled you toward him, and the kiss came suddenly—stronger than earlier, like all the tension from the entire day had finally snapped.

the world around you disappeared. like you and him were the only ones to exist in that moment. the empty street and the music that hummed quietly somewhere in the distance; it all faded into the background as the kiss deepened, slower but somehow more intense.

when you finally pulled apart, you were both a little breathless. he rested his forehead lightly against yours, laughing under his breath.

“i think,” he said softly, “this day was dangerous.”

you smiled. “why?”

his eyes poured into yours. “because now, i don’t want it to end.” and standing there in the warm summer night, you realized you didn’t want it to end either.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you reached your hotel, the streets were completely bare. the warm hum of the town had faded into something quieter—just the distant sound of water against the docks and the occasional echo of your footsteps down the street.

you slowed as you reached the entrance. the lantern above the door cast a soft golden light over the stone walls, and suddenly you became very aware of how close he was standing.

you turned, and for a moment, you both just looked at each other. the whole day seemed to settle between you two at once—the lake, the boat ride, the sunset, the dinner where neither of you could stop staring.

taehyung's hand brushed lightly against yours before his slim fingers closed around it. “you’re thinking,” he said softly.

“maybe.”

“about what?”

you laughed nervously, glancing toward the hotel entrance behind you. “that i should probably say goodnight.”

“probably,” he agreed. but neither of you moved. instead, he stepped a little closer. the small movement sent a quiet rush of warmth through your chest.

“you know,” he said, his voice lower now, “i’ve been trying to be very... polite tonight.”

“oh?” you said.

“yes.”

“and why is that?”

his thumb brushed slowly across the back of your hand. “if i wasn’t,” he said, “i would kiss you again.”

your breath caught. “you could have done that anyway.”

a slow smile appeared on his face. “good to know.”

the space between you disappeared almost instantly. his hand slid softly to your waist as he pulled you closer. when he kissed you this time, it felt deeper than before—slow and warm, like he had been thinking about doing it all evening.

after what felt like hours, you both pulled away, smiling as you each tried to catch your breath back. you turned and headed for the doors behind you while taehyung held it open for you.

you stepped into the empty, dimly lit hotel lobby without letting go of each other's hands. luckily, your room was only a short walk down the hallway. when you reached your door, you suddenly felt nervous again. he noticed. “you okay?” he asked softly.

you nodded, fumbling slightly with the key. “yeah.” the door clicked open. you stepped inside and he followed, closing it quietly behind him.

you both just stood there in the soft lamplight of the room, the same charged silence filling the space between you again. then, he stepped closer. his hand lifted gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face again, his fingers lingering for a second at your cheek.

“you’re beautiful,” he said quietly.

the way the words left his tongue with meaning made your heart race. before you could think of anything to say back, his hand slid to your waist again, drawing you closer to his chest.

taehyung kissed you once more that night, deeper this time. but it wasn't rushed at all, like he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. his touch was gentle, but there was something confident in the way he held you, like he already knew this was meant to be.

the room felt warmer suddenly. like the rest of the world had vanished somewhere beyond the window.

and for a moment, standing there in the soft light of your hotel room, the only thing that seemed real was the feeling of his hands around you and the quiet, undeniable pull between you.

your fingers clutched his shirt eagerly, pulling him closer to your height. he took it as a signal to deepen the kiss, one of his hands resting firmly at your hips while the other was lost in your hair. he was so close now that his nose brushed against yours while your lips continued to collide.

“i don't think i have ever wanted to kiss someone this much," he breathed as you pulled apart only briefly for air. you laughed softly, blush warming up your cheeks. "neither have i."

the sight made his heart skip, the sound of your laughter fading when he kissed you again, slower this time. "see?" he whispered against your lips. "you make it hard to behave."

you shyly giggled when suddenly, your back gently hit the wall as he kissed you again. your palms explored his hair, falling to his clothed chest and down his abdomen that felt like it was made out of steel. he grunted, smiling into the kiss before softly tugging your lower lip between his teeth.

you made a noise to which he hummed, effortlessly sliding his tongue into your mouth. you responded, attempting to fight his tongue off with yours before failing. you could almost moan as he hungrily explored your mouth. his hands slid lower down your body before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you two before disappearing with gravity.

"this is okay?" he asked softly, breathless.

you nodded, also trying to find your breath. "yes."

then, he slid his big palms below you before suddenly picking you up, legs straddling his waist. you yelped, caught off guard before erupting in laughter which earned a big smile from him. he kissed you again, his hands resting below your ass. the kiss didn't break as he softly put you down on the bed.

he hummed into the kiss. "you taste like wine."

you broke the kiss. "oh, shut up." your head tilted back in laughter, but taehyung saw it as an opportunity. he grabbed your thighs and slid you closer to him before pressing a soft kiss behind your ear.

then another one. "i mean it." his voice was deep as he placed another one. the kisses got lower and sloppier, becoming more wet and open-mouthed as he trailed down your neck before stopping at your collarbone where he started to suck at your skin lightly.

you moaned, unable to keep it in anymore and he noticeably sucked in a breath at the sound. you intertwined your fingers with his long ones before guiding them down to the hem of your top.

"are you sure?" he asked one last time, his fingers resting lazily at the bottom, tracing lightly against your stomach. before you could respond, one of his hands came up to your cheek. he gently guided your chin up to look at him fully.

"yes, taehyung. i'm sure," you said, eyes big and doe-eyed, looking right into his. he smiled, passion swirling between his pupils as he placed a light peck on your lips, his fingers curling into your top before you pulled it off.

taehyung didn't hesitate to openly admire your exposed upper body, his eyes scanning you with a hint of darkness as you grabbed him closer, engulfing him into another kiss. he was on top of you at this point, his large figure blocking your view as he kissed you with need, kissed you like he's been waiting for this his whole life.

his hands traveled across your body like it was his already, cupping your boobs and sliding his hand up and down your inner thighs. you were already a wet, whimpering mess underneath him as he inserted his knee between your legs, putting the slightest pressure on your clothed pussy.

you tugged at his shirt eagerly, manicured nails fumbling to get the buttons un-done. he laughed into the kiss before pulling away and finishing what you started, discarding the fabric somewhere in your room.

your jaw dropped. for a young man in his early twenties, you could already tell that he spent half of his time back home in korea at the gym. his shoulders were incredibly broad, muscles big and swell on his arms while his six-pack of abs practically gleamed in the light of the night.

you couldn't help but run your hands all over his chest as he came back to the bed to hover over you again. "you like?" he smirked.

you nodded before quickly pulling him into another kiss. it wasn't long before taehyung leaned lower, pressing his hard, clothed cock against your pussy. you moaned out as he trailed his fingers over your area, smirking at the wetness already present.

his hand hooked at the top of your skirt, giving you one last look to which you nodded. before you knew it, you were completely exposed underneath the man you met two days ago. but it just felt right. because by the way he looked at you, you knew you didn't have anything to hide or be ashamed of.

"you're so beautiful... do you know that?" he murmured against your lips. you whimpered in response, his words making your head dizzy. he began to rub his thick fingers against your panties before pulling them to the side and entering one inside of you.

you cried out in a moan, which caused taehyung to immediately litter you in soft kisses. it had been so long. "you're okay... i got you baby.”

he gently caressed your face with one hand, his brown eyes holding your gaze intensely. your pussy clenched around him at the nickname that rolled off his tongue as he added another finger, your wetness practically spilling out as he thrusted his fingers in and out.

before you could even process it, taehyung was pulling away from you, his free hand pulling your panties to the side and dipping his head straight into your core. your thighs nearly crushed his head in a mix of pleasure and shock, immediately moaning his name while he started with gentle licks, veiny hands softly prying your legs back open.

his three fingers continued to plunge inside of you while his tongue hungrily explored your walls, preparing you for something much larger. you gripped at his hair, absentmindedly pulling him deeper into you. he laid his tongue flat against your folds before licking a long, slow strip up. you groaned as he picked his pace up again.

he could feel your walls clenching around him as he guided you to your release, his thumb circling your clit while your back arched off of the mattress in pleasure. soon, your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, and taehyung's fingers were covered in your slick before he licked the rest away with ease. something about that made you squirm underneath him.

"did such a good job," he huffed, licking at his lips.

"taehyung, i need you," you moaned breathlessly, hands trailing up his leg to rest over his hardness. you greedily palmed at his cock that was now twitching under your touch.

"i need you too." he groaned, intertwining your hand with his to place a kiss at the top. he quickly climbed off the bed and tugged his belt off with ease, his pants hitting the ground with a soft thud. there it was, a large imprint of his cock angrily bulging through his boxers.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, voice so low you could almost swear you felt the vibration from it. he stood at the edge of the bed while you took him in, peering up at him as your fingers teasingly trailed up from the tip of his cock to the rim of his briefs.

finally, after what felt like hours of getting lost in each other's eyes, you pulled down his boxers, letting his member spring out freely in front of you. it twisted up, almost hitting his metal abs while leaking with pre-cum. he admired you from above while you gawked at it's true size, sitting at the edge of the bed.

it wasn't long before you wrapped your hand around it, slowly trying to take the width into your mouth. he groaned loudly as your lips enclosed around his cock, trying your best to fit in every inch, but failing. his fingers found themselves in your hair as he guided your head back and forth, hissing in pleasure.

you looked up at him after a few minutes, darkness twirling around his brown eyes before he pulled you off gently. he held your face lightly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead before laying you down on the bed. "need to be inside."

you gasped for air as he climbed on top of you, engulfing you in one last kiss before lining himself at your entrance. the kiss was slow this time, infatuation and desire flowing through the both of you. you noticeably winced as his tip slowly broke in through your entrance.

he cooed in your ear as he pushed it in further, your walls almost sucking him in immediately as he practically split you open. you cried out, not at all used to his size. he quickly came to a stop, letting you take it in before proceeding any further.

"look at me," he whispered. your shut eyes opened, gaping up at his face that was barely inches away from yours. he looked at you in awe, like you were made out of glass that he was too scared to break. "stay with me baby."

finally, you let him move and he slid himself all the way in, breaking past your entrance and hitting the back of your walls with his tip. your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer and sinking his cock deeper into you. your walls squeezed around him, earning a deep, guttural moan from him.

"tell me if… too much," he breathed, hot breath spilling down your neck as he peppered kisses behind your ear.

"no," you blurted, gasping for air. "feels so right."

after a few careful thrusts, taehyung quickly picked up his pace. the lewd sound of skin to skin slapping filled the room as stars filled your vision. his tip repeatedly hit the back of your pussy at an angle, bulge visibly fucking you when you looked at your stomach. your nails dug into him, leaving sharp red lines along his sturdy back.

he pulled out almost all the way before ramming himself back inside of you again, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. every thrust sent waves of euphoria through your bodies, sweat combining as he dragged his body against yours. his cock explored your insides like he had done it a million times before. like you were made for each other.

"taehyung," you cried. "don't fucking stop."

he practically growled in your ear in response. his pace was ruthless, his wide cock stretching and dragging along your walls as you whimpered endlessly beneath him. pressure began to build up in your core, tight and hotter than it ever felt in your entire life. every plunge of taehyung's cock pushed you farther into exhilaration.

"need you to come," he said, hands gripping tighter at your waist to push himself farther into you, his thick eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. "on me baby."

and for the second time that night, your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami, walls tightening around taehyung's cock like a vacuum. you moaned out his name, clutching onto his body like you couldn't let go. "need it inside, taehyung." you cried brokenly.

he groaned at your words, cursing in korean while licking a stripe from your ear down to your neck with his tongue. your release created a slosh of wetness around his dick as he kept thrusting into you, eventually letting himself go and spilling his hot seed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. his body twitched against yours as your heart beats fell into sync.

mixed, hot cum sunk into the sheets of your hotel bed as taehyung landed beside you, smile wide as he attacked your face with gentle kisses. you erupted in breathless giggles as he pulled you closer to his chest, nuzzling his nose in the crevice of your neck.

“today with you…" he started, voice low as he caressed your face with his thumb fondly. "i won't forget it.”

"me neither," you smiled.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first thing you noticed was the sunlight. it slipped through the thin hotel curtains in pale gold lines, warming the quiet room and the rumpled sheets around you.

your mind was still somewhere between sleep and memory—the lake, the dinner, the walk through the quiet streets.

then, you felt an arm shift slightly around your waist. you blinked and suddenly, everything came rushing back. taehyung was still asleep beside you, one arm still loosely draped over you.

the soft morning light made him look different somehow. less mysterious than the night before. he looked calmer and younger, almost. a strand of his hair had fallen across his forehead, and his breathing was slow and steady.

it was supposed to feel strange—waking up next to someone you had only met two days ago. yet it didn’t feel strange at all. like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

as if sensing you move, he shifted slightly and opened his eyes. for a second, he looked confused. then, he saw you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “morning,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

“morning," you smiled.

he rubbed a hand across his face, blinking at the sunlight. “you're staring at me.”

you laughed softly. “you were staring at me yesterday.”

“that is different.”

“how?”

he thought about it for a second. “yesterday... i was trying to figure you out.”

“and today?”

he looked at you again, his expression softer now. “today, i’m just happy you’re still here.”

something warm spread through your chest at that. outside, somewhere down the street, a bike buzzed past and a church bell rang faintly in the distance. the town was waking up, but neither of you moved.

instead, he reached out and brushed his fingers lightly along your arm, like he was making sure you were real. “you sleep okay?” he asked.

“yeah,” you said. “you?”

he nodded. then after a moment he said, half-teasing, “you snore a little."

you sat up immediately. “i do not.”

he laughed loudly, pulling you gently back down beside him. “relax,” he said, smiling. “joking.”

you nudged his shoulder. “you’re mean in the morning.”

“a little only.”

you laid there quietly for a moment, the sunlight slowly filling the room. then he glanced at the window. “what are we doing today?”

you shrugged. “i don’t know.”

he looked back at you, smiling again. "good."

"why?"

“yesterday we had no plan,” he laced his fingers through yours lazily before pressing a small kiss on top. “and it was the best day.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the café was only a short walk from the hotel. tiny tables spilled onto the sidewalk, shaded by colorful umbrellas, and the smell of espresso and fresh bread filled the air.

you two squeezed into a small table by the street. soon enough, a waiter brought two cappuccinos and a basket of warm pastries.

you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the first bite. taehyung watched you with a smile. “what?” you asked.

“you look happy.”

“i am happy,” you said. “i’m in italy eating pastries.”

he leaned back slightly in his chair. “with me.”

you raised an eyebrow. “don’t get cocky now.”

he laughed softly. but his eyes stayed on yours longer than necessary. every so often, his hand would drift across the small table, brushing your fingers, like he couldn’t quite stop himself.

at one point, he said quietly, “you’re very beautiful in the morning.”

you laughed. “i definitely am not.”

“you are.” the way he said it made it hard to argue.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you got back to the hotel, the streets were busier. but the moment the lobby door closed behind you two, the bustling noise of the city faded away.

there was something in the air again—the same charged silence from the night before. when you reached your door, you barely had time to unlock it before he gently pulled you closer against him.

“you always walk slow?” he murmured.

“maybe i like the suspense.”

he laughed quietly. inside the room, the sunlight had grown warmer, spilling across the floor. for a moment, you just stood there again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. his hand slid lightly around your waist.

“you know,” he said softly, “i was trying to behave again.”

“again?” you teased.

“yes.”

“and how’s that going?”

his smile was slow. "not very good."

the kiss came naturally after that—soft at first, like neither of you were in a hurry. the kind of slow, lingering closeness that makes time feel like it’s stretching. his hand brushed gently along your back while you laughed quietly against his shoulder.

“you’re distracting,” you said.

“you invited me back.”

“true.”

the room filled with soft laughter and quiet whispers as noon blurred slowly into something warmer and more intimate. eventually you ended up tangled in the sheets again, taehyung thrusting into you from behind, spilling tender words into your ear once more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

later, when the room had gone quiet again, you both ended up sitting near the open window. the warm breeze from the water drifted through the curtains. below you, the town moved slowly through the afternoon—people walking, scooters passing, distant voices echoing through the streets.

he sat beside you on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. “you leave when?” he asked suddenly.

the question caught you off guard. “two weeks,” you said, to which he nodded slowly. “and you?”

“few days after.”

the words hung in the air between you. for the first time since you met, something about the moment felt fragile. temporary.

you glanced at him as you felt your stomach churn. "you're thinking again."

he smiled faintly. "always."

"about what now?"

he looked at you now, expression softer than before. "that i met you in the wrong country."

your heart fluttered at that and he studied your face. then he reached over and laced his fingers with yours again.

outside the window, the sunlight shimmered across the water of the distant lake. and sitting there beside him, you had the quiet, unsettling feeling that this summer—this strange, perfect moment in time—was already beginning to slip away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few nights later, you found yourselves on a hill overlooking the town. someone at a bar had told you two about it earlier that day—a quiet viewpoint where locals sometimes came to watch the stars once the lights below dimmed. the walk up had been steep, but when you both reached the top, you understood why people came.

the whole town stretched below you in warm golden lights, the dark water shimmering faintly in the distance. above, the sky was impossibly clear. more stars than you had seen in years.

you sat on the low stone wall near the edge of the overlook, your shoulders touching as you both looked up.

for a while neither of you spoke, the quiet felt peaceful, but different from before. he was the first one to break the silence.

“you leave soon,” he said softly.

you nodded. “less than a week.”

he stared up at the sky for a moment longer before he let out a quiet breath. “i'm going to miss you.”

the words came out simple. honest. it made your chest tighten. “i’m going to miss you too,” you said.

he glanced over at you then, his expression thoughtful. “you know what's strange?”

“what?”

“we only meet… what, seven days ago?”

"eight,” you said quietly.

he laughed under his breath. “eight days,” he repeated. “and it feels… longer.”

“i know.” the truth of it sat heavily between you. down below, somewhere in the town, faint music drifted through the warm night air.

you leaned back slightly on your hands, looking up at the stars again. “do you ever wish time could just pause?”

he turned his head toward you, quickly averting his gaze from the stars to you, like you were the view he would endlessly choose over the stars. “right now?”

“yeah," you said quietly, fiddling with your thumbs. “so this moment doesn’t end.”

for a second he didn’t answer. then, his hand reached over, gently taking yours. his fingers laced with yours easily now, like they had done it a hundred times already.

“i think,” he said slowly, “if time stopped now… i would be okay with that.”

you smiled softly. “you wouldn’t get bored?”

"not if you were here."

you felt your heartstrings pull at your chest. the quiet stretched again, but this time it felt heavier. after a moment, he shifted closer, resting his shoulder lightly against yours.

“maybe we meet again someday,” he said.

“maybe,” you said. but the way you both said it sounded more like a hope than a plan.

the stars above you glittered against the dark sky. and sitting there beside him, fingers intertwined, you realized something that made your chest ache a little.

this summer—this strange, beautiful, impossible little story you had stumbled into—was never meant to last forever. but somehow that made every moment feel even more important.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

that night, neither of you wanted to go back right away.

you stayed at the viewpoint long after the stars had fully taken over the sky, long after the town below had gone quieter and the air had turned cooler. his hand stayed wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and every so often his thumb moved softly across your skin like he was thinking too much to be still.

on the walk back, you barely spoke. not because there was nothing to say. because there was too much.

the silence between you felt full—of the last few days, of all the things you still hadn’t said, of the quiet understanding that time was moving whether we wanted it to or not.

by the time you reached your hotel, your heart was beating too fast. he stopped with you at the door, and for a second, neither of you moved. the light above the entrance cast a soft gold over his face, catching the tiredness in his eyes, and the softness there too.

“you’re quiet,” he said.

you looked down for a moment, then back at him. “i don’t want this week to be over.”

something in his expression shifted. “me too,” he said quietly. that was all it took.

he stepped closer and kissed you, and this time it felt different from every other kiss before it—deeper, heavier, like all the restraint between you had finally worn thin. your hands found him instinctively, one against his chest, the other sliding up to his jaw, and he held you like he’d been wanting to for hours. maybe days.

the door opened behind you clumsily, and you both half-laughed into the kiss, stumbling inside without really breaking apart.

the room was dim except for the lamp near the bed. the second the door clicked shut, the quiet seemed to close around you.

he looked at you for one breathless second, like he was checking that this was still real, that you still wanted him there. you did.

he saw that immediately, his hand came to your waist again, slow and sure, and the next kiss was gentler somehow, even though the tension behind it burned hotter. he kissed you like he was trying to memorize you—patient, affectionate, impossible to misunderstand.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth.

the words made your chest tighten. you laughed softly, a little shaky. “you always say that.”

“because it’s true.” his forehead rested briefly against yours, both of you catching your breath, but neither moved away. the closeness only made everything worse—his hands, your pulse, the way the whole room seemed charged with something warm and dangerous.

“i’m trying to be good,” he said quietly.

you smiled. “are you?”

he looked at you with that small, unfair smile. “not really.”

you laughed again, but it disappeared when he kissed you once more, slower now, deeper, drawing you in until you forgot whatever you were about say. your hands slid around him; his brushed along your back, then lingered at your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left at all.

everything about the moment felt heightened—the warmth of the room, the soft rustle of clothes, the lamp light against the wall, the sound of your breathing in the quiet of the night.

there was no hurry in the way he touched you, no carelessness. just a kind of focus that made your whole body feel warm. he was still flirty, still teasing in little moments, but softer too, like the closeness meant something to him now beyond the thrill of it.

at one point, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing lightly along your cheek. “what?” you whispered.

he shook his head once, smiling faintly. “i think you made this difficult for me.”

you smiled, even though your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest. “me?”

“yes, you.”

“how?”

he leaned in again, voice low by your ear. “you make me want to stay.”

your breath caught. that nearly undid you more than the kisses had.

when you looked at him again, the teasing had softened. what was left in his face was something quieter, more honest, and somehow that made the moment feel even more intimate than anything else. so, you kissed him first that time. slowly. and whatever small distance that was left between you disappeared for good.

"i don't want to waste a second with you," he murmured into the kiss.

the night blurred after that into warmth and half-finished sentences, into soft laughter and breathless pauses, into the kind of closeness that makes time feel strange. outside, the town kept sleeping, the dark lake somewhere beyond the window, the stars still hanging over everything. but inside the room, it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to only this—to his hands, his voice, the way he said your name like it meant more than it should have after only a few days.

later, when the room finally went quiet, you lay close to him in the dark, both naked in the sheets as your head rested against him while the curtains moved softly in the night breeze. his fingers moved lazily against your arm, and he let out a quiet breath.

“i’m really going to miss you,” he said.

the words landed differently this time. you lifted your head to look at him, but in the dark, you could only make out the shape of his face, the outline of him against the pillow.

"I'm going to really miss you too," you whispered, swallowing the wrenched feeling in your throat. his hand found yours under the sheets, holding it tightly.

and somewhere in the silence that followed, with the window open and the summer night slipping slowly toward morning, you realized this was the part that would stay with you later.

not just the passion or just the wanting. but the tenderness after. and the way he held you like leaving had already begun to hurt.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

six days later~

you wake up before him in that gray early-morning light where your heart automatically felt heavy. the room is quiet except for the city outside your window and his breathing beside you. and for a few seconds, before reality catches up, you let yourself pretend this is normal. that this is just what mornings with him are. that there will be another one tomorrow.

but then, you remembered.

your flight. the time. and the fact that this is it.

he wakes up slowly, still warm and sleepy, one arm heavy around your waist like he kept you beside him even in his sleep. he looks at you like he already knows what kind of morning this is. no teasing, no easy smile at first.

you try to make it lighter. “don’t look at me like that,” with a little laugh that almost works.

he brushes your hair away from your face and says, very softly, “like what?”

"like you're making this harder," you whisper.

he smiles a little, but it's heavy with sadness. "it was always going to be hard."

you stay close in bed, talking in low voices like if you keep speaking softly enough, the morning won’t fully arrive. he traces shapes on your arm while you memorize everything; the slope of his shoulder, the sound of his voice, the way he says your name. both pretending you aren't counting down.

then, you ask him the kind of question people only ask when they’re desperate to keep a piece of someone. “will you remember me?”

the moment the words left you, you almost wished you could take them back. they sounded so small compared to what you really meant. will this matter to you when i’m gone? will i still exist somewhere in you? will i survive in your life after i leave it?

and he looks almost offended by it, but tenderly. like the question broke his heart a little. “don’t ask that.”

“why?”

his jaw tightened just slightly. he looked away for a second, then back at you, and his hand slid from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. “because you know i will.”

it should have settled something in you. but instead, it only made your chest ache harder, because he said it so simply, like it was obvious, like there had never been any possibility that you would not stay with him in some permanent, invisible way.

you started crying, quietly, which was worse than if you had sobbed. he moved closer without a word until your foreheads touched, and you felt him exhale against your lips. his thumb brushed under your eye, catching tears that would only be replaced by more.

“hey,” he murmured, like he was trying to soothe something frightened. little did you know, his heart was breaking into a million pieces at the sight of your tears. “hey.”

you hated that this was happening. you hated that he mattered enough for leaving to feel like being peeled out of your own life. you hated that you had known him for such a short time and somehow, he had made himself essential to you anyway, as if your heart had taken one look at him and made a decision without your permission.

“you make me feel insane,” you whispered, and that made him laugh once, softly, though you could hear the sadness in it.

“i know.”

you let out a shaky breath. “no, i mean it.”

“i know,” he said again, quieter this time.

you stayed like that, forehead to forehead, not kissing, not speaking, just breathing the same air. you could feel his hand trembling just slightly where it held your face, and that nearly broke you more than anything else.

he was trying so hard to be steady for you. trying so hard to keep the moment gentle.

and then, before you could say anything else, before you could decide whether you were brave enough to ruin this with the truth, he said it.

“i love you.”

he didn't dress it up. he didn't hesitate, either. he just said it like it had been waiting there all along, like it had reached the point where staying hidden hurt more than being spoken.

you stared at him, tears coming to a stop from the shock.

for one suspended second, the whole room seemed to go still around you. the traffic outside, the people below, the morning itself—it all receded. there was only his face inches from yours, his eyes searching yours as if he had given you the most fragile thing he had and was waiting to see what you would do with it.

apart of you had always known.

not because either of you had said it, not because you had promised anything, but because of the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. because of how gently he had learned you. because of the way silence with him had never felt empty. because loving him had become the easiest and most dangerous thing you had ever done.

still, hearing it then, with the morning already taking shape around you, with no time left, felt almost unbearable.

your mouth trembled before the words came out. “i love you too.”

he closed his eyes just for a second, like you saying it back had struck somewhere deeper than he had prepared for. then, he kissed you.

not urgently. not desperately. just slowly, with one hand still at your face and the other finding your waist beneath the sheets, holding you as though tenderness itself could become a form of staying. you kissed him back with tears still wet on your cheeks, and he kissed you like he didn't mind them, like grief and love belonged together this morning, and there was no point trying to separate them.

when you pulled apart, you tucked your face into his neck because you couldn't bear the look in his eyes again so soon. his arms came around you immediately, drawing you against his chest until there was no space left between you.

you stayed like that for a long time.

maybe minutes. maybe an hour. time had become strange with him. too fast when you wanted more of it, too slow when you were afraid of what came next.

his hand moved up and down your back in a slow rhythm, and you listened to his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and alive and unfairly calm. you wondered how many mornings from now you would wake and reach for the memory of this one like a bruise. you wondered if loving someone briefly, always felt this permanent.

outside, the city kept waking up. inside, you held each other tighter.

you wanted to tell him not to let you go. you wanted to say you would miss him in ways that would embarrass you if put into words. you wanted to ask him what was going to happen to all this love once there was nowhere for it to go.

instead, you lifted your head and looked at him.

his lashes were still dark with sleep. his hair was a mess. there was a faint mark near his collarbone from where you had kissed him the night before, and seeing it there made something sharp and helpless twist through you. proof. evidence. something to suggest that this had really happened, that he had really been yours for a little while.

you touched it lightly with your fingertips.

he gave you a sad smile. “what?”

you shook your head. “just looking at you.”

his smile deepened, but only barely. “you been doing that a lot.”

“i know.”

“and?”

you tried to answer, but your throat tightened too quickly. he seemed to understand anyway. he always did.

he leaned in and kissed your forehead, then the corner of your eye, then the edge of your mouth; each kiss quiet and deliberate, as if he were trying to leave something behind on your skin that wouldn't fade once you were gone.

you thought, then, that maybe this was what real heartbreak was. not shouting, not drama, not collapse. just this. a soft room. a pale morning. the person you love holding you as if they would keep you if they could, and both of you knowing they cannot.

eventually, you would have to get out of bed. you would have to pack the last of your things and look at him one last time. eventually, one of you would have to leave first.

but not yet. so you curled in closer, and he pulled the blanket higher around you, and you laid there in the fading quiet of your last morning together, saying nothing at all.

because he had already said it. because you had said it back. because sometimes love didn't save you. sometimes it only made losing each other more beautiful.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you got to the station, you already hated it.

you hated the crowds. you hated the sound of rolling suitcases over the concrete. you hated the bright board overhead with its neat rows of departures, as if leaving could ever be that simple—just a time, a platform, a destination. you hated the way people moved around you two with coffees in their hands and places to be, like this was an ordinary morning and not the end of something that had changed you down to the bone.

most of all, you hated that he was the one carrying your bags.

they weren't even that heavy, you could have carried it yourself. but he had taken them from you the second you both stepped out of the cab, slinging them over his shoulder without asking, and you had let him because there was something unbearable in watching him do ordinary things for you one last time.

you walked side by side through the station, not touching at first. not because you didn't want to; but because touching made it too real.

the huge glass ceiling let in a pale, washed-out morning light, the kind that made everything look too exposed. people hurried past you in bursts of movement and sound, their voices overlapping with the far announcement of arrivals and departures in a language you had only just begun to grow fond of. somewhere nearby, a child laughed. somewhere else, someone was crying. the whole station was full of motion, of reunion and departure and impatience, and somehow that made your silence feel even heavier.

you kept glancing at him. he looked unfairly composed.

dark jacket. sleep-rumpled hair he had not fully fixed for once. one hand wrapped around the strap of your bags, the other tucked into his pocket. his jaw was set in that quiet way it got when he was feeling more than he wanted anyone to see. if you had not known him by then—if you had not spent weeks learning the smallest shifts in his face, the meanings behind his silences—you might have believed he was calm.

but you knew him. you knew the stillness in him was effort. you knew he was holding himself together with both hands.

once you reached the platform that your ticket read, you both came to a devastating stop. neither of you moved before he glanced at you.

"you okay?" he asked too quietly.

the question was ridiculous. it almost made you laugh. instead, you looked away toward the tracks, blinking too quickly. “no.”

your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. honest in the worst possible way. he was quiet for a second.

then, you felt his hand at the back of your arm, warm and steady, guiding you gently out of the main rush of people and closer to one of the pillars near the platform entrance, where the crowd thinned just enough to let you have the illusion of privacy.

the train was already there. that was the cruel part. it had arrived before you were ready, all silver and blue and humming softly against the platform, as if it had been waiting patiently to take you away from him. you stared at it with immediate resentment.

“don’t look at it like that,” he murmured.

you turned to him. “like what?”

“like you want to fight it.”

despite everything, you let out a small laugh. “i do.”

that made the corner of his mouth lift.

god, you loved him.

you loved him in that moment with such useless force it made your chest feel thin, like your ribs could no longer hold everything inside you properly. you loved the tired softness in his eyes. you loved the way he was trying to make this easier for you even though you could tell it was wrecking him too. you loved that he was standing there pretending to be steadier than he felt because he thought you needed him to be.

but you wished he would stop. you wished he would break with you. yours eyes dropped to your bags still hanging from his shoulder.

“you don’t have to carry that anymore,” you said quietly.

he looked at you for a moment before sliding the straps off and setting the bags beside your feet. neither of you reached for them after that. they sat between you two like another thing waiting to leave.

an announcement crackled overhead, something about boarding, something about time, something you refused to fully listen to. around you two, people began to move with more urgency toward the train doors, the station shifting into that particular rhythm that meant goodbye was no longer theoretical. it was happening. it was here.

you could feel yourself starting to lose the fight against tears again, heavy wads of water pooling at your waterline.

you pressed your lips together and looked down, but that only made it worse, because then all you could see were both of your shoes pointed toward each other on the concrete, close but not touching. ridiculously normal. like any other couple about to say goodbye after a weekend away. like there was any world in which this was casual.

his fingers tipped your chin up. “hey.” that one word nearly shattered you. your eyes met his.

he looked tired now. not sleepy—wrecked. like this morning had finally reached him too. there was something helpless in the way he was looking at you, and you realized then that he did not know how to do this either. he was just better at hiding it.

“i don’t know how to leave you,” you whispered. his hand stayed on your face. for a second, he said nothing. his thumb moved once over your cheekbone, and you could feel how carefully he was trying to breathe.

“i know,” he said at last. that was all. not it’ll be okay. not don’t say that. just the truth.

you let out a shaking breath that turned into a laugh and then almost into a sob. “that’s all you have to say?”

a sad smile touched his mouth. “no.”

“then what?”

his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before lifting back to your eyes. around you, the station kept moving. more footsteps. another announcement. a whistle from somewhere farther down the platform. but inside that small space between you two, everything had gone painfully still. then he said, very quietly, “come here.”

you stepped into him like there had never been another place for you to go, and his arms came around you instantly, hard enough to make your breath catch. it wasn't gentle this time, it was tight.

he held you like someone trying not to lose something already slipping away, one hand spread wide over your back, the other cradling the back of your head, pressing you close into his chest.

you buried your face in his jacket and inhaled. he smelled like cold air, soap, and the cologne you had gotten used to finding on your sheets, your sweaters, on your skin hours after he was gone. familiar already. dangerous already. you wrapped your arms around him and held on as tightly as you could, like there was still some bargain left to make with the universe if you just refused to loosen your grip.

he kissed your hair. then your temple. then he pressed his mouth against the side of your head and just stayed there. you could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy beneath your cheek. so he was not calm. this was ruining him too.

when you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his hands stayed on your waist, like even that small amount of distance was unacceptable. your face was wet. you didn't know when you had started crying again.

he looked at you with that raw, unguarded expression you had only ever seen in private, and something in him seemed to give way.

“listen to me,” he said.

you nodded because you couldn't do anything else. his jaw tightened, and for one terrible second, you thought he might stop there, might decide whatever he wanted to say was too much, too late, too dangerous. but he didn't.

“this doesn’t get to become something small just because it ended fast.”

you stared at him. he swallowed once, hard.

“you don’t get to leave here and act like this was some... pretty little thing that happened to you in another country.” his voice had gone lower, rougher now, emotion breaking through despite himself. “you don’t get to pretend i didn’t—” he stopped, exhaled sharply, then tried again. “you matter to me.”

the tears came harder after that. not because you doubted it.

because hearing him say it so plainly made it real in a way you couldn't protect yourself from. because some part of you had still been afraid that once you stepped onto the train, all of this would begin to dissolve immediately, turning into memory too fast, into something dreamlike and impossible to prove.

but this—his face, his voice, the way his hands trembled slightly at your waist—was proof. you let out a shaky breath. “you matter to me too.”

his eyes searched yours, almost angry with feeling. “too?”

you laughed through tears, and he huffed a breath that might have been a laugh too, despite everything. “i love you,” you said.

you didn't plan on saying it again. maybe you should have saved it. maybe you should have let the morning keep it. but standing there with the train waiting with his hands on you and no future you could point to with certainty, the words rose up all on their own.

his whole face changed— enough for you to see how deeply it landed. he leaned down and kissed you. right there on the platform, with people passing and announcements overhead and the train waiting to take you away from him.

it wasn't a polite goodbye kiss.

it was slow at first, heartbreakingly slow, his hand sliding from your waist to the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw like he needed to feel that you were real for one second longer. then, you kissed him back with all the grief you had, all the love, all the helplessness, and something in the kiss deepened—still tender, still careful, but fuller now, almost desperate beneath the softness. like neither of you knew how to stop once you had started.

when you broke apart, your foreheads touched for half a second. he exhaled against your mouth. “i love you too,” he said.

the words went through you like light through glass. beautiful but sharp, ruining. another boarding announcement sounded. louder this time. final.

you closed your eyes. “no,” you whispered.

he let out the saddest little laugh you had ever heard. “i know.”

he stepped back first, but only barely, his hands sliding slowly from your waist like even that small release cost him something. then he reached down, picked up your bags, and handed it to you.

that nearly hurt more than the kiss. you took them from him with both hands. your fingers brushed his.

"write to me,” you said, even though you knew letters were too slow for feelings like this. even though you knew wanting things didn't make them possible.

“i will.”

“promise?”

his expression tightened. then he nodded once. “yeah. i promise.”

the conductor called for final boarding. this was it.

there should have been some final perfect thing to say. something literary and aching and worthy of the kind of love that had grown too fast and too real between you. but all you could think, looking at him one last time on that crowded platform, was how badly you did not want a world that did not have him standing in front of you.

so, what you said was, “i don’t want to go.”

his eyes flickered shut for the briefest second. when they opened again, they were shining, water threatening to drop from his lash line.

“i know,” he said. then, softer—“but go.” his voice almost cracked.

and that was what broke you. not because it was cold, but because it was love. because he wouldn't ask you to stay if staying would ruin your life. because he loved you enough to let the train take you home.

you kissed him once more, quickly this time because you knew if you made it longer, you would never leave. then you turned before your body could change its mind. he let go of you, the familiar warmth of his body escaping yours for the last time.

you got on the train without looking back at first. because you simply couldn't bear to.

you made it through the door, down the narrow aisle, to the window seat with shaking hands and a pulse so loud you could barely hear anything else. your bags slipped from your shoulder onto the floor. you sat. breathed once. twice. then, you looked up.

he was still there. exactly where you had left him. one hand in his coat pocket, the other hanging by his side. not moving. not pretending to move on yet. just looking up at your window like he could still see you clearly through the glass.

you put your hand up before you could stop yourself. his mouth tightened in that almost-smile you knew so well, the one that always looked like he was feeling too much to fully make it happen. then, he lifted his hand too.

the train jerked beneath you. slowly, painfully, it began to move.

he stayed where he was as the platform started to slide away as the distance opened like a wound between you. you watched him get smaller through the glass, watched the shape of him blur, not because he was too far now, but because your eyes were too full of tears to hold him properly.

still, you kept looking. even after he became only a dark figure among others. even after the platform gave way to tracks and iron beams and the station began to disappear.

you kept looking long after there was nothing left to see.

because some selfish, foolish part of you believed that if you stared hard enough, you could keep him. but the train carried you forward anyway.

and all you could do was sit there with your hand still half-raised, your mouth trembling, and the taste of him still on your lips, thinking the most devastating thought of your life:

you had found him.

and now you were leaving him behind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

an: oh my god this was terribly painful to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did- I've been craving nothing more than to write something incredibly angsty.

update: read epilogue here ♡

You always told yourself it was just convenience. A no-strings-attached setup that fit perfectly into your chaotic early twenties life. At 21, you were juggling part-time jobs, night classes at the local community college, and a social circle that revolved around cheap beer and late-night ramen runs. Relationships? Those were for people with time and emotional bandwidth. You barely had enough energy to keep your tiny apartment from looking like a disaster zone.

Kim Taehyung, on the other hand, was the epitome of put-together adulthood. At 33, he owned a small but thriving graphic design firm in the heart of Seoul's bustling Gangnam district. He'd traded his wild younger days for a sleek loft apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Han River, a collection of vintage vinyl records and a wardrobe full of tailored shirts that hugged his broad shoulders just right. No wife, no kids, just a string of casual flings that never lasted longer than a season.

You met him at a mutual friend's gallery opening six months ago. It was one of those pretentious events where everyone pretended to understand abstract art while sipping overpriced wine. You were there because your roommate dragged you along, promising "free booze and hot guys." Taehyung was the hot guy in question: tall, with tousled dark hair that fell over his forehead, sharp jawline and eyes that seemed to hold secrets. He caught you staring at a particularly baffling sculpture, a twisted metal thing that looked like a deconstructed heart.

"Confusing, right?" His voice was deep, velvety, with a hint of that southern drawl that made your stomach flip. "I think it's supposed to represent heartbreak or something. Or maybe it's just scrap metal."

You laughed, louder than you intended, drawing a few side-eyes from the artsy crowd. "Honestly, it looks like my love life: messy and pointless."

He smirked, leaning against the wall beside you. "Sounds like you need a drink to match."

One drink turned into three and before you knew it, you were in the back alley behind the gallery, his lips on yours, hands roaming with a confidence that came from experience. He was older, sure, but that only made it hotter. No fumbling, no awkward pauses, just pure, electric chemistry. That night ended in his car, parked in a dimly lit garage, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you with a rhythm that left you breathless.

It should have been a one-night stand. But a week later, his text lit up your phone: "Missed the taste of you. Come over?"

And just like that, you were hooked.

Now, six months in, it was a well-oiled routine. No dates, no sleepovers, no pet names. Just sex, mind-blowing, toe-curling sex that left you sore and satisfied. You'd show up at his place (or he'd come to yours on rare occasions when impatience won out), shed your clothes, and lose yourselves in each other for a few hours. Then, one of you would leave with a casual "See you next time" and life went on.

Tonight was no different. It was a Friday, the kind of humid summer evening where the city air clung to your skin like a second layer. You'd just finished a grueling shift at the coffee shop, smelling faintly of espresso and vanilla syrup, when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

"You up for it? Door's unlocked." Simple, direct. No pleasantries. That's what you liked about Taehyung, he didn't pretend this was anything more than it was.

You showered quickly, threw on a simple sundress (easy access, you'd learned) and hopped on the subway. His loft was in a trendy neighborhood, the kind with artisanal bakeries and overpriced boutiques. As you rode the elevator up to his floor, you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, not butterflies, exactly, but anticipation. The kind that made your thighs clench involuntarily.

The door was indeed unlocked. You slipped inside, kicking off your shoes in the entryway. The apartment was dimly lit, soft jazz playing from his vintage record player in the living room. Taehyung was in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, shirtless in low-slung sweatpants that did nothing to hide the outline of his semi-hard cock. God, he was beautiful: tanned skin stretched over lean muscle, a faint trail of hair leading down from his navel, disappearing beneath the waistband.

He turned when he heard you, those dark eyes raking over your body like he was already undressing you. "Took you long enough" he teased, voice low and rough.

"Traffic" you lied, stepping closer. The air between you crackled, charged with unspoken need.

He set the glass down, closing the distance in two strides. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heat, the hard planes of his chest against your softer curves. "Missed this" he murmured, lips brushing your ear.

"Not me?" you shot back, half-joking, as your fingers traced the V of his hips.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. "Always the smart mouth." Then his lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. No gentle buildup, just raw passion, tongues tangling, teeth nipping. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing possessively as he backed you against the kitchen counter.

You gasped when he lifted you onto the cool marble, the dress riding up your thighs. He stepped between your legs, grinding against you, letting you feel how hard he already was. "Fuck, you're always so ready" he growled, fingers hooking into your panties and yanking them aside.

You moaned as he teased your entrance, circling your clit with his thumb. "Tae..."

"Shh" he whispered, nipping at your neck. "Let me take care of you first."

He dropped to his knees, spreading your thighs wider. His breath ghosted over your core, making you shiver. Then his mouth was on you: hot, wet, relentless. He licked and sucked with expert precision, knowing exactly what drove you wild. Your hands fisted in his hair, hips bucking against his face as pleasure built like a storm.

"Oh god, right there..." You were close already, the tension coiling tight in your belly.

He hummed in approval, the vibration sending you over the edge. You came with a cry, waves of ecstasy crashing through you. He didn't stop, lapping up every drop until you were trembling and oversensitive.

Satisfied, he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust. "Bedroom. Now."

You slid off the counter on shaky legs, following him down the hallway. His bedroom was minimalist: king-sized bed with crisp white sheets, a large window framing the city lights. He stripped off his sweatpants, cock springing free, thick and veined, already leaking precum.

"Lie down" he ordered, voice husky.

You complied, shedding your dress and bra along the way. Naked, you stretched out on the bed, watching as he crawled over you, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the taste. His cock nudged against your thigh, hot and insistent.

"Condom?" you asked, though you already knew the answer. Early on, you'd both gotten tested and you'd assured him you were on the pill. But lately... well, things had shifted. He never brought it up, but there was a possessiveness in the way he fucked you raw, the way he lingered inside after.

He shook his head, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. "Not tonight. Want to feel all of you."

Your heart raced at the implication, but you didn't protest. Truth be told, the risk thrilled you too, the forbidden edge to it all.

He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds. "So wet for me" he murmured, pushing in slowly. Inch by inch, he filled you, stretching you perfectly. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Fuck, Tae...you're so big."

He groaned, bottoming out with a snap of his hips. "Take it, baby. Just like that."

He started moving, thrusts deep and deliberate. Not frantic, but controlled, like he was savoring every clench, every gasp. His hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples until you whimpered.

"Look at you" he rasped, eyes locked on where you were joined. "Taking my cock so well. Like you were made for it."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. The angle hit that spot inside you, white dots blooming behind your eyelids. "Harder...please..."

He obliged, pace quickening. The bed creaked under the force, skin slapping against skin. Sweat slicked your bodies, the room filled with the obscene sounds of your coupling.

Taehyung's control slipped as he neared his peak. His thrusts grew erratic, hips slamming into yours. One hand slid down to your stomach, pressing firmly just above your pubic bone. "Feel me here? So deep inside you."

You nodded frantically, too lost in sensation to speak. But you felt it, the bulge of him, the way he claimed every inch.

"Gonna fill you up" he grunted, voice strained. "Make you mine."

The words sent a jolt through you. He didn't say it outright, but the intent was there, the breeding kink simmering beneath the surface. The way he held you down, the possessive grip, the refusal to pull out. It was subtle, woven into his actions rather than spelled out.

"Come for me" he demanded, thumb finding your clit again. "Want to feel you milk me."

That pushed you over. Your orgasm hit like a wave, walls fluttering around him. He followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural moan. Hot spurts painted your insides, his cock twitching as he emptied himself completely.

He didn't pull out right away. Instead, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy, still semi-hard inside. His hand remained on your belly, thumb stroking lazily. "Stay like this" he murmured against your skin. "Just a little longer."

You hummed in agreement, aftershocks rippling through you. It was intimate, almost too much for "just sex." But you pushed the thought away. This was the arrangement, no feelings, no complications.

Eventually, he withdrew, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum leaked out. He grabbed a towel from the nightstand, cleaning you up with surprising gentleness. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his side for a brief moment, another unspoken ritual.

"You good?" he asked, voice soft in the quiet.

"Yeah. You?"

"Mm-hmm." He paused, then added, "You should crash here tonight. It's late."

You hesitated. Sleepovers weren't part of the deal. But the bed was warm and your body ached in the best way. "Okay. Just this once."

He smirked, turning off the light. In the darkness, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. It felt dangerously like more than just sex. But come morning, you'd both pretend it wasn't.

The next few weeks blurred into a haze of stolen moments. Your texts grew more frequent, not just booty calls, but casual check-ins. "How's class?" from him one afternoon.

"Survived the shift?" from you after a long day.

You told yourself it didn't mean anything. He was just being polite. But deep down, you knew the lines were blurring.

One night, after a particularly intense session where he'd fucked you from behind, mirror in front of you so you could watch, he broke the silence as you lay tangled in sheets.

"Why do we do this?" he asked, fingers tracing patterns on your back.

You turned to face him, heart pounding. "Because it's fun? No strings."

He nodded, but his eyes held something unspoken. "Yeah. Fun." Another pause. "You ever think about... more?"

Your breath caught. "Tae..."

"Forget it." He kissed your forehead, a gesture too tender for fuck buddies. "Just thinking out loud."

But the seed was planted.

A month later, things escalated. You'd had a shitty week: failed a test, fought with your roommate and showed up at his door unannounced, needing release.

He didn't question it. Just pulled you inside, clothes off in record time. This time, he was rougher, more urgent. Pinned you to the wall, legs over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. Then on the couch, riding him reverse cowgirl, his hands guiding your hips.

"Fuck, you're perfect" he groaned, slapping your ass lightly. "Could do this forever."

You came twice before he flipped you onto your back, driving into you with abandon. His hand pressed on your lower abdomen again, eyes glazing over. "Imagine if- shit...if I knocked you up. You'd look so good, full of me."

The words slipped out, raw and unfiltered. Your eyes widened, but the idea sent a forbidden thrill through you. "Tae..."

He froze for a split second, then thrust harder. "Just a fantasy" he muttered, but his pace said otherwise.

When he came, it was with a roar, flooding you deep. He stayed buried, grinding slowly as if to push it further in. His breathing was ragged, hand splayed wide on your belly.

After, as he cleaned up, the air was thick with tension. "Sorry if that was weird" he said, avoiding your gaze.

"It wasn't." You pulled him back to bed. "Kinda hot, actually."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

From then on, the kink crept in more overtly, still subtle, but present. Whispers of "Gonna breed you" during heated moments, his obsession with coming inside, the way he'd hold you after, hand always on your stomach like claiming territory.

But it was still just sex. Right?

One rainy evening, you arrived soaked from the downpour. He wrapped you in a towel, made you tea: domestic acts that chipped away at the boundaries.

As you sipped, he watched you from across the kitchen. "You know, you're not like the others."

"Others?" Jealousy pricked, unbidden.

"Past flings. They were... temporary. You're different."

You set the mug down. "What are you saying?"

He crossed to you, tilting your chin up. "I don't want just sex anymore. I want you. All of you."

Your heart soared, but fear held you back. "The age gap...people will talk."

"Fuck people." He kissed you softly. "I don't care. Do you?"

You searched his eyes, seeing sincerity. "No."

"Then let's try."

It wasn't a fairytale ending, there were arguments, adjustments to the age difference, navigating your worlds. But the sex? It only got better, now laced with emotion.

And that breeding kink? Well, let's just say, in time, much later, it became more than fantasy.

But that's a story for another day.

“Sure, Jaehyun-ssi. Just give me five minutes.” taking the papers from him, you stand up. 

“Thank you!” he bows at you as you walk towards the copy room lazily. 

The copy room is just beside the breakroom, you will have to walk past the breakroom to reach your destination. Just as you start nearing the breakroom, you hear giggles and laughter coming from it. And if you are not hearing things then one of those voices is Taehyung’s.

“But Taehyung-ssi is really the MVP, he managed to befriend the most antisocial person of the entire floor.” your feet stop as you hear Yuna, one of those who circle around Taehyung’s periphery, speak in a teasing tone. 

They are talking about you, you have no doubt about that. 

“Eh? Who are you talking about?” Taehyung almost whines. 

“The programming genius Y/N, who else!” she replies. 

“Yes, you two have been eating a lot of ice creams these days, huh? Are those dates?” another one from the group butts in with his own curiosity. 

“Dates? Me and Y/N? Are you guys insane?” Taehyung laughs out loud. His voice booms through the open glass door of the breakroom. You watch his translucent reflection on the door, the distortion of his expression is visible. 

Your heart stops beating for a moment, as your brain has to take a bit of time to analyze whatever data it was receiving is real or not. 

This is really happening. Taehyung is actually not interested in you that way - which is fine. You can take the rejection. But why is he talking about you like that? Like seeing you under a romantic light is wrong? Scandalous? 

“Those were not dates? Then what are you two? Best friends?” Yuna teases him again. 

“Nope. Not even close. I only befriended her because I felt pity for her being an outcast. There’s no other special reason. She is a bit awkward, I’d say. Not bad but definitely not someone I would date or be best friends with.” Taehyung shrugs, breaking your heart in pieces. 

All of the time you thought you two were close, was nothing but a pity party for Taehyung? Your and his friendship was a charity case? 

You have been living in a delusion. Thinking that someone as popular as Taehyung would be interested in you was a delusion for sure. You stand there, every other sound ebbs away, only the loud cacophony of Taehyung’s words remain. You forget what you were doing, what you are about to do and how to function all together. 

You really are nothing but an amusement to him? Just someone to make fun of? Ten months of friendship was a lie? A complete lie? 

But not anymore. You have to come out of the temporary comfortable lie you put yourself in. you have to go back to your previous state - an outcast with no friends and honestly that is way better than having fake people around you. 

Walking towards the copy room, you do your job. If a few tears make their way out of your eyes - no one needs to know about that.

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“Are you really going to make me wait?” 

Taehyung’s mouth is set in the sweetest pout as his eyes narrow, focused solely on you. He’s acting impatient, but you know better. 

You sit facing him on the large, freshly-made bed, legs straddling his waist, wearing nothing but a smirk and a flimsy black camisole with matching thongs that wedged invisibly between the cheeks of your ass. You press yourself against him, knowing exactly what you would find there. 

“All good things come to those who wait,” you reply with a smile. “Don’t you know that?”

You hum approvingly, thighs squeezing tighter around him as you rotate your hips, grinding yourself onto him suggestively. Leaning into his shoulder, you bite at his neck, soothing the patch instantly with a few deft flicks of your tongue and a succession of sucking kisses. 

Usually it’s Taehyung who takes control when you make love, holding you down and taking you apart like a predator with prey, his heat consuming you until you’re dizzy and aching with a want that makes your mind blank. 

But sometimes −only sometimes− you like to surprise him. Nights like this one, when he had returned from almost three weeks away, his body tired and needy, yearning to be taken care of, and submissive to your command. Succumbing himself to your control. 

“Is little Tae ready to play?” you coo, lifting yourself off by a fraction and stretching a hand down between your bodies to palm over his sizeable bulge that protrudes invitingly out through the material of his jeans. 

The irony; he’s nothing even close to little. 

Taehyung moans needily, the kind of moan that had you hanging onto your own control by a very taut thread. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes raggedly. “−You know what you’re doing to me right now?”

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. So achingly fine your vision swims as you take him in, leaving you in no doubt that he must be God’s finest creation. 

Dark, expressive eyes fringed with long, dark lashes, that makes it feel as if he’s melting your soul when he looks at you. Crafted, fine, angular lines of his jaw, and tall, physical appearance that left you wanting him more than air. Full, pink lips, that every so often captivate you with his trademark boxy grin, which he bites at now in that incredibly alluring manner. 

He’s rock hard, the outline of his cock straining against your hand as he chases friction under your heated palm. You hum softly. “That good, hmm?” you coo, stroking him slowly, knowing how your teasing touch drove him crazy. “You like that?”

Taehyung reaches round to place one hand behind your head, long fingers embedding themselves in your hair as he fists it firmly, tilting your head back, his mouth hovering over yours, eyes hooded and dark with desire. You shudder with excitement. He makes you feel so wanton, so full of desire and lust, and so totally encompassed in him. 

“Touch me!” he hisses, his breath hot over your mouth, his other hand pressing yours down harder over his erection. “It hurts.”

You tut softly, your gaze dropping to his mouth, then back to his eyes. “Poor baby,” you tease, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss from his lips. 

Taehyung tries to elongate the kiss, but you’re too quick, moving back even under his hold. 

“Hey, I’m no ba−.”

His protests die as you press the heel of your palm down at the base of his cock, causing him to close his eyes and moan. His grip in your hair loosens, and you quickly place a hand at his shoulder and push him back against the pillow. With one swift motion, you lift the camisole up over your head and discard it over the side of the bed. 

He looks up at you expectantly, his arousal evident as you lean over him. His fingers slide from your hair, over your shoulders and down to reach for your naked breasts, gathering them in his large hands and squeezing them together. Desire is rampant in his gaze as he stares at the soft flesh, tweaking at your nipples in a maddening rhythm. 

You bat at his hands, taking them away and bringing them down to the sides of his head. 

“Did I say you could touch me?” you ask, biting your lip as you look down into his face, noticing the quickening of his breath. 

He’s turned on. You feel yourself clench expectantly, there’s no better sight than watching as he unravels under your command. Watching that pretty face fluster and flush, colour rising as he comes undone with your touch. 

His silky hair falls in messy bangs across his forehead, making him look so boyishly alluring. You touch it away from his face with gentle fingers, enjoying the feel of his soft skin under your fingertips. 

You bend down, your breasts flattening against his chest, bringing your mouth to his in a searching, open-mouthed kiss −the kind he so often gives you when he has you moaning beneath him, taking you apart for hours. Your hold his wrists down in place as you kiss him, ensuring he understands that he isn’t to move unless you tell him to. 

Taehyung moans softly, mouth responding to you, yielding under the pressure of your lips willingly. He bucks up, as if to remind you that he’s still hard. You chuckle, brushing the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling down at the side of his mouth. 

He lifts his free hand up to touch your cheek, and you catch it, bringing his fingers to your mouth. Taehyung’s hands are as beautiful as he is. Long, elegant, well-manicured fingers that are expert in finding every single pleasure zone on your body that sit on large, capable hands you could never get enough of feeling on you. 

You maintain eye contact as slowly, you encircle his thumb with the tip of your tongue. He groans, sighing your name in that velvety deep voice that made you think of sensual nights and molten chocolate. You draw his thumb into your mouth with a slow suck, your eyes never leaving his as your tongue flickers around it suggestively. 

“Y/N−,” he says raggedly, hips straining upwards against you as you grind over him simultaneously. “I need to−.”

You bite down with a bit of pressure to reduce him to a writhe under you. You let his hand go and come back to his mouth, sucking at his bottom lip. You can taste the cherry cola he had opened when he’d come in, the sweet tart taste lingering on his tongue. 

“Mm,” you whisper against his mouth. “You taste like cherries…”. 

“Please, Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, hands clenching at the bedcovers. “I need to feel you. Please, baby.”

You raise an eyebrow. There is something gorgeously illicit that feeds your own lust hearing that honey baritone beg. “You need to?” 

“Yes!” he hisses sharply as you lick across his mouth and then in, your tongue playing with his in a slow dance. 

Your own need is becoming harder to hold back now as you feel your slick pooling, the taut coil inside you tightening with every second, aching to let go. You trail tiny kisses over his handsome face, finding those sweet moles that adorn him, along his cheek and down towards the angle of his jaw. The vein at the side of his neck is temptingly prominent as his head goes back, allowing you to kiss down his throat and over his Adam’s Apple. 

When you reach the base of his throat, your mouth is prevented from going much further by the collar of his shirt. Quickly you begin to undo the buttons, and in a matter of moments you have it open and ease the material away from his body. Taehyung sits up and shrugs the shirt off. 

Golden skin greets you, toned and muscular, soft and heated, beckoning you to touch it. You run your hands down over his torso, over the familiar planes of his muscles, watching as he shudders at your touch, his expression enraptured, mouth parted with pleasure and desire. 

You continue your kissing journey at the hollow between his neck and shoulder, nestling at the crook to inhale him, loving the feeling of being so close to him like this. Slowly you move down until you reach his breast, licking at the hard peak of his nipple, skimming your tongue back and forth and around it before sucking at it softly. 

He grunts, one hand coming up to try and guide your head lower, but you don’t move, staying in place at his chest but moving to his other breast. His groan is guttural and needy, and you smile inwardly. This is exactly what you had in mind. 

Your kisses go even lower, down over his firm abdomen, finding his navel and burying your mouth on him. You can smell the musky fragrance of his soap on his skin, and that unmistakeable scent of him, arousing and sexual. 

“God−Y/N!” he cries as you stroke over his cock with the apple of your cheek. “−Fuck!”

Your mouth lingers dangerously close to the belted waist of his slacks, and you give him a mischievous smile. 

Slowly, you find the edge of his leather belt strap and start to slide it through the hoop. You can feel him tense, as if he is holding his breath for the moment you release him. You unbuckle the belt, tugging it loose before you begin to unfasten his slacks, pulling down the zipper unhurriedly, knowing every elongated second would be driving him mad with need. 

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, saliva pooling in your mouth hungrily as you reach into his underwear and make contact with Taehyung’s big cock. He moans brokenly as you tease it out, blush pink, veined with a darker tip that glistens with a substantial amount of precum, springing back against his stomach. 

You murmur appreciatively as you run your eyes down the velvety shaft that greets you. There is nothing you want more than to just sit astride him and impale yourself on that incredible length and let him split you apart until you come. 

But you couldn’t make it that easy, no matter how hard it was to resist. You tug down his slacks and underwear, easing them off before you return your focus to what was between his legs. 

“Hi, little Tae,” you say, licking your lips. 

You hear how his breathing quickens into short, strained gasps as he brings a hand to his cock, long fingers curling around the base to stroke himself tentatively. Once more you remove his hands, giving him a chiding look. “Uh-uh −that’s my job.”

“Please, Y/N−,” he implores in a whine. “Touch me. I need−.”

“I know exactly what you need,” you interject breathily. 

You take hold of his cock with one hand, barely getting your fingers to wrap fully around the width as you begin to caress him. Up then down with firm, long strokes, rubbing his seeping precum into the head as you bring your mouth closer, eager to taste. 

Taehyung stares down at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth parted in hissed, ragged whispers of cuss words and filthy talk that leave you heady with lust. 

“You want me to suck it?” you ask, “Does little Tae want to feel how wet my mouth is?”

He bites at his lip, face contorting with raw, unfiltered want. “Fuck, yes!” 

“And you −what about you?”

“God, yes!” he groans, trying to steer your head towards the straining head of his cock. “Please. Do it, please.”

You don’t attempt to stop him this time. “How badly do you want it?” you tease, your lips just grazing the tip of his cock. 

Taehyung moans with gritted teeth. “I’ll do anything,” he tells you breathlessly. “Please, suck me. I need to come so bad, baby. Please, Y/N.”

Without another word, you take him into your mouth, all the way in until you can feel him start to stretch out the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you force back the gag reflex that rises. 

You can taste the salty tang of his precum already as your lips close down around him, your cheeks hollowing as you start to suck at him as you wrap a hand around the thick base. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, lapping at him as your head starts to bob up and down over his cock. 

“Fuck, baby!” 

Taehyung’s wanton moan is guttural and desperate, the hand that steers your head tightening its grip in your hair. It only drives you on further as you work him between your mouth and hand, using your saliva to slide down his cock smoothly, tongue cleaning up every bead of precum that slips through his slit, feeling him harden even further. 

It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him melt into your mouth −but you can’t wait to feel him inside you, swollen and ready to burst, filling you with his load. The thought has you slickening, your body on fire for him. Gently you nip at him before you withdraw, moving down towards his balls that curl tightly up underneath. Carefully you take one into your mouth, and then the other, sucking lightly as you continue to stroke his cock rhythmically with your hand. 

The sounds you can hear him make should be illegal, they’re so sinfully arousing. You retake his cock into your mouth, sucking harder, quickening the pace until he tugs at your hair hard, causing you to slow down. 

“Stop!” he says sharply. “You have to stop −or else I’ll… I’m too close.”

You take your mouth away from him with a knowing grin. “But isn’t that what you wanted?” 

He’s visibly straining now, eyes glassy as he fixes you with an impatient, needy look. “I need to fuck you, baby,” he gasps, “−Now.”

“Yeah?”

You climb off the bed before he can take you into his arms, and he sits up, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes drop, travelling over the soft curves of your breast and down over your stomach and lingering at the tops of your thighs. You tuck your fingers in to the sides of your thongs and slide them down under his gaze to reveal your moist cunt. 

“Beautiful,” he sighs, eyes darkening, propping himself up stroking at his cock while he watches you. 

You approach him again, tossing your hair back as you climb slowly back onto the bed. Taehyung reaches for you, pulling you to him, and you straddle him, arms wrapping around his neck. 

He trails long, sensual fingers up and down your back, his mouth at the hollow of your throat where he places a series of soft kisses, sucking intermittently at your skin. It takes a mountain of willpower to ease him off, but any more of that and he’d have you on your back before you could say his name. 

You reach down, gently taking his length in one hand, allowing the tip to glide effortlessly between your soaking wet folds. Taehyung jolts, hips bucking up in search of more friction, and that elusive entry he’s so desperate for. 

You look down into his face, his eyes are closed now, long, dark lashes spread out against his skin. Staggered, breathless pants escape his full, kissable lips, and when you slide him up and down again, you watch his expression as he winces in that heady mix of pleasure and pain. 

The effect on you makes you tremor with an insatiable need. 

“You like that, huh?” you whisper, kissing at his lips, licking into his eager mouth, one hand gripping at his cock, the other on one of his bare, broad shoulders. “Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” he sighs huskily. 

He holds your waist, eyes fluttering open to look at you. They’re onyx pools you could drown in willingly. He is so fucking stunning, and he’s all yours. The notion thrills you. 

There isn’t much left of your own control now as you feel the ache in your cunt increase, crying out for his cock to fill you. You stop moving and position yourself over him, guiding him towards your entrance. He stills, fingers tightening around you impatiently. 

Slowly you push down with your body over him. You’re wet enough that the head of his cock enters you with minimal effort, but that’s all. His sheer size will require far more endeavour. You gasp as the intense mix of pleasure and pain begins, and carefully you start to work yourself down over his erection. 

Taehyung groans in a way that should be illegal as he feels your walls start to pull him in, closing around his cock like heated warmth. 

“You’re so tight,” he breathes deliriously, circling his hips under you to work himself in just another inch. “So fucking tight and wet.”

His words have you shuddering in delight and a little more of him disappears inside you. You can feel every stretch of your walls, every inch of that magnificent cock finding its way right to your very core. You already feel stuffed, and you look down curiously, wondering how much more was left before he was fully in. 

“Oh, fuck!” you exclaim the moment you see that he’s only just past the halfway mark. “You’re so fucking big.”

You see the pride in his eyes, inciting him to buck up whilst simultaneously pulling down on your hips, another inch successfully inside. You moan because now you can really feel him. It isn’t the first time, but every time you have to allow yourself to adjust to his incredible sized cock. 

“You can take it, baby,” he says, watching you with eyes that tell you he’s already too far gone. 

At any moment, he would lose control and then it was open season on your cunt. Fear and excitement mix in your senses, and you moan softly, lowering yourself down further, biting at your lip as the stinging ache deepened, the stretch becoming intense, and your need heightened. 

“That’s it,” Taehyung groans. “All the way, baby.”

Finally, you feel your bottom touch the heat of his thighs, his hold of your waist releasing slightly as you lean in, arms wrapping round Taehyung’s neck, the kiss long and deep. You grip him inside you tightly, rocking your body ever so gently back and forth to keep both of you stimulated. 

You love the way he feels inside you. Huge and hard, every ridge and vein pressed firmly against your walls, awakening every nerve into pleasure, and igniting your body full of the urge to let him totally ruin you. 

You break apart, making deliberate eye contact as you start to ease off his cock slowly. He knows what’s coming, anticipation rife in his expression as his hands find the curves of your ass, fingers caressing at the soft flesh and digging in. 

“You like to watch me ride you?” you say, voice firm as you grit your teeth in preparation for the onslaught you are about to encounter. “Like to watch how I bounce on your cock.”

Taehyung’s hooded eyes look back at you, hands moving round to run along your thighs. “Fuck me,” he commands gruffly, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Fuck me like you know you want to.”

You are so turned on as you start to lower yourself over him again, enjoying the feel of his cock filling up the substantial hollow he had left behind. You couldn’t deny him, because that would mean denying yourself. 

Truth be told, he’s too fucking hot, and his cock is most definitely the best you have ever had. 

Something spurs ahead within you, and you begin to move faster. Taehyung moans beneath you, his fingers at your waist again, digging into your skin as he leans back to watch you grind yourself over him. 

You relish your position, enjoying this brief spell of dominance. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you, baby,” he growls, hips snapping up. “I want to fuck you until I feel you come all over me.”

You pick up the pace, the ache giving way to the inevitable pleasure that starts to mount every time the head of his cock touches that sweet spot inside you. You are so turned on, head thrown back, hands gripping his shoulders, your body taut as you ride him with enthusiasm. 

“You feel so good,” you gasp, slamming down onto him, ecstasy pending. 

He looks so fucking pretty. Those intense, expressive eyes wild and rolling as his pleasure heightens under your motion. Salacious moans peppered with cuss words sound out each time he bottoms out inside you, and you welcome every delicious inch. You can’t resist bending down to bite at his bottom lip and drag your tongue over his mouth. 

He catches you, kissing you savagely, his breathing ragged and hard as he moans your name roughly. All thoughts of elongating this are out of the window, your composure blown apart by the sheer allure of Taehyung looking so wrecked under you. 

You lose yourself in your thrusts, his name on your lips shamelessly as your climax beckons. Taehyung fucks into you harder, his cock blooming within you, engorged and rock hard with arousal, precum seeping into your impatient, wet cunt. 

You double down your efforts, nails embedding themselves in his skin as you let him drill into you faster, joining your movements. Both of you move in sync, chasing the end goal, knowing all the pain would be forgotten the minute you succumbed and fell into that epic release. 

“You do it so good,” he whines. “You feel so good around me. So sweet and wet and tight.”

You feel his cock pulsing in you, he’s close. You reach down, curling a hand around his throat. His eyes widen momentarily, but he makes no effort to stop you. Instead he licks his lips. 

“Yes, baby−,” he groans. “Do it. I want you to.”

This new territory seems to have kicked his sensations up several gears, and you capitalise by increasing your speed further, your hand closing firmly around Taehyung’s neck, applying just a little pressure. 

“Don’t stop!” he whines. “Don’t stop, baby. Keep riding me. I’m gonna come so hard for you.”

“Good,” you murmur, feeling the vibrations of his deep voice against your palm, your body dangerously close to the verge of letting go. “But not before me.”

Your thumb presses against his pulse point, fingers now at his chin, on his lips. He’s responsive to your touch in a way that makes your heart flutter, emotion spilling over you at the way he trusts you. 

You lean down and kiss him. “You’re such a bad boy,” you whisper in his ear, your fingers locating one of his nipples and tweaking it. 

He takes your tongue between his teeth, sucking at it until you whimper. “Do that again,” he murmurs hotly against your mouth, kisses trailing over your jaw. 

You give him what wants, exchanging sides and taking his left nipple between your fingers, pinching slowly. The way he moans your name has you seizing up around his cock, aching to release. 

Taehyung reads your body like an open book. “Come for me,” he breathes. “I’m so close, baby.” 

Taehyung’s face is sinfully beautiful. From the rapture you see there, it’s not hard to believe that he had waited a long time for this. He mutters soft profanities, hips bucking into you, fingers holding fast onto your body, urging you to the finale. 

It’s half the arousal. 

Taehyung reaches between you, his long fingers finding the sensitive bud of your clit, flicking softly over it and making you cry out. He starts to stroke you, the feel of his fingers alongside his cock almost unbearable. 

Before long, you feel yourself on that last strait. The pleasure rises as you ride hard now,  the friction of his fingers against you leaving your body charged with the most delectable high as he moves quicker, applying more pressure. 

“God, yes,” you moan, the tight feeling working itself up inside you growing closer to snapping point. “Don’t stop, oh God! Fuck, Tae −I can’t, ng-uhh…”.

Your sounds become more animalistic as you lose yourself, abandoning your body to the sensations he is giving you. You come down harder, riding on as the coil within your gut is at its tautest edge. Taehyung’s cock hits that spot once, twice more, and all you feel is him engulfing you outside and in −and that’s when you lose control. 

Your climax bursts out of you violently, the spring inside you unravelling, shattering you all over Taehyung’s cock, your walls convulsing around him fiercely as your mind blanks, your hand squeezing harder at his neck.  

“Tae!” you cry, face flushing as your body thrashes uncontrollably like a fish out of water, the intensity of your contractions taking your breath away. “God −fuck!”

Taehyung holds you in place, continuing to fuck you through your release relentlessly. “Yes, baby,” he hums, voice taut and strained. “That feels so good. I love feeling you come on me.”

His thrusts go harder and faster in quick succession, and with a sharp cry, you feel his cock suddenly twitch and shudder as he lets go inside you. Despite being in the final throes of your own climax, you turn your attention to him. You love watching him come, the sight makes you want to finish again and again. 

“That’s it, baby,” you urge. “Let it go. Fill me up.”

He groans, hands on your breasts, squeezing as you milk every drop he gives you before he starts to soften and eventually slips out. You collapse onto his chest, letting him gather you close to him. It feels like an eternity before your breathing resumes normalcy and your body calms down. 

You can feel Taehyung’s strong heartbeat beneath your cheek beating strongly and you turn your face up. He looks down at you and gives you one of those adorable boxy grins. “You’re quite something,” he tells you. “Do you know that?”

You giggle. “You’d better not forget that.”

Taehyung’s face suddenly grows serious. “I thought about you so much,” he confesses. His voice catches, and you can hear the sincerity of his confession. “I thought these three weeks were never going to end. I missed you every single second of every day −nights too.”

You push back his stray bangs from his forehead and place a kiss on his lips. “You’re here now,” you say softly. “−So let’s make the most of it.” 

You nudge his nose with yours and he smiles that smile that makes him so terribly easy to love. “Ready for a shower…?”

thanks for reading • 𓂃𝜗𝜚

She turned her head, finding him much closer than she expected, his arm resting casually on the counter, his eyes locked on hers like he already knew her answer.

“Depends on who’s asking,” she said, matching his tone.

His mouth curved into something between a smirk and a dare. “Taehyung.”

He didn’t offer a hand. Just a name, like it was enough.

The bartender appeared, and without looking away from her, Taehyung ordered something—something expensive, judging by the slight raise of the bartender’s brow. Then he turned the glass toward her instead of himself.

“You strike me as someone who could use something stronger than… whatever that is,” he said, nodding at her drink.

Normally, she would have bristled. But there was something about him that made her lean into it instead of away.

One drink became two. Two became three. By the time they were leaning in close, shoulders brushing, his hand resting dangerously near her thigh, she’d stopped wondering why her pulse wouldn’t slow down.

When he finally said, “Wanna get out of here?” it wasn’t even a question.

They didn’t speak much on the walk to the hotel. The silence wasn’t awkward—if anything, it was charged. Y/N’s heels clicked against the pavement in quick rhythm, but Taehyung’s steps were slower, confident, like he knew exactly where this night was going and didn’t need to rush.

By the time the elevator doors slid shut, his hand was already at her waist, pulling her in until her back met the mirrored wall. His breath was warm against her ear when he spoke.

“You’ve been looking at me like you want me to ruin you all night,” he murmured, his tone low, dangerous.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t get the chance to answer—his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. His hands roamed like he had every right to touch her, sliding over her hips, gripping the curve of her ass through her dress. She gasped into the kiss when he squeezed, and he used the opening to lick into her mouth, deep and claiming.

When the elevator dinged, he pulled back just enough to smirk at her swollen lips. “Room 804. Move.”

She barely remembered the walk down the hall before they were inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Taehyung was on her instantly, spinning her so her back hit the door, his hands braced on either side of her head. “You like giving control away, sweetheart?”

Her pulse jumped. “Maybe.”

“That’s not an answer.” His hand slid up her thigh, dragging the hem of her dress with it. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and his grin widened like he’d been waiting for it.

The dress was gone before she could think about modesty, pooling at her feet while he drank in the sight of her. He didn’t bother hiding the hunger in his eyes as he pressed her against the door again, his thumb grazing her already-damp panties.

“Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “So wet for me already. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice breaking slightly.

“Not good enough.” He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes locked. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

That earned her a kiss so deep it stole the air from her lungs. He pulled her toward the bed, stripping off his own jacket and shirt on the way. His body was lean, toned, and every movement screamed cocky self-assurance.

When she reached for his belt, he caught her wrists, pushing her down onto the mattress. “Uh-uh. You don’t touch unless I say you can.”

He knelt between her thighs, dragging her panties down slowly, like he wanted her to squirm. When he tossed them aside, he spread her knees wide, his gaze dark and heavy as it roamed over her.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The words made heat pool low in her belly. She obeyed, and he smirked like she’d just handed him the win. His fingers were on her first—slow at the start, teasing—then rougher, curling deep until her back arched off the bed.

“Such a good little thing,” he murmured, watching her writhe. “You take my fingers so well. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

When she was a mess beneath him, he finally freed himself, the sight of him making her mouth go dry. He didn’t rush, just stroked himself lazily while looking her over like she was something he owned already.

Then he was over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other guiding himself to her entrance. “This is going to ruin you for anyone else.”

And he was right. The thrust was deep, hard, making her cry out. He fucked her like he had something to prove, his hips snapping against hers, each thrust punctuated by filthy praise and taunts—telling her how tight she was, how perfect she felt, how she was made for him to use.

When she clawed at his back, he caught her wrists again, pinning them above her head. “Stay still. Take it. That’s all you have to do.”

Her moans filled the room, mixing with the slap of skin and his ragged breathing. He bent down to bite her neck, licking over the mark after. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes—oh god—”

“Do it. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

When she did, it was intense, shattering, her body tightening around him in pulsing waves. He fucked her through it, groaning when he spilled inside her, his thrusts finally slowing.

He kissed her once more—slow this time—before pulling back, that smirk returning. “Told you. Ruined.”

Y/N woke to an empty bed.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the dent in the pillow where his head had been. The sheets smelled like him—clean soap, faint cologne, and something darker she couldn’t quite place. The memories from last night flashed back in sharp, heated fragments: the elevator, his hands, his voice in her ear telling her exactly what to do.

Her thighs ached in the best way.

Rolling onto her back, she caught sight of the clock. Late. She groaned, dragging herself up and finding her dress crumpled on the floor. There was no note. No phone number. Just the echo of his smirk burned into her brain.

By the time she slid into a booth at the little café near her apartment, her best friend, Mina, was already there—iced coffee in hand and a knowing grin on her face.

“You’re late,” Mina said, eyes dropping to Y/N’s oversized hoodie and messy hair. “And… you look like you just rolled out of bed. From someone else’s bed.”

Y/N bit her lip, sliding into the seat. “Okay, so… I might have had a night.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “Tell me everything.”

Y/N leaned in, lowering her voice even though the café wasn’t crowded. “Met him at the bar. Tall, hot, this stupid cocky smirk that should have been illegal. He bought me a drink and—” She stopped, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Mina, it was… the best sex of my life.”

“Oh my god.” Mina covered her mouth, then dropped her hand. “Details. Now.”

Y/N looked around once more before continuing. “He was… rough. But perfect. Said all the right things, like he could read my mind. At one point—” She paused, shivering at the memory. “At one point he looked at me and said ‘open up for me, sweetheart’. And I did. Like instantly. I didn’t even think.”

Mina fanned herself dramatically. “Okay, keep going.”

“He wouldn’t let me touch him unless he said so,” Y/N admitted, smirking a little. “And when I came, he—god—he told me he wanted to feel me fall apart around him. It was filthy. I loved every second of it.”

Mina shook her head, grinning. “So when’s round two?”

Y/N’s smirk faded just a little. “That’s the thing… when I woke up, he was gone. No note. No number. Nothing.”

Mina raised a brow. “Mysterious. Maybe he’ll pop up again.”

Y/N stirred her coffee, trying to hide how much she hoped so. “Yeah… maybe.”

But even as they switched topics, she knew she’d recognize that smirk anywhere—and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find him, or if she should run the other way if she did.

The sizzle of garlic in the pan filled her small kitchen, the scent curling warm and familiar through the air. Y/N moved lazily between the counter and the stove, wooden spoon in hand, humming faintly to herself. The TV was on in the living room, volume low—background noise she barely paid attention to most nights.

“…in other news, police are still investigating the underground street racing gang suspected in a string of high-end car thefts across the city…”

She half-listened, tossing the pasta into the pot, steam clouding up in front of her.

“…the group is believed to be highly organized, with members able to bypass advanced security systems in minutes. Authorities have yet to identify any suspects, but earlier this week, surveillance audio captured what they believe to be the gang’s leader…”

Her hand froze on the spoon.

“…the voice was recorded whispering something to himself while working to unlock a car. Investigators say it could be a personal quirk—possibly a code phrase. We warn viewers, the clip is faint but clear.”

She turned toward the living room without meaning to, her brows knitting together as the reporter continued.

And then—

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t grainy enough to hide the tone. That deep, low rumble. The way the word sweetheart curled at the edges, dripping with command.

Y/N’s whole body went rigid, the steam from the stove curling around her as her mind stuttered.

No. No, it couldn’t be—

But the moment it hit her ears, her body remembered. The weight of him above her. The heat of his breath against her ear. That exact same line, whispered while she lay beneath him, trembling, her back arching into his touch.

Her knees felt unsteady.

The anchor kept speaking, explaining how police hoped the clip might lead to tips from the public, but she barely heard a word. Her heart thudded in her chest as they played it again.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

She stumbled toward the couch, grabbing the remote with shaky fingers, rewinding. Playing it again. And again. Every repetition sent a sharp shiver down her spine.

It was him. It was Taehyung.

She sank onto the couch, her dinner forgotten in the kitchen, the only thing she could hear was his voice filling the quiet apartment—over and over—until it was impossible to deny the truth.

The man who’d given her the best night of her life was the leader of a gang the police couldn’t catch.

And she knew that voice better than anyone.

The garage smelled like motor oil and adrenaline. The hum of a stripped-down Nissan idled low in the background, the hood up, exposed wiring glinting under the harsh white lights. Taehyung was crouched beside it, a smudge of grease on his forearm, his focus razor-sharp on the delicate lock bypass he’d been perfecting.

The metallic click of the door opening announced Jimin before his voice did.

“They got your voice on tape,” Jimin said flatly, stepping inside.

Taehyung didn’t look up right away, just kept working, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Cops get lots of things on tape. Doesn’t mean they know what they’re listening to.”

Jimin leaned against the workbench, arms crossed. “This time, they’re playing it on the damn news.”

That made Taehyung pause. Slowly, he straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Let me hear it.”

Jimin pulled out his phone, scrolling, then hit play.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The voice—his voice—rolled out into the garage, low and intimate even in the grainy recording.

And Taehyung froze.

Because he remembered saying it. Not here. Not to himself over a lock. But to her. Weeks ago, her knees open under his hands, her eyes glassy with need, the little breathless yes she’d given him right after.

Heat flared low in his gut, memory slamming into him so hard it stole his breath.

Her soft gasps as he slid into her. The way she squeezed around him, so fucking tight it had him gritting his teeth. The sight of her arching under him, mouth falling open as she obeyed every filthy word he gave her.

He hadn’t been able to hook up with anyone since. Not for lack of trying—he’d had offers. But every time he touched someone else, it felt wrong. They weren’t her. They didn’t make his control slip the way she did.

He tossed the rag onto the bench and grabbed his jacket.

Jimin blinked. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Out,” Taehyung said, already heading for the door.

“That’s it? You’re not even gonna—”

“Lock up the garage when you’re done,” he cut in, not slowing.

Jimin’s voice followed him out. “You’re not telling me something.”

Taehyung didn’t bother answering. He was already in the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life. His mind wasn’t on the job, or the risk, or the cops—it was on Y/N. On the way she’d looked up at him that night. On the sound she’d made when he told her to open up for him.

And if she’d seen that news clip…

He pressed harder on the gas. He needed to see her.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came.

Y/N froze halfway through brushing her teeth, the sound echoing through her quiet apartment. No one came by this late. No one except—

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t need to look through the peephole. There was only one person who would knock like that—three firm raps, a pause, then two more.

She pulled on her robe, tying the belt tighter as she stepped into the hall. And there he was.

Taehyung stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, hood up, shadows hiding half his face. But his eyes… she’d know them anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low but steady.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You know why I’m here.”

She crossed her arms, the robe tugging tighter across her chest. “Do I?”

His gaze sharpened. “I know you know it’s me. It’s all over the news.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “The second I heard it… I knew.” She swallowed, fingers tightening on the robe belt. “It was you.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

“But I’m not going to tell anyone,” she continued. “I don’t care what you’ve done… it’s not my business. But it means we can’t—” She hesitated, the words catching. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

Something flickered in his expression—amusement, maybe, or defiance. Then he stepped closer, close enough for her to smell the faint trace of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body.

“You really think I’m going to walk away that easy?” he murmured.

Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. His mouth was hot, demanding, pulling a sharp gasp from her before she melted against him. Her hands were at his chest, meaning to push him back—but instead, they curled into his jacket as his tongue slid against hers, his body crowding hers into the doorframe.

She kissed him back. Hard. Like she’d been starving for it.

When she finally broke away, breathless, her hand pressed lightly to his chest—not shoving, but holding him there. “You have to stop coming here.”

He didn’t move for a beat, eyes locked on hers, lips curved in that infuriating smirk. But when she stepped back, he let her go.

She turned, retreating inside without looking back, the door clicking shut between them.

In the dark of her bedroom, she lay staring at the ceiling, heart still pounding.

What the hell was going on in her life?

----------------

The night air was thick with gasoline, smoke, and bass-heavy music that rattled the cracked pavement. Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, watching the chaos unfold.

Mina had dragged her here, bright-eyed with her new boyfriend in tow, gushing about how “street racing is way more fun than it sounds.” Y/N had almost said no. But maybe, she thought, it was time to put Taehyung firmly in the past. Maybe she could meet someone new tonight. Someone who didn’t vanish after wrecking her self-control, and definitely someone who wasn’t a walking red flag.

Engines roared at the starting line, headlights flaring against the dark. Y/N let her gaze wander over the lineup—sleek bodies of metal and chrome, paint jobs that gleamed under the scattered floodlights.

Then one particular car rolled forward.

It was impossible not to notice. Low to the ground, jet black with tinted windows that hid the driver completely—until the glass began to roll down.

Her stomach dropped.

Taehyung.

----------------------