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wip of an artwork with Marcille and Falin from Dungeon Meshi
Memoirs of the Broken People
Pairing: JaehyunX Reader
Genre: Soulmate Au/Angst/Fluff/Historical
Word Count: 9k
Summary: History used to be your favorite class of the day. Used to. But that was before the visions, the lashing out and the incredible, undeniable heartache that erupted every day. History was Jaehyun’s least favorite class too.
Author’s note: Goddamn, where have I been? IT’S BEEN FOREVER! How are all of you? I’m back from hell and better than ever! Jkjk, anyways, I’ve been super obsessed with NCT lately, especially Taeyong, so ironically I write about Jaehyun apparently??? Anyways! Requests are open still, but I can’t promise I’ll get it done super fast since I’m on vacation. Anywho, Enjoy this piece of shit I just wrote!
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Muse | Painter AU! Taeyong (M)
Description: “You are the apple of my eye, the stars in my sky; you are my muse, and most importantly, you are mine.”
Safe. In all ways, you have always played it safe, never taking risks. However, your stagnant world is shaken up when abstract painter Lee Taeyong propositions to you in the middle of an art galley.
Genre: angst | fluff | humor WC: 18.8k Warnings: graphic smut (virginity loss, rough sex, oral sex, unprotected, 69, etc), profanity
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Kismet.2 ♡
Pairing: Lee Taeyong ♡ Female!Reader Genre: Cross-cultural relationship au + baker!Taeyong // fluff // smut. Warnings: (All conversations in full italics are spoken in Korean), profanities, fingering, unprotected sex. Words: 9,320. Summary: Everything is still brand new; touches are electric, kisses are breathtaking, the moon shines brighter, and the sun - incandescent. Taeyong sets your heart alight and sprinkles sugar atop your morning dew. He blooms within your mind until you can’t fathom a moment without him. ; Happy Birthday, my love.
Playlist
Present Day, June.
The bath water is regrettably growing more cold by the second, no matter how warm your bodies are beneath it. Oil sits atop the ripples, essence of lavender seeping into your skin, slicking your hair, painting your nails shiny. Taeyong insists on keeping you near, even as you’re close as can be and sat between his legs, he keeps your hands intertwined, lips against your shoulder.
It seemed as though everything had been passing in a lush, rose-tinted blur as of late. As you find yourself already celebrating another month living in the country you now referred to as home. You had been granted your permanent employment, your trial period successfully achieved as June neared its end, and Taeyong immediately took it as reason for celebration. Meeting you home with a custom cake lovingly hand-made during hours where he was meant to have been attending to the bakery’s broken air-conditioner.
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recently played thru the fd again...luv these two sm
Happy @wayfarer-exchange reveal day!! Featuring @qkayoo‘s Thistle having a nice day out looking for books. I hope you’ll like it! ^^
I'm in love with the slime man there I said it!!
THE END OF CHAPTER 1
happy 9 years bangtan, thank you for always taking care of us through your words, actions and music ♡ / insp
JABHAKSBAKA oh my gosh someone said this in the comments and i appreciate them for it but JADE the fact that this is told from
✨ his ✨
pov and not reader’s pov is BRILLIANT and causing me DEVASTATION
i love the journey of him figuring out that all is NOT okay in the house of the commons (which like WOOF owww yikes) but it’s incredibleeee
just the simple juxtaposition of him not wasting time to get out of the car, that all he wants is to be filled up and recharged with the comfort that reader provides to the absolute OPPOSITE that he is greeted with
the line about he flipped a switch but the light didn’t turn back on in reader’s eyes (AHHHH!!!!!!)
the pain of the dropping a full name instead of whatever pet name we all know they have for each other
the utter CJNWNAKSWJI of it all this is so well crafted jade you’re a mastermind!!!!
Jadie:) i would like to make a request!!
Reader having to spent countless night home alone because Jungkook’s busy working at the studio? They fight and she asks him to love her more than she loves him?
Honestly i feel like JK gets frustrated with fights so he says things that come out in a different way?? Thank you so much!!!!
i went in with the angst on this one 😳 i think most of us have had similar fights before, so i was definitely channeling some of that something here OPE
cw: verbal sparring, major angst, ending is ambiguous/unresolved
By the time his car rolls into the driveway, Jungkook has nothing left to give.
A vampire disguised as a weekday sapped every bit of energy he had left. His reserve tank is empty, and when he’s running on fumes like this, there’s only one way to top up. All he wants — now, then, any time — is to bury his face where your neck meets your shoulder; to revel in your steady pulse and soft breathing; to remember that there’s life here, outside his studio.
He doesn’t waste time getting out of the car, having summoned the last bit of willpower he had to unbuckle his seatbelt and slip from the driver’s seat. Jungkook locks the car behind him and within seconds, he unlocks the door to his home. To you. It feels like forty years have passed since he left that morning, but he can still smell the kimchi from the eggs you cooked.
Did hours always used to feel like decades?
One foot over the threshold, the toe of his boot collides with something in the dark. His eyes strain to see it; and his eyebrows furrow once he does. It’s a weekender. Yours, the one he bought you to take on little getaways when your schedules aligned like planets. It’s packed and ready, but Jungkook can’t put a finger on why that is.
Did he forget about plans again? Fuck. His mind never used to be a sieve, but that’s all it’s been lately. Jungkook has to be careful not to let you slip by.
He toes off his shoes and places them on the mat on the other side of your packed bag. As he heads off to find you, kiss you, breathe you in, Jungkook takes one backwards glance at that weekender. Nothing sparks.
Where were we going again?
There’s rustling down the hall and he follows it. Underneath his timid footfalls, there’s the quiet metallic click of the medicine cabinet door as you close it. Jungkook can’t see you, but he can feel you — you and the upset ebbing outwards from you. Little concentric circles, rage rippling his way like a stone has broken through the surface.
I dropped you, again.
Jungkook reaches the doorway to the bathroom just in time for you to exit. You gasp when you collide with his chest, but that shock dissipates quickly when his hands steady you by your forearms. You clutch the bag of toiletries that you nearly dropped like it’s all you have.
The expression on your face is less obvious now that the surprise is absent — and that scares him.
“Whoa,” Jungkook tries to chuckle to lighten whatever this crushing weight is, but there’s no humor in your affect. Flat. Despondent, like you cried out all you had and there was nothing left to animate your features.
Oh, this is bad.
He needs to fix it, so he tries again, “Where’s the fire, petal?”
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jungkook flipped a switch alright, but it didn’t turn the light in your eyes back on. Ham-fisted and stuck in the garbage disposal as it —
“I don’t know, Jungkook. Where is the fire?” You have that tone when you reply. That rare and terrifying voice where you sound calm, but he can smell the venom hitting dead air.
You, petal, are soft, but you are not calm.
You’re excitable, vocal. Jungkook can count on one hand the number of times he’s heard you speak without your perfect, dizzying rollercoaster of intonation. It’s jarring, it’s whiplash, it’s clear as day that there’s something very wrong here.
What did I do to you?
“I’d love to know,” You carve another slice as you back out of his grip. “Haven’t felt warmth in weeks. What about you, Jungkook?”
He feels concussed, in a way, like this is somehow a sucker punch you’ve hit him with. It feels like a blow when you say his name with that look in your eyes, but Jungkook knows it’s not. He knows exactly where this is coming from and he doesn’t get to pretend otherwise.
Desperate, he tries to hold you, but it’s like running underwater trying to reach you. By the time his lead limbs finally accept the signal and begin to move, you’re skirting around him and out the door.
You’re quick, but so is he. Jungkook’s long strides catch up to you easily, and when you sense him, you wheel back around to look up at him. Now, your face is crumpled and littered with tears. It’s even worse than the nothing you were wearing a few moments ago.
Jungkook pleads, one teardrop away from getting on his knees for you, “Tell me what I missed and I’ll make it up to you, petal. I swear I’ll fix it —”
“That’s the thing, Jungkook,” you sniff as you angrily wipe at your slicked-wet cheekbone. The worst part is that he knows you’re beyond the point of anger when it comes to him; it’s the fact that he’s caught you crying that bothers you the most.
“You miss everything. And you know it, too, because your first guess — your very first thought — was that you must have forgotten about me — again. What does that tell you, Jungkook? What does it say about us that this is an easy assumption for you to make? Because it sounds like a habit to me.”
There’s a montage broadcasting through the silence that settles between you. It’s every ‘I’m sorry I’m late, petal’; every ‘petal, I’m going to be here longer than I thought’; and ‘you don’t have to wait up for me.’ It’s all of those disappointed sighs you tried to swallow when you gave him grace he hadn’t earned.
A soundtrack delineating every instance where you held him up and he let you down.
It’s deafening.
“I just want you —” Your voice gives up on you halfway through your sentence. He knows better than to reach out for you now, but it’s all he wants to do. “I need you — just once — to love me more than I love you.”
There’s that sucker punch.
How could he? How could anyone love harder than you do? It’s impossible, Jungkook thinks, to try to mimic the way your heart holds everyone so completely. Laughable, almost, that no person on their best day could hold a candle to you — even on your worst. He thinks you’re pure magic.
But Jungkook has never been the best at putting the things he thinks into words, so he says, “Petal, I can’t.”
And he can’t backtrack or explain what he meant or beg you to listen because you’re grabbing that weekender off the floor. You’re slinging it over your shoulder, headed to your sister’s for the night. As he watches you leave, Jungkook recalls that there’s one thing he’s even worse at than communicating how he feels:
Sleeping without you.
Rocking the Agent Mega jacket since 2010
