The Muse He Rented

"Their love was a script he commissioned, yet his heart kept rewriting the lines without permission."

...****************...

              Character Introduction

...****************...

KIM TAEHYUNG

Age: 18 years

High school Student.

Lives with his Aunt's Family.

Science Major.

JEON JUNGKOOK

Age : 18 years

High school student.

Lives in dorm

Arts Major.

Furthermore characters information will be given in Chapters. So i won't include any of the side character with mains.

THIS IS PURELY MY IDEA. EVERY CONTEXT AND EVERY SCENE. EVERY LOVE.

PC: every picture to it's original owner.

This story contains:

BOY×BOY

Contract issues

Fluff

Angst(little)

Some trauma incident.

Ofcourse Smut

College life.

More cute

More love

More sweet.

Family issues

• Topkook

• Bottomtae

Hope you enjoy the book moreeee..........

____________________________________________________________________________

...----------------...

...----------------...

...----------------...

👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

Jungkook sat in the far corner of the art room, partially hidden behind an easel, sketchbook balanced on his knee. The room smelled faintly of turpentine and pencil shavings, a scent he usually found comforting, but today it did little to settle the storm brewing in his mind. His pencil hovered above the blank page, untouched for the last ten minutes. Around him, his classmates buzzed with conversation, laughter bouncing off the paint-streaked walls.

Ms. Choi stood at the front of the room, adjusting her glasses as she flipped through a thick folder of notes. She cleared her throat, and the room quieted slightly.

“Alright, everyone,” she began, her tone firm but not unkind, “for your semester-end project, I want something personal. You’ll be drawing a live model—someone you know well. It could be a close friend, a boyfriend or girlfriend, even a sibling if that works. But choose someone you’re emotionally connected to. I want you to capture not just their anatomy, but their personality. Who they are.”

A collective murmur rippled through the class. Some students perked up immediately, already whispering to their seatmates, excited to ask their partners or best friends. A girl behind Jungkook giggled and tapped her bestie on the shoulder, already planning poses.

Jungkook stayed silent.

He stared at his sketchbook, the page still as white and blank as his mind felt. A small frown tugged at his lips. He wasn’t shy—not exactly. But the idea of inviting someone into this vulnerable creative space felt foreign. Intimate, even. And his personal life… well, it wasn’t exactly bursting with options. He kept to himself by choice, though it didn’t stop the others from making assumptions.

Just as he reached to finally draw something, a voice cut through the hum of conversation like a knife.

“Yo, Jungkook,” Jisung called, reclining dramatically in his chair with a cocky smirk. “Guess you’ll just be drawing air, huh? Since you don’t have a boyfriend, girlfriend, or, well… anyone.”

A few students chuckled. The ones who always hovered on the edge of Jisung’s jokes, waiting for someone else to be the punchline.

Jungkook didn’t even blink. His eyes stayed on his sketchbook, though his grip on the pencil subtly tightened.

He’d heard worse. Jisung always had a mouth on him—liked to jab where it stung just enough to provoke a reaction.

But not today.

Jungkook slowly looked up, locking eyes with Jisung from across the room. His gaze was cool, unreadable, and sharp enough to cut through the noise.

“I’ll find someone,” he said, voice low and calm. “I don’t need to broadcast my life to the whole room just to prove I have one.”

The laughter died down. A few heads turned in surprise. Even Ms. Choi looked up from her folder, pausing for a beat.

Jisung blinked, clearly thrown off. “Tch. Alright, Mr. Mysterious,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sure.”

Jungkook leaned back in his seat, letting his pencil fall gently across the blank page. A faint smile tugged at one corner of his lips—not smug, but sure. He didn’t need to fight to win. He just had to stay grounded.

The truth was, he could ask anyone. Girls had slipped him their numbers on the back of napkins and art supplies more times than he could count. Some guys too. It wasn’t about availability.

It was about connection.

That was the part no one ever seemed to understand.

He didn’t want a body to draw. He wanted something real. Something that would make his pencil move with intention, that would bring the page to life.

But that kind of connection… that was rare. And not something he could summon just to prove a point.

Still, he’d find someone. He always did.

As the class resumed their chatter and Ms. Choi began moving between easels, Jungkook tilted his head, finally sketching a faint line on the page. Just the start of a silhouette. Undefined. Waiting.

But maybe—just maybe—not for long.

____________________________________________________________________________

Hope you guys liked this chapter.....I will make it much more better in further chapters. Like and leave a comment, To make me the happiest. 💌

Ignore the mistakes.

Enjoy Reading.

The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. A soft orange glow lingered along the skyline, bathing the streets in honeyed light. Taehyung walked slowly down the cracked sidewalk, a small convenience store bag dangling loosely from one hand. The corner of a triangular kimbap poked out, along with a bottle of strawberry milk that was already slick with condensation.

His friend, who had accompanied him halfway from school, had turned off two blocks earlier with a lazy wave. “See you tomorrow, Taehyung!” he’d called, earbuds already in place as he disappeared around the corner.

Now, Taehyung was alone with the gentle hush of evening—faint chirps of cicadas in the trees, the occasional bark of a dog, and the distant honk of a car heading somewhere far more exciting than his destination.

When he reached the modest house tucked behind a low fence, he pushed open the familiar rusted gate. It creaked slightly, like always. This was the home he’d lived in since he was ten—his aunt’s house. The scent of dinner floated through the air as he stepped onto the porch, something savory, warm, and unmistakably home.

The front door creaked open before he could knock.

“Tae-hyung!” came the delighted squeal of his young cousin as she sprinted down the hallway, socked feet slipping slightly on the wooden floor. She collided with him at the waist, wrapping her small arms around his middle. A dusting of flour smudged one cheek, and her hair was tied up in a lopsided ponytail.

He chuckled, ruffling her head gently. “I got you something,” he said, fishing into the bag. “Strawberry milk.”

Her eyes widened, hands flapping excitedly. “Really?! Yay!” She snatched it up and bolted for the kitchen. “Mommy! Tae hyungie got me milk!”

A moment later, his aunt appeared in the doorway, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She looked tired but smiled when she saw him.

“You shouldn’t spend your money on little things like that,” she chided gently, but her tone was more affectionate than stern. “Come eat. Dinner’s almost ready.”

He offered a small nod and a smile, slipping off his shoes without a word.

That night, the house was quiet. The dishes had been washed, his cousin was asleep with her favorite stuffed bunny tucked under one arm, and the soft hum of the fridge echoed faintly from the kitchen.

Taehyung moved quietly down the hallway, headed for a glass of water, when he caught the low murmur of voices through a cracked bedroom door.

His uncle’s voice was quiet but laced with tension. “...and Taehyung’s tuition? How long can we keep this up, Hyejin? Jinie’s fees from London already drain us every month. I just don’t want the boy to feel he has to drop out because of us…”

Taehyung froze.

For a moment, the hallway felt too still, too close. He took a step back instinctively, the hardwood cold against his bare feet. He didn’t need to hear any more. Slowly, he turned and padded back to his room, the glass of water forgotten.

Inside, he sat on the edge of his bed, the mattress sagging slightly beneath him. He leaned back until his head met the cool wall, eyes fixed on the ceiling above.

The words echoed in his head.

“Drop out because of us.”

He’d always known—deep down—that he was an added weight. Never said out loud, but carried in small gestures. The too-kind smiles. The extra spoonfuls of food passed his way. The way his uncle always paused just a little too long when looking at bills.

He was loved, yes. But he was also... an expense.

His fingers curled around the blanket beneath him.

I can’t keep doing this to them, he thought bitterly. They’ve done so much. Taken me in, raised me like their own. I’m not even really their responsibility anymore.

He’d applied for the dorms over and over again, hoping to earn even a tiny bit of independence. But the waiting list was always full, and rejection emails had piled up like fallen leaves.

His gaze drifted toward the corner where his cousin’s drawing of the family hung on the wall—stick figures holding hands, labeled in crooked letters: Mommy, Daddy, Me, and Tae-hyung.

He exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the ache in his chest.

The strawberry milk was probably already half-empty, her happy squeals still echoing in his mind.

Even if he felt like a burden... they never made him feel like one.

And somehow, that made it hurt worse.

___________________________________________________________________________

Is this story going good? Or should I write it in Chat story style? Tell me guysssss!!!!

VOTE ANE COMMENT 💟