Taekook (Short Stories)
My Husband
Me and my mixed-race husband have been married for three months and are invited to a friend's party.
At the party, I am very popular.
After the party, I return to the hotel, and my husband doesn't seem very happy...
Jeon Taehyung
I walk over to him "Are you okay?"
He takes a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he glares at me with cold, narrowed eyes
Jeon Jungkook
"Am I okay? Really? That's what you're asking me after the way you were acting tonight?"
His voice is low and dangerous, laced with barely contained anger
Jeon Jungkook
"You were all over everyone at that party. Laughing, touching, letting them get too damn close. Do you even remember you have a husband?"
He crushes the cigarette in the ashtray with more force than necessary, his jaw clenched tight
Jeon Jungkook
"Tell me, mi amor. Did you enjoy the attention that much?"
His tone is mocking, but there's a possessive edge to it—like he's barely holding back from grabbing me and making sure I never forget who I belong to.
Jeon Taehyung
I flinch back, my own anger rising "What are you talking about?"
He suddenly stands up, towering over me, his muscular frame casting a shadow as he steps closer, his voice dripping with venom
Jeon Jungkook
"What am I talking about? Every single man at that party had their hands on you. You think I didn’t see? You think I'm blind?"
His fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to grab me but is forcing himself to stay composed.
Jeon Jungkook
"You were flirting. Smiling. Laughing at their stupid jokes likes they were the funniest thing you’ve ever heard."
He scoffs, his dark eyes burning into mine.
Jeon Jungkook
"Tell me, mi reina, do I bore you now? Is that why you need their attention?"
His voice is dangerously quiet now, daring me to lie to him.
Jeon Taehyung
You're wrong! I wasn't flirting!" My voice trembles, but I stand my ground.
He lets out a cold, humorless laugh, stepping even closer until I can feel the heat of his anger radiating off him.
Jeon Jungkook
"Oh, so now I'm wrong?"
His hand suddenly grips my chin, forcing me to look at him—not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough to make sure I don’t look away.
Jeon Jungkook
"Then explain to me why his hand was on your waist. Why he was whispering in your ear like you were his."
His voice drops to a growl, possessive and raw.
Jeon Jungkook
"You’re mine. Or did you forget that the second someone else looked at you?"
His grip tightens slightly, his dark eyes searching me for any sign of guilt.
Jeon Taehyung
I didn't forget! I'm yours!" My voice cracks under his gaze.
His grip loosens slightly, but his expression remains hard, unreadable. He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw still tense.
Jeon Jungkook
"Then act like it."
His voice is low, almost a growl, but there's something beneath the anger—something vulnerable, something desperate.
Jeon Jungkook
"I don’t share. Not my time, not my attention, and especially not my wife."
His thumb brushes over my lips possessively before he finally lets go, stepping back to light another cigarette with slightly unsteady hands.
Jeon Jungkook
"Next time, remember who you belong to. Or I’ll make damn sure you do."
The threat in his voice is clear, but so is the unspoken plea—don’t make me lose control.
Jeon Taehyung
I watch him, my own breath still shaky as I press my lips together. "I know who I belong to."
His thumb traces my cheekbone once more before he drops his hand, taking a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out.
The word is rough but satisfied, like a predator appeased—for now. He turns away, rolling his shoulders as if physically shedding the last of his anger, and heads toward the minibar. He pours two glasses of red wine without asking, the rich liquid catching the dim hotel light. One glass is pushed toward me silently, his dark eyes holding my as he raises his own in a wordless toast—to obedience, to possession, to us.
Not a request. A command. "Conmigo."
Jeon Taehyung
My hand trembles slightly as I reach for the glass. "Okay."
His fingers curl around his own glass, the deep red wine swirling as he watches you take the first sip. His gaze is heavy, unrelenting—like he’s marking the moment, making sure I remember this, too. He drinks slowly, never breaking eye contact, the silence between us thick with something unsaid. Then, setting his glass down with deliberate calm, he closes the distance between us in one stride. One hand grips my waist, pulling me flush against him, his other hand tilting my chin up.
Jeon Jungkook
"Next time I have to remind you,"
his voice is a low, dangerous murmur against my lips.
Jeon Jungkook
"it won’t be with words."
Jeon Taehyung
My breath hitches, a silent "yes" forming on my lips.
His grip tightens, his lips brushing mine in a whisper of a kiss—more threat than affection. "Bueno." He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with me, his own dark with possession.
Jeon Jungkook
"Now finish your wine. We’re going to bed."
Another command. Another unspoken rule. And when his hand slides down to intertwine with mine, his fingers squeezing just a fraction too tight, you know— This isn’t over.
Jeon Taehyung
My gaze drops to the wine, then back to you. "Yes, mi amor."
My Husband
The corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smile, but something satisfied, primal. He lifts my joined hands, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to my knuckles, his teeth grazing skin just enough to make me shiver.
Jeon Jungkook
"Eso es mi buena niña." (that's my good girl)
His voice is a dark purr, the praise laced with warning. He downs the rest of his wine in one swallow, then takes mine from my trembling fingers and does the same. The empty glasses clink as he sets them aside, his free hand already guiding me toward the bedroom— Because tonight, he’ll make sure I don’t forget. Not the way his hands claim me. Not the way his voice sounds when he growls my name. And certainly not who I belong to.
Jeon Taehyung
I follow, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm.
The moment the bedroom door shuts behind me, his control snaps. He spins me around, pinning me against the wall with his body, one hand caging my wrist above my head. His breath is hot against my ear, ragged with barely leashed intensity.
Jeon Jungkook
"Tell me again," he demands, voice rough. "¿De quién eres?" (who do you belong to)
His free hand slides possessively down my side, fingers digging in just enough to bruise—a brand, a reminder. Because tonight, he doesn’t just want my words. He wants my surrender.
Jeon Taehyung
A gasp escapes me. "Yours."
A low, satisfied growl rumbles in his chest as his lips crash against mine — Not a kiss. A claiming. When he finally pulls back, his pupils are blown wide, his breath uneven. He drags his thumb over my swollen lips, his voice a dark promise
Jeon Jungkook
"Sí. Mía." (yes, mine)
Then his hands are everywhere, stripping away fabric, leaving marks in their wake— Because tonight, he’ll make sure the whole world knows.
Jeon Taehyung
I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping. "Yes. All yours."
His growl is feral, vibrating against my skin as he bites down—hard—on the junction of my neck and shoulder.
Jeon Jungkook
"Más." (mine)
A demand, hissed against the sting. His hands drag me closer, my body flush against his, every hard line of him pressing into me like a brand. When his lips crash back onto mine, it’s all teeth and tongue and possession— No softness. No mercy. Just him, claiming what’s his.
Jeon Taehyung
A gasp rips from my throat as I arch into the bite, my fingers digging into your shoulders. "Yes! More!"
He snarls, flipping me onto the bed with a roughness that borders on violence, his body covering mine in an instant. .
Jeon Jungkook
"Tú me vuelves loco," (you drive me crazy)
He grits out, hands pinning my wrists above my head as he stares down at me—wild, untamed, his control in tatters. And when he finally takes me, it’s with a single, brutal thrust— No patience. No gentleness. Just the raw, unforgiving truth of his claim. Because tonight, I’ll feel exactly who I belong to.
MY Husband
Jeon Taehyung
A choked gasp escapes me as the impact steals my breath. "Yes!"
His grip on my wrists tightens to the point of pain, his hips snapping forward again—relentless, punishing, as if he’s trying to carve his name into my very bones.
Jeon Jungkook
"Grita mi nombre," (scream my name)
he orders, voice shredded with lust and something darker.
Jeon Jungkook
"Déjales oír a quién le perteneces." (let them her who you belong to)
Every thrust is a demand, every ragged breath a vow— I'm his. His to ruin. His to own. And when my nails rake down his back, drawing blood, he only growls— "MÁS."
“The air between them grew heavier, charged with emotion and desire. Every glance, every touch, spoke louder than words. What began as a party ended as a memory they would never forget, binding them closer in love, passion, and endless devotion.”
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