One shots | Kim Taehyung

Part 1 | When you're insecure about your scars (re-edited) | KTH

The insistent chime of the doorbell cut through the air, sharp and sudden against the simmering symphony of dinner. You glanced at the clock, a secret smile blooming on your face. It was the exact moment you'd been anticipating all day, the melody that heralded his return.

With practiced ease, you doused the flame beneath the pot, the satisfying sizzle a farewell kiss to the day's solitude. A quick swipe of your hands against your apron, erasing the floury evidence of your culinary creation, and you were off.

The door swung open, revealing a vision bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. There he stood, Kim Taehyung, his smile a mirror reflecting the warmth radiating from your own heart. The air crackled with unspoken greetings, a language only the two of you understood.

He stepped inside, the scent of you - a comforting blend of cinnamon and sunshine - washing over him like a homecoming song. You yielded a space for him to enter, a silent invitation readily accepted. His briefcase landed with a soft thud on the nearby table, a mere formality before his true purpose unfolded.

Then, in a single, fluid motion, he was there, arms encircling your waist, pulling you close. The familiar warmth of his embrace was a homecoming in itself, a haven carved from the chaos of the day. You melted into him, the world fading away into a gentle blur.

The warmth of his embrace seeped into you, a molten tide washing away the day's stress. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, their wings fluttering wildly as his breath danced across your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. A shiver of another kind danced across your skin when he nuzzled in, inhaling your scent. It was a primal claim, a possessive sigh that spoke volumes of his addiction to you.

This embrace, this ritual greeting after a day apart, was a habit born from the early months of your marriage. Now, it was a necessity, a grounding force that brought you both back to center.

He pulled back, a slow, reluctant movement that left you yearning for more. His smile was a mischievous glint, a playful challenge that made your cheeks heat with a familiar shyness.

"Did you miss me?" he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent a delicious tremor through you.

You pressed your lips together, a silent battle raging between wanting to confess the storm of emotions churning within and the delightful ache of holding back. A single, hesitant nod escaped your lips, a victory for shyness but a betrayal of your heart.

He let out a rich chuckle, the sound washing over you like warm honey. It was a sound that spoke of understanding, of a love that reveled in both your grand pronouncements and your quiet adorations.

The day's weariness seemed to melt away as his eyes met yours. "How was your day?" you inquired, your voice laced with a tenderness reserved only for him.

He leaned against the wall, his hand brushing against the cool plaster as he unlaced his shoes. A sigh escaped his lips, a weary murmur. "Back-to-back meetings," he grumbled, a hint of playfulness peeking through his exhaustion. "But it's okay as long as I'm home now."

His words sent a wave of warmth through you. You crossed the space between you, the scent of his cologne - a familiar comfort, a whisper of the man he was - washing over you. With practiced ease, you helped him remove his jacket, the simple act a silent conversation, a language spoken only by the two of you.

"You must be tired," you murmured, your gaze lingering on the dark circles beneath his eyes. A question formed on your lips, a silent plea for him to prioritize his well-being.

He settled onto the couch, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he rolled up his sleeves. A flicker of concern crossed your face, a silent question he readily understood. "Just a little," he admitted, his voice a husky murmur. "But the thought of dinner keeps me going."