#bts smut fake text

A/N: I have this story originally on my new Wattpad account: @a_sad_pandas_corner, where I will poste the episodes of this series more frequently. So if you want to keep up with the story I recommend you read it there :).

Chapter: Pilot

Genre: Loverboy!Taehyung, Fluff, Angst, smut

Paring: Taehyung X reader

Word-count: 945

Warnings: Abuse, unjust, anxiety, force, loverboys, sexual abuse, swearing, sexual content,

Summary: Only few can keep the good and the bad people apart in one look. When your first look upon Kim Taehyung found place, you thought you knew which of the two he was. Some people are wrong in those moments and will move on, but you aren’t ‘some people’ and that has gotten you at wrong places.

Your face remains down as you hear the door open. Every second suddenly feels like 10 more as the time goes on. You’re just sitting there, fixated on your feet which are carefully crossing each other on the ground, your hands squishing the fabric of the unfamiliar sheets. You can see your bruises, handprints which now paint your skin. It’s all so unfamiliar. The only thing that does feel familiar is that feeling. The feeling you always have during these 'moments’. Your heart pounds like you’ve just ran three marathons. Your head spins and you can’t fixate. You know that doesn’t just happen, that’s not something you’d usually do. It must be something in that damn drink they always give me. Sweat begins to drip off of your face, though he told me so often to stop that. How can I stop it?

It’s common for you to have these kind of 'thoughts’ during these 'moments’. You call them 'moments’, because the correct words make your heart ache. You know what’s awaiting you and you know you will feel about a thousand times worse and terrified than you are right now.  If I just knew where I was. But you don’t and it wouldn’t matter if you did know. He says I can’t know anything, and that’s what you will go with. Knowing nothing will always be better than knowing something, certainly in this industry.

The door closes. finally, Just get it over with already.

The time it takes for these men to close the door, is nothing compared with the time they take to have to walk to you. It’s the moment they slowly reveal their ugly selves.  They have zero shame for the things they do to girls like you. Though they are 'costumers’, it’s well known this isn’t legal. These girls aren’t allegedly letting themselves getting punched, tortured and sexual abused. They know what they are doing, but they don’t really give a fuck. And here you are, right on the spot where no fucks were given and you are the one getting literally nothing out of it besides hurt.

It has been about 2 days since you’ve been here, since that 'person’ had taken you to this place. It had been about 12 days since you even met this person and began to trust him. It’s so easy to fall for lies from others. So easy to fool others and get profit out of it. You knew this world excised, but more like 10 years ago. They were just stories and happened to a couple of girls around the country, you thought. But that It’d ever would’ve happened to you wouldn’t be something you would’ve expected. But here you are, in an unknown bed. Your own familiar clothes burned to ashes, letting you only wear the slightest of lingerie. Forcing you to lay there, chained up in this bed and letting men use you for nights-and-nights on. If you could choose between death and this, it wouldn’t be a hard choice anymore, if you were to ever get to a balcony. Or if they even have a balcony. Am I even in the city?

You slowly dare to look up at the man. He is tall, probably about mid-40s. His face is pale and tired. He could be someone’s father or husband, but no, he is in this room waiting for you to stand up and let him use you the way he wants to. Or maybe he is one of those gentle customers, though that isn’t common. With you, in your 2-day experiences, that hasn’t happened yet. Other girls in the building would be all happy when they had a 'softy’ and they would have finally been treated like a 'princes’ again. For these girls it has been too long. Too long that they had been suffered through these people and it has become the only thing they know. I need to stop fucking thinking. Thinking makes you feel just miserable. You will realise, over-and-over again, how bad your situation is. How bad you miss your family, your life. How much you regret you’ve chosen the wrong fucking guy. You could’ve just looked a little bit further than that fucking face of his, there must have been signs. How could you ever let this happen to you, why couldn’t you have been more careful?

Train of thoughts, which all these are, they will go away. Just like the saying goes: they are like trains. They come on by in a high speed, wheels making loud noises, making you feel nervous. The moment it passes you, you feel overwhelmed and a bit shaky, because the train is going so-so fast. It’s almost when it’s gone, that you’ve realized it was just a train and it’s nothing to be overwhelmed about. It passes like any other thought, it’s just a bit more scary than others. You just need to remind yourself to stay calm, then nothing will go wrong. But can it even get more wrong than the situation you’re already in and can’t get out?  

'Hi sweetheart, you ready?’

You again look up at the big man. He is unbuttoning his blouse, dark eyes on his face as he does so. You feel all kinds of shivers running through your body as he seems to undress you with those bleak eyes, your alarm bells are going off like crazy upon seeing this man disclosing himself. Your body screams for you to stand up and walk right out of that door. But fuck, you know better. You know better than to walk out of there and let those men push you straight back inside. You know it is no use; you will only make it worse. They will make you worse.

'Why don’t you get on your knees?’

And it starts.

I guess I’ve become a emo now, but I don’t mind some depth in my work :)