BANGPINK ONESHOTS

Sweet night

Taennie, smut, enemies to lovers ( ? ), words

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, the scent of whiskey faint on his breath.
"You know,Jennie ," he murmured, his voice a smooth caress, "you're the star of every single one of my wet dreams. Your fiery spirit and sweet innocence are the perfect cocktail for my fantasies." His hand reached out, ghosting over the curve of her hip, lingering just long enough to make his intentions clear.

She tensed at his touch, but didn't pull away.
Her eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips. "Is that so, Tae?" she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm surprised you can even remember your own name after one of those legendary drunken binges of yours." She turned to face him, her hand reaching up to toy with the button on his shirt. "But tell me, do I ever win in these fantasies of yours?"
He chuckled low in his throat, his eyes never leaving hers. "Oh, you win alright," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Every. Single. Time." His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were almost touching. The heat between them grew palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the blood rushing to his cheeks. But Jennie was playing hard to get, and that just made the chase all the more thrilling. He leaned in, their faces mere inches apart, and whispered, "And when you do, it's explosive."

He watched her carefully, his eyes darkening with a hunger that was impossible to hide. The smell of her perfume, a delicate blend of jasmine and vanilla, filled his nostrils, making his head spin. He knew he had to tread carefully; Jennie was like a wild animal, fiercely independent and quick to bolt if spooked. But the way she leaned into his touch, the way her breath hitched when their eyes met, it told him she wasn't entirely immune to his charms.

He reached up, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. "But maybe," he said, his voice barely above a murmur,
"it's time to make some of those dreams a reality." He waited, his heart hammering, for her reaction. Would she push him away or lean into the kiss he so desperately wanted to claim?

Jennie's mirk grew wider as she felt his thumb on her jaw. She knew the game they were playing, the push and pull of desire and denial. But something in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability beneath the smoldering lust, made her pause. Her own heart skipped a beat, and she found herself leaning into his touch, her breath shallow. She searched his gaze, looking for some sign that he was serious, that this wasn't just another drunken confession to be forgotten by morning.
"Tae," she breathed, "you're not sober enough to know what you're saying." But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. They'd danced around this for too long, the tension between them a live wire ready to spark.

The room swirled around him as he stumbled into his apartment, the whiskey still burning a trail down his throat. Jennie's laughter echoed in his ears, taunting him with the taste of what could have been. He peeled off his clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap as he made his way to the bed, his mind still reeling from their encounter. He didn't remember much of the walk home, but the feel of her body against his was etched into his memory like a brand. He collapsed onto the bed, his thoughts a jumble of desire and regret. And as he drifted off to sleep, the lines between reality and fantasy began to blur.

In the dark embrace of sleep, tae's dreams took over, weaving a vivid tapestry of passion and longing. Jennie's smoldering gaze met his, her sweet breath hot against his skin. She was in his arms, her body moving with a liquid grace that made his pulse race. The dream was so real, so intense, that he could feel her heartbeat beneath his fingertips, the softness of her skin, the heat of her touch.
"Jen," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "I need you."

The next morning, Taehyung woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat and his heart racing. The dream still lingered in his mind, as vivid as if it had actually happened. He threw the covers off and stumbled to the bathroom, his legs feeling like jelly. As he splashed cold water on his face, he couldn't shake the image of Jennie from his thoughts. Her laughter, the way she'd felt in his arms, the promise in her eyes... It was torture. He'd never wanted someone so badly, and the knowledge that she was just beyond his reach was driving him mad.