UNDER HIS TERMS || TAEJIN FF

𝓐/𝓝 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮

Ahem ahem.... so, another bratty-ass Seokjin and a green-flag Taehyung are officially entering the household, hehe... And when I said Seokjin's character is an ass... I genuinely meant it in every possible way 😭✋🏻 At least Forced Vows Seokjin had his reasons for being an asshole, but this Seokjin? Bro is simply a spoiled brat who has always gotten whatever he wanted and has pretty much been allowed to do whatever he pleases!! So yeah... his character might genuinely test your patience and possibly give you high blood pressure 🤡🙏🏻... I honestly have no idea whether you all are going to love him or want to throw him out of the story 😭, but I really hope you'll give this new journey the same love and support that you've given to all my other stories. 🤍✨....So that's it, loveliesss! I won't yapp any further... Let's dive straight into this new journey together. 🥹🌸
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Prologue

The scent of antiseptic always smelled like his defeat.

For Kim Taehyung, a man who had measured out the last three years of his life in strict 9-to-5 increments, spreadsheet rows, and the steady, predictable hum of corporate fluorescent lights, the hospital corridor was a sudden, violent fracture in his reality.

He stood just outside Room 304, his forehead pressed against the cool, painted drywall. His knuckles were white where he gripped his leather briefcase-the one his parents had bought him with the very last of their savings when he passed his corporate entrance exams.

"An advanced stage," the doctor's voice still echoed in his ears, clinical and detached. "The surgery needs to happen within the month. But the specialized equipment, the post-op care... the deposit alone is fifty million won."

Fifty million won.

Taehyung closed his eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He had just signed the papers for their new house last month. The monthly EMIs took a massive chunk of his salary. He had been planning to save for a modest car next, so his aging father wouldn't have to carry heavy crates at the vegetable market anymore.

He had been so close to finally giving them the peace they had bled for when they left the countryside for Seoul.

Now, the foundation was crumbling.

"Don't look like that, Son," his father had whispered inside the room, trying to force a smile despite his trembling hands. "We will figure it out. A loan, or maybe sell the shop lease... don't carry this on your shoulders."

But Taehyung knew. There were no more loans to take. There was no more blood to squeeze from the store. He had swallowed his tears, bowed respectfully, and promised his father he would handle it.

He had to handle it. He was the son, their sole responsibility.

The next morning, the glass doors of Jung Enterprises felt heavier than usual.

Taehyung walked through the lobby with his head bowed, a ghost in a perfectly pressed, inexpensive gray suit. He hadn't slept. His mind was a chaotic spreadsheet of numbers, interest rates, and survival tactics. He desperately needed a distraction, something to keep his hands from shaking before his 9:00 AM presentation.

He stopped by the breakroom, pouring a cup of iced black coffee. Fixing his glasses with one finger, his mind entirely consumed by the image of his mother pale in that hospital bed, he turned around and stepped out into the main corridor.

He never saw the storm coming.

Oof!

A sharp collision sent Taehyung stumbling backward.

The plastic cup slipped from his fingers, flipping through the air. A dark, icy wave of caffeine splashed forward, splattering directly across a pristine, silk cream-colored designer shirt.

"Ah! Shit! What the fuck?!"

The voice was a sharp, biting melody, dripping with immediate venom.

Taehyung's heart dropped into his stomach. "I-I am so sorry, I wasn't looking-" He frantically reached into his pocket for a tissue, his eyes instinctively lifting to apologize.

The words caught in his throat.

Standing in front of him was Jung Seokjin.

Seoul's most elite, ethereal model and the CEO's youngest, most notoriously spoiled son.

Up close, Seokjin looked less like a man and more like an arrogant deity sculpted from pure, feminine grace.

His full lips were curled into a disgusted sneer, and his dark eyes flashed with an ugly, bratty rage as he looked down at his ruined outfit.

"Are you fucking blind?!" Seokjin hissed, plucking the wet fabric away from his chest with two manicured fingers. "Do you have any idea how much this shirt costs? It's a custom piece! You piece of trash, you just ruined my entire day!"

"I am incredibly sorry, sir, I will pay for the dry cleaning-"

"Dry cleaning?!" Seokjin laughed, a mocking, harsh sound that drew the eyes of every single employee in the hallway. "This is a million-won silk, you idiot. Your entire wardrobe couldn't buy a sleeve of this shirt."

Taehyung shrank back, his face burning, the weight of his mother's illness and this sudden humiliation crushing him simultaneously. He kept his head bowed, enduring the curses.

Before Seokjin could unleash another insult, a sharp footsteps echoed down the hall. Seokjin's personal secretary appeared, breathless and pale.

"Master Seokjin! Please, your father is waiting in the executive boardroom. Master Jungkook and Chairman Jeon have already arrived. We must go right now."

Seokjin let out a loud, dramatic groan, rolling his eyes so hard it looked painful. "Ugh! Tell my father I'm not marrying that muscle-bound idiot! Jungkook already has a boyfriend anyway, why is everyone trying to ruin my life?!"

"Sir, please-the Chairman is furious," the secretary practically begged, grabbing Seokjin's arm to drag him toward the VIP elevators.

Seokjin stumbled along, but right before the elevator doors opened, he stopped. He snapped his head back, his sharp, calculating eyes landing squarely on Taehyung, who was still standing there frozen, holding a napkin.

Seokjin scanned the quiet, nerdy man from head to toe. He took in the tight grip of Taehyung's broad shoulders under that cheap suit, the sharp line of his jaw beneath the glasses, and the sheer, helpless desperation rolling off him.

A sudden, wicked, and incredibly twisted spark ignited in Seokjin's eyes.

An arranged marriage to that fuckass heir?

Absolutely not.

Seokjin wanted to explore, he wanted chaos, and looking at this trembling, disciplined corporate mouse... a very dirty, thrilling idea began to form in his mind.

"You," Seokjin pointed a sharp finger at Taehyung, a dangerous, beautiful smirk slowly spreading across his lips. "Don't you dare leave this building. You owe me. And I think I just figured out exactly how you're going to pay me back."

With a dramatic spin, Seokjin stepped into the elevator, leaving Taehyung alone in the hallway, entirely unaware that his life was about to be turned completely upside down.