#the living together and kth having someone else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Text

she, by proxy | myg, kth

(or, the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.)

✤ pairing: yoongi x reader; taehyung x reader; yoongi x taehyung ✤ genre: est. relationship (yoongi x reader), pwp ✤ rating: explicit; minors dni ✤ warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking but no one's drunk, a friend group in which everyone is queer and has fucked at least once probably, taehyung is a messy hoe but yoongi's an entire disaster, pining, open relationships, polyamory that is discussed briefly, i have been told there are some feelings involved. the most important: there is gay stuff in here!!! i repeat, some of this is VERY GAY! please do not read if that isn't your thing! ✤ smut warnings: girls making out, a threesome, dudes kissing, oral sex (m. receiving), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, taegi get pegged, dirty talk, dudes touching themselves a lot, come as lube (but there's also real lube dw), come eating, voyeurism, a lil slapping (thighs/clit), the dom/sub dynamics shift throughout the fic but mainly dom!reader, very mild degradation, a lil begging, taehyung cries, fingers always seem to wind up in mouths, hair pulling, frottage, yoongi accidentally gets edged, praise, protected sex, dp (fingers & piv at the same time). i think that's it :') but let me know if i forgot anything. ✤ word count: 8.3k ✤ credits: thank you to @effortandmore / @the-boy-meets-evil / & @here2bbtstrash for beta'ing this for me. my personal porny fairy godparents. i appreciate you all a whole lot. ✤ author's note: can you believe my degenerate brain dreamed this up and then i wrote all of it in two days in a delirious haze, opened the doc this morning to make final edits, and added almost 2k more. idk who i am anymore. if i missed anything it's bc i finished & edited this during jk's live and i was distracted, to say the least. anyway this is embarrassing i feel like a prude so i'm gonna go hide. pls come scream in my inbox with me unless it's to yell tired shit at me abt writing mxm/pegging/whatever else i warned you this is gay.

You hadn’t been surprised the first time, and you’re not surprised now, countless times later.

A girl slides into Taehyung’s lap—long hair, bubblegum pink, almost certainly a wig—and his hands immediately go to the small of her back. Large, nearly swallow her up, and they move to rest possessively at her hips, his grip tight as he pulls her closer. Her top is cropped latex and leaves very little to the imagination, which isn’t an issue for you or Yoongi because she’s not what Yoongi’s looking at. His eyes are locked on Taehyung’s hands; locked on the way the tendons flex as he manhandles the faceless girl in his lap, hikes her over one thick thigh.

Ten more seconds of this and all of you will be looking for a new club.

The air is hazy and thick, the floor sticky with god knows what, and Yoongi reaches for you beneath the table. His own large hand finds your smaller one, those knobby knuckles almost uncomfortable when he twines your fingers together. He’s still staring at Taehyung, and you want to do something, say something, it’ll be someone else soon, stop watching, you’re only gonna hurt yourself, but you know him, and you know when he gets like this it’s best to just let him ride it out. Suffer a little.

(Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be tortured as last time, at least—when all of you had gone someplace else, some seedy spot in an Itaewon basement, and Taehyung had some girl pressed against the wall outside the bathrooms, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she shook and came. And Hobi, smarter and sharper than any of you but still so fucking stupid, had just—

“Fuck, man, they’re gonna need a mop and bucket for that. I mean, shit, it was so much? The sound when it hit the floor—”

Jeongguk had pulled a face. Half doe-eyes, half mortified terror. “When what hit the floor, hyung?”

“Her fucking squirt, Jeonggukie, what the fuck do you think—”

And Namjoon, just as wide-eyed and terrified as Jeongguk but for an entirely different reason, had laughed awkwardly and said, “Haaa, maybe we should talk about something else?” as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.

That night had been shit-tier, nearly unsalvageable, so at least it doesn’t seem like Taehyung’s in that kind of mood. At least the girl in his lap still has her clothes on. At least his hands are someplace you can see them. At least Yoongi’s still beside you.)

So you bide your time. Take stock of who’s still here and where they are, because the girl in Taehyung’s lap has her lips on his neck and things might go south faster than you’d originally anticipated. Hoseok and Jimin are on the dance floor, hips doing something sinful and too much; Namjoon’s at the bar, jaw clenched as the bartender passes him over for the fourth time in a row; Soyeon and Hyungseo are in the other side of your booth, tongues sloppy as they kiss just because they feel like it; Jeongguk, shoved in the corner on Yoongi’s other side, is slack-jawed as he stares at them, and Jeongguk is a fucking pervert so you know he’s hard.

“Put your dick back in your pants, Jeonggukie,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the music. The bass is heavy as it drops, feels like it’s thrumming through your veins, and Jeongguk startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his panic, and Soyeon and Hyungseo don’t bother breaking apart to look. “You want another drink?” you ask Yoongi, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

He shakes his head, finally drags his attention away from Taehyung. There’s someone new in his lap: chin-length silver hair, thin legs that go on for miles, tan skin covered in boldly-colored tattoos, could be anyone. Yoongi isn’t looking anymore, but you are, so you catch it when Taehyung looks up. Looks right at Yoongi, wants to see if he’s watching, but instead he just finds you. “Gonna go smoke,” Yoongi answers, and you slide out of the booth to let him leave.

“Is hyung okay?” Jeongguk asks when the two of you are pressed back together. He sips leisurely at his drink, trying to make it last until Namjoon makes it back from the bar with another one. Something baby blue and shockingly green, a little umbrella on top. Two cherries. “He seems sad. Hey, watch this.” Jeongguk pops one into his mouth and presents the knotted stem to you seconds later.

This is the part you never know how to explain: that Yoongi loves you but sometimes he wants someone else. Not instead, but too. That you love Yoongi and want him to have whatever he wants, and that jealousy is foreign to you. That you and Yoongi love each other but do things a little unorthodox, which is not out of the ordinary for a friend group as ran-through and commingled as yours, but still takes patience and care to explain.

So you just ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, laugh at his squawking protests, and wrangle him so you can press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry this pretty little head about your hyungs, okay?”

Jeongguk surfaces with a glare, surface-level because you’ve embarrassed him in front of two hot girls that are still making out, and hides his flushed cheeks behind his drink. “Is it about Taehyungie-hyung?”

“What’d I just tell you?”

He pouts, but you’re saved from another interrogation by Namjoon’s unceremonious return to the table. He’s so flustered by his one-sided feud with the bartender that he slams the blue-green drink down a little too hard, spills half of it in Jeongguk’s lap. “Move over,” he says to you, and you cock an eyebrow in return. “Please,” he amends, like that’s what you’d been looking for, but when you still don’t move he gets a little whiny and panicked. “They’re relentless,” he says, pointing his thumb at Soyeon and Hyungseo like you can’t see them. “Don’t make me—”

“What about me!” Jeongguk wails, pressing his hands pathetically to his groin like he’s trying to stem bleeding, at the same time you roll your eyes and fire a, “Says Mr. Eight-gigabyte Porn Folder,” at Namjoon.

You receive another glare, this time from Namjoon, and he doesn’t hesitate to steal Jeongguk’s spot against the wall when he goes to the bathroom to deal with his soaked pants, only to start swearing when he realizes the seat is wet, too. “Jesus fuck—”

“That’s what you get.”

“Fuck off,” Namjoon fires back. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

“Outside smoking.”

“Smok—why is he smoking?” At your silence, he jerks his head up, intent on getting an answer out of you. Instead, his question dies on his tongue as he follows your line of sight. Another new person in Taehyung’s lap, sucking Taehyung’s fingers into their mouth. “Ah, yeah. That fucking guy.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Be nice, Namjoonie. You know Taehyung would hook up with a microwave if it gave him attention.”

“What number is that, then? Hasn’t he gotten enough attention?”

“Third I’ve seen. The first one was cute. I thought for sure he was gonna leave with her.”

Namjoon huffs, shakes his head. Takes a long pull of his beer. “He’s not gonna leave with anyone. He just does this to piss off hyung.” Then, like he’s coming to a realization, he turns to look at you with a quizzical look. “Wait, where’d Seokjin-hyung go?”

You stare back in disbelief. “How long were you at the fucking bar? He left hours ago.”

“Did he?” Then, quieter and to himself, “How long was I at the fucking bar?”

Whatever game Taehyung is playing, Yoongi is woefully inept at playing along.

Doesn’t know when it’s his move or when it’s time to sit and watch. Doesn’t know the rules. Doesn’t really listen when you try to explain it to him; probably doesn't want to hear it. Yoongi seems to think he’s at his best when he’s a little sad, a little miserable and yearning. At its core, that’s what the game is, and as much as he keeps touching the thorns to see if he’ll bleed, you know he still enjoys it.

(Know he gets off on it, too.)

Yoongi reaches for you. Steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder, pupils wide as saucers—dark dark dark in the corner of this grimy club—eventually breaking into a smile when you grab his sweat-slick hands and guide them to your waist. Your bodies move together like waves, pushing apart only for Yoongi to continuously pull you in closer, dazed from the feeling of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, words impossible to hear over the music, “look at you. So fucking pretty.”

He threads a knee between your legs, the sound of his groan drowned out as you roll your hips against him. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t know the rules to this game, but you do, and you make sure Taehyung’s watching when you drag your core against Yoongi’s thigh. He groans again, and his hands grip your hips tighter, moving you back and forth on him the way he does when you ride him.

You watch as he drags his eyes upward, see the exact moment he spots Taehyung across the club. His profile is lit up by the strobe lights, filling in the contours of his bone structure with greens and blues. He’s with Jimin and Hoseok now, dancing with the girl from earlier with the pink hair, her back pressed to his chest. He leans down and whispers recycled filth into her ear that she seems to buy. You watch as Yoongi closes his eyes tight; watch him pretend it’s Taehyung dancing with him; it’s Taehyung’s hips he’s gripping onto; it’s Taehyung who’s moaning and desperate for him in this moment.

You watch as his eyes snap open again.

You watch as he realizes he’s in this daydream alone.

And you wonder, briefly, if this should bother you. If this is fucked up, that Yoongi’s hard against you because he’s thinking about someone else, and you find that you don’t care. What you and Yoongi have doesn’t need to make sense to anyone except the two of you.

“Wanna go home,” Yoongi slurs into your ear, fucked up from the feel of you, the thought of Taehyung.

You smirk, tangle your hands in his hair and tug a little just to fuck him up even more. “Yeah? What d’you wanna go home for? It’s still pretty early.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he whines. Tries to hold you in place to grind harder against you and whines again when you move just out of reach. “Baby.”

“You know the rule.” There’s a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of Yoongi’s neck that you chase with your tongue. “Tell me what you actually want and we can leave.”

The breath he sucks in is harsh, fractured, like your question is a special kind of torture. You know it is. Unlike with Taehyung, this is a game both you and Yoongi know the rules to. Unlike with Taehyung, this is the game Yoongi plays to win. The song changes again, this time to something filthy and slow, and Yoongi fits himself to your back, moves until both of you are facing Taehyung. “Want you both,” he says into your ear. Nips at the lobe. “Want to watch you fuck him the way you fuck me.”

“Don’t wanna fuck him yourself?”

You feel him shake his head. “Not this time.”

“What are you doing, then? In this fantasy of yours?”

Yoongi presses closer, the outline of his hard cock pressing into the small of your back now. “Watching, at first. Wanna see you ruin him.” His hands skim along your skin, dip beneath the hemline of your shirt, dance across your stomach. “Wanna watch you make him fucking cry.”

“Are you telling me how?”

Yoongi’s laugh is low, a little caustic. “I won’t need to. He’s so fuckin’ easy.”

“And yet you want him this bad,” you taunt. “Someone easy like that—doesn’t seem to be your type.”

He bites along your neck. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m not the one all fucked up over Kim Taehyung.” You make eye contact with the man in question. Watch as the look on his face fades into a smirk, syrupy and slow. Sleezy, you think. He probably is as easy as Yoongi says. “I should tell him how fucking hard you are. Should tell him you’re gonna take me home and fuck me and come thinking about him. That’s pretty fuckin’ dirty, Yoongi.”

It’s nothing you haven’t said before. Sometimes you press even harder, humiliate him a little when he seems to be in the mood for it, but this time he goes stock-still. Silence stretches between the two of you, the only people standing still on this dancefloor, and you’re halfway turned around to see if Yoongi wants to fuck or cry when he says, “Do it, then.”

You laugh. All part of the game. But then Yoongi grabs your hand, moves it to his cock, straining against his skin-tight jeans, some kind of message that’s gotten fucked up in translation. “Yoongi—”

“Tell him,” he says, expression shuttered and serious.

“You wanna think about this for more than ten seconds? You haven’t talked to him since the last time you guys hooked up and you want me to go tell him you… what? That you want to have some weird cuck threesome with him?”

That’s exactly what you told him.

(Because you know Yoongi, and you also know Taehyung. Your dig at him to Namjoon was very much based in truth, and with how fucked up the dynamics of your friend group are, it hadn’t taken much more than sending Yoongi out into the cold to order a taxi, swaying your hips a little, re-glossing your lips, and disposing of the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. No one had batted an eye.

“I’m going home to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, leaning into Taehyung’s space. He was draped on the couch again, legs spread in a way that was frankly obscene. “Would you like to join us?”

“That depends, angel. How do you fuck him?” he asked, spreading his legs wider.

You stepped closer. Cupped his cheek, dug your nails into his skin a little, and said, “Better than you ever did,” all condescension.

Taehyung had just laughed. Pressed his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “I guess we’ll see about that.”)

And now you’re here, Taehyung sprawled on the bed beneath you. You can see why a sight like this would have Yoongi fucked up as long as he has been: Taehyung’s golden skin contrasting against the crisp white of the sheets, dark hair fanning against the pillows, curls falling into his eyes, chest heaving. Each time he throws his head back you’re torn between sinking your teeth into the column of his throat and wrapping your hands around it. It’s easy to ruin him when he looks like this; easy to give Yoongi what he wants.

“What should I do with you?” you think out loud, and Taehyung’s responding whimper draws a laugh out of you. “Yoongi wants to watch me fuck you,” you continue, hands teasing toward the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. You pinch, slap away the sting. “Would you like that?”

Taehyung’s cock—long and thick, still glistening with spit from when you sucked him off—twitches at the thought. “Y-yeah, fuck, want that,” he answers, hands moving to fist the sheets. He’s been so good. Has done exactly as you said. “Wan’ you to fuck me.”

“Should I fuck you the way you used to fuck your hyung?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi moan at the same time, and it’s so stupid, you think, this game they’ve been playing. Cat and mouse, as if the conclusion hasn’t been inevitable this whole time. “Use your words, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” he says again, Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Y-yeah, like that.”

You hum, reach behind you for the bottle of lube. Yoongi mutters a quiet shit from the other side of the room and you glance over. Mouth hung open, lips wet; jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, the outline of his cock visible through his briefs, hand squeezing at the base. Cheating a little, but still not touching himself the way you know he wants to. He’ll be the first to cry, at this rate.

Eyes back on Taehyung. You wonder if he’d normally preen, put on a show. You wonder if he did that with Yoongi, some whole thing. “He’s told me about it, you know,” you say, clicking the lube open. Sounds more like a gunshot in the small space of your bedroom, where the only other sounds are labored breathing and the city outside. “Told me all about how you used to split him open with that big cock.” You tip the bottle sideways, let the lube dribble out and over Taehyung’s balls. He hisses at the cold, mutters a swear. “Told me he’d struggle to take it sometimes.”

“You two are—fuck.” Whatever Taehyung was going to say is cut off as your finger follows the lube, trails down to his hole. You circle it there, make sure it’s wet, press a little just to watch his hips jerk. “You two are fu-fucking weird.”

“Mm, maybe,” you concede, “but you should see how hard he comes when he’s thinking about you.”

You gather more lube on your finger, then, and press it inside. Just to the first knuckle, just enough to make Taehyung whine. “I guess you already know that, though,” you continue. Pour a little more lube on Taehyung’s skin. Pull your finger out enough to slicken it, push it back in a little further. “Was it good for you?”

His moan is broken and low, deep and heady. A sound that makes the world feel like it’s tilting; a sound that makes you want to chase it. “Yeah,” Taehyung answers, and it could be a response or a declaration when it’s followed by, “so fucking good.”

“Yoongi is good, isn’t he? He listens so well.” With your free hand, you grab Taehyung’s face roughly, turn his head in the direction of where Yoongi’s sitting. “Look at him,” you instruct. He already looks fucked-out. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, knuckles white where he’s gripping onto the arm of the chair. “Look at how good he’s being, not even touching himself.”

And Taehyung… Taehyung almost looks ashamed. Won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze, now that they’re so close, now that it’s real, and this won’t do, will it, so you dig your nails in a little harder, drag them down his cheek, tell him again to look at his hyung. Then—

For the first time all night, their eyes meet at the same time.

Yoongi’s whimper is loud. The loudest you’ve ever heard him outside of actual sex. You work in a second finger alongside the first, build up a steady rhythm, and Taehyung isn’t faring much better. Little by little he opens up for you and you’re thankful for the way he sucks you in, adjusts. It’s getting harder to ignore the heat between your own legs, watching two beautiful men fall apart in vastly different ways, even though you want to drag this out, want to make Taehyung cry and give Yoongi exactly what he wanted.

And, god, Taehyung is so fucking pretty.

You tell him as much, and his smile is greasy, looks even more lewd when you crook your fingers and his eyes roll back. He’s still tight around you when he asks for a third so you shake your head, tell him no, tell him he’s greedy, and you think people must not make him beg much, the way he’s pouting. Taehyung has a face that gets him whatever he wants and a cock to match, and you’d understood it before, why Yoongi couldn’t really let it go, but it’s different when it’s right in front of you, making a mess of your sheets.

“I must be going soft on you,” you tell him, working in another finger the next time he asks. “Yoongi wanted me to make you cry and here I am, giving you whatever you want. Maybe I should let him decide what you get.”

Taehyung shoots a hand out, grabs at your forearm. “Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse, bordering on pleading. “Please. He’s still mad at me, won’ give me anything.”

A huff of breath escapes you. “He doesn’t look very mad to me. Looks like he could probably come on command if you told him to.” It’s not an exaggeration, not really; Yoongi is gone, looks like a stiff wind could have him spilling all over himself. “But maybe that’s what you deserve.”

You nail Taehyung’s prostate the next time you crook your fingers and he sobs. You do it again, then a third time. Precome oozes out of his cock, deepens the pool on his belly. You keep it up until tears pool on his waterline, until he’s reaching for you again, begging you to stop, words cracking as he tells you desperately that he’s going to come. “Angel, fuck, please, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, all authority. “You’re not going to come, are you, because I haven’t told you to. Yoongi hasn’t told you to.”

The first frustrated tear streaks down Taehyung’s cheek. “Oh my fucking god,” he chokes out, forcing his hips flat to the bed, tries to force you to stop moving. But your rhythm is steady, confident, three fingers working with the space he’s left you, and it isn’t until you watch his balls tighten that they slow. Taehyung’s sweat-slick, looks even more golden under the amber lamplight, and it’s dizzying, the way the color shifts as his chest heaves with his ragged breaths.

There’s only enough time for you to slip your fingers out, grab the lube, slick up the strap-on that’s fastened around your hips, before you’re pressing the head against Taehyung’s hole, still dripping wet. “It’s so big,” you muse, grinning wickedly at the man beneath you, “I don’t know if it’s going to fit. What do you think, Yoongi? Is this how you used to feel?”

When you look over this time, Yoongi has his cock out, briefs tucked beneath his balls, stroking fast. Clicking your tongue, he looks up through half-lidded eyes, hand stilling immediately. His nod is almost imperceptible, too disoriented to answer, and you’ll give him this one. Won’t push it. What you will push, though—

“Shit.”

You’re not sure if it comes from Yoongi or Taehyung. It might’ve even come from you, because you’re transfixed, can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your stupid flesh-colored dildo disappearing into Taehyung’s body. Fucking greedy, you think, mostly at yourself, because if this sight is good you can only imagine what you’d see if you were watching his face. Brows furrowed, mouth pinched. A look not far off from that night in the club, the determination on his face as he fucked that girl with his fingers, uncaring who heard or saw.

But this is your show. Yoongi’s fantasy. Whatever girls—people—Taehyung has fucked in seedy clubs across Seoul are of little importance here. All that matters is the steady push of your hips, the slow roll once you’re fully buried, the pleasure that jolts through you when you’re able to grind a little against the toy, the way Taehyung thrashes against the sheets, incoherent as he babbles, stuck between more and too much.

“Okay?” you ask, hands skimming along his warm skin. Goosebumps trail in their wake, and you settle them on his thighs. Press them up and to the side as he nods, giving yourself more space, and Taehyung’s moan is loud, unabashed. His cock lies neglected against his stomach, begging you to reach out and grab it, stroke him, make him come too fast so you have another bruise to press on, some way to embarrass him.

But this is your show, Yoongi’s fantasy, and you don’t have to look because you can hear how close your boyfriend is to getting himself off. Can hear the way his breath hitches, can hear when his rhythm changes. Quicker, now. More insistent. If Taehyung looked over at him, it’d be all over, and you almost tell him to do that, too.

“Stop touching yourself,” you say to Yoongi. A second time when he disregards the first, too far gone, too close. “Yoongi.” He whines but he listens, shoves his fingers in his mouth to stem the urge, and Taehyung watches it all.

You’re still thrusting, thighs burning, sticky where they meet Taehyung’s, and it won’t be your lengthiest performance, that’s for sure. So you call Yoongi’s name again, beckon him over, and he hesitates, looks so unsure. But it’s so stupid, the way he and Taehyung dance around one another—and you know, you know Taehyung wouldn’t be shaking like this if it were just you, if Yoongi wasn’t in his head, wasn’t watching—so you’re insistent. “Come here,” you tell him, and you make sure your voice is spun sugar when you say it.

Yoongi listens. Stumbles over on unsteady legs, knees nearly buckling when he gets close enough to also watch the way the strap-on fucks into Taehyung’s hole, the way it stretches obscenely to accommodate it. “Baby.” He threads his hands into your hair and kisses you hard and messy. Taehyung moans beneath you so you know he’s watching, and you will your body to move faster, fuck him harder.

When Yoongi pulls back, it’s obvious. The longing in his eyes. “Tell him,” you say, and he looks caught-out, would almost look angry if he were capable of it. “This is your fantasy, isn’t it? So tell him.”

“I—” He looks down at Taehyung again, meets his gaze again, and he must see something there you can’t, because all the hesitation is gone when he says, “I want to kiss you.”

And you know what it means.

Because that had been the rule between the two of them. No staying the night, no kissing. You know what it means for Yoongi to ask for that, what it’d mean if Taehyung allowed it, and it nearly cracks your heart in half that it’s the only thing he’s willing to ask for when his wants are endless when it comes to Taehyung.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung moans. “Fuck, hyung, yeah—yeah, c’mere, kiss me, please, fuck.”

Yoongi looks like he’s been punched in the gut. Looks overwhelmed, given this kind of permission, so he goes about it all wrong. Starts to kneel at the side of the bed before you tsk and grab him by his own hair. “Do it right,” you instruct.

He moans. Aborts whatever he was about to do and climbs over Taehyung on the bed, straddles him, fitting in between both of you perfectly, close enough for his cock to slot against Taehyung’s. They both moan, and their game had been so fucking stupid it sends a lick of anger through you. Yoongi ruts his hips once, twice, and then he’s leaning down and cupping Taehyung’s face and pressing his lips—still wet from you, still wearing your spit—to Taehyung’s.

And Taehyung comes immediately, nearly untouched. Spills all over himself with a loud, broken sob.

“Holy shit,” you say, hips slowing until they’re still. “Holy shit, that was fucking hot, what the fuck.”

Taehyung trembles in the comedown and Yoongi presses in closer, kisses him through it. Can’t seem to stop now that he’s allowed. He’s still rutting, has Taehyung teetering on oversensitivity, so you grab Yoongi’s hips to slow him. “Careful, baby,” you say softly into his ear. Press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Give him a minute to back away from the ledge again and get himself under control, let Taehyung catch his breath. “Are you okay, Taehyung?” you ask, hands once again touching any of his skin you can find. You knead at the muscles in his calves.

There’s some garbled response. Something you think is supposed to sound like an affirmation. “Words, please.”

“Y-yeah,” comes his response.

“Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, all right?” You press another kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, turn your attention to him. “Then we’ll finally give you what you want, yeah? Finally let you come.” A shiver runs up his spine and he nods weakly. “Can you prep yourself while I’m gone?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy. Gonna pull out now, Tae.”

You do so slowly. Taehyung hisses, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hisses again when you replace the toy with your thumb, try to ease the discomfort of being so suddenly empty. With another kiss pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, you mumble an I love you into his hair, and then you’re gone.

There’s always been something about the way Yoongi touches himself.

Like the goal is more than simply getting off. Like there’s reverence in it, something beyond purpose. Yoongi touches himself the way other people drop to their knees at church and pray.

Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Sometimes his hands skirt over every inch of his own skin before he finally brings them to his cock. Sometimes he rests on his haunches in the middle of the bed and angles himself toward the mirror and watches, his cheeks aflame the entire time because he’s embarrassed to see himself like that, three of his own fingers fucking himself, but the embarrassment almost feels just as good. Sometimes he has you beneath him, raining down praise as his fist works the length of his cock.

Sometimes he does it entirely wrong, like now.

Two pale, lube-slick fingers work in and out of his hole. His own, then, and not Taehyung’s. Just like you’d asked. You’re a little surprised, thought maybe Yoongi might panic and retreat with you gone, but they’re both where you’d left them. Taehyung’s talking all the while, saying god knows what in that deep timbre, and it’s straight up pornographic the way his large hands rest on the cheeks of Yoongi’s ass, pull them apart.

The damp cloth in your hand feels useless. Is useless, you think, because Yoongi had told you something, once, deep in the throes of another cerebral fantasy—

“I can’t believe I have to keep telling you this,” you say, and everything immediately goes still at the sound of your voice, “but do it right, Yoongi.”

Taehyung lifts his head, stares at you skeptically. Probably mirroring the look on Yoongi’s face that you aren’t privy to with his back to you. “We’ve talked about this,” you continue, stalking closer. All eyes on you as you drop the cloth to the floor. “Are you clean?” you ask Taehyung, and he nods, expression still dubious.

And then you’re reaching between both of them, swiping your fingers through the mess of cum on Taehyung’s stomach, and he understands immediately. “Are you gon—fuuuck. Fucking christ.” The first swipe goes to Yoongi’s mouth, and there’s no hesitation as he sucks your fingers clean. Your free hand finds Yoongi’s, the one he’s working himself open with, and pulls it away. Replaces it with your own, your two longest fingers covered in the second swipe of Taehyung’s cum, and you fuck them in and out faster than Yoongi had been.

“Filthy,” Taehyung chokes out, clearly overwhelmed; another groan when Yoongi starts sucking at his neck, biting, claiming.

It’s primal, the way Taehyung reacts, the way Yoongi embeds himself under his skin, tries desperately to make a home there. Something permanent this time; or, at least, a home that won’t burn down like the last one. Won’t be reduced to a smoking heap of bitter ash. And you wonder, as you watch the way these two beautiful men fit together, if Taehyung will be holding the match or the key this time.

You press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the knots in Yoongi’s spine. Drizzle more lube on your fingers, work him open more. Whisper I know, baby, I know when he gets impatient and a little too demanding. Swap the condom on the strap-on and slick it up, just like last time, and then you’re pressing into Yoongi instead of Taehyung, the way you’ve done so many times before.

Everything is familiar and different: the drag, the pull, the noises spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Those staccato whines varied in pitch, sometimes drawn out and sometimes punched and short. This is what you know. This is your home, and you think, as Taehyung looks at Yoongi, so fucking endeared, as he gently cups his face, as he says—

“Hyung, you look so pretty. You’re doing so well, hyung, fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this again.”

—you think your house might look nice with an addition. An extra space carved out only for Taehyung. A room where Yoongi can exist in endless adoration.

“Make yourself useful, Kim Taehyung.”

Because Taehyung listens. Because Taehyung is good in all the ways that Yoongi is good, and he doesn’t have to be told twice when the order deals in Yoongi’s pleasure. So all of you adjust until Yoongi’s on his hands and knees, gripping tightly onto the headboard, and Taehyung shuffles down the bed until he can get his mouth on Yoongi’s cock.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you say, and Taehyung moans at the praise, the vibrations making Yoongi gasp and jerk.

You know when you hit his prostate, too; know this is going to be over soon from the way he buries his face in the crook of his elbow and screams. You know it from the way he starts to shake. From the unintelligible filth that pours from his mouth as Taehyung swallows him all the way down. From the way he stutters out a, ba-baby, wha’bout you, gonna come like this, and you pet his hair, voice soft again when you say, this is for you, Yoongi, you can come, I know it’s so much.

There’s a final husky, drawn-out moan, and then there’s quiet.

Lucidity returns slowly.

The heat kicks on. A police siren wails in the distance, seven floors below you. You re-wet your cloth and do your best to clean the dried cum from Taehyung’s skin, your smile fond as he whines at the cold, tries to squirm away. Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, just collapses face-first onto the mattress and lets everyone fuss over him. Starts snoring a few minutes later, after you’ve pulled the duvet up to his ears and he’s tucked in and warm.

You move to the dresser. Pull out two t-shirts—oversized on you, tight in the shoulders on Taehyung—and clean underwear. And then you pause, because Taehyung’s already plucking his own clothes off the floor, already has his fucking socks and briefs on, and it’s… it doesn’t feel right, is the thing. Doesn’t feel like he should be leaving. Not tonight, maybe ever.

“Where are you going?” you ask, and you do a good job of keeping the hurt out, at sounding normal.

Taehyung doesn’t get it. Looks at you like you’re a little stupid and a lot crazy, because he looks at you, then at the world outside the window, and finally at Yoongi before answering. “I—leaving?”

“Why?”

Taehyung looks at you like you’re a lot stupid this time. “I don’t…” Pauses. Tries to sink into the floor to no avail. “Look, I think maybe this was a mistake? Hyung and I—I don’t think this is what he wants.”

“And how do you know what he wants?”

“Because we’re here,” he answers, anger seeping in. “Because I’m standing in your apartment. His girlfriend, and—”

You sigh. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I think it’d really hurt him if you left.” You leave off the again. It’s not your trauma to dredge up. Yoongi wouldn’t want you to, and that’s reason enough. “I would like it if you stayed, if that means anything.”

“The two of you are fucking weird,” he says again, but he looks less torn. Looks less like he would plow you over to get to the door, and it’s… progress. It’s good. You can work with a halfway thing. “Hyung would really—you think he wants me here?”

It’s spoken about in the way a broken thing always is: delicately, hesitantly, like Taehyung’s afraid of the answer, afraid to find out the results of this stupid game of his own design. “He does. It’s not my place to say much more than that, but I think the two of you are overdue for a conversation, if nothing else.”

Taehyung nods. Starts looking less and less like he’s out of place; starts looking like object permanence, takes a corporeal form within the four walls of your bedroom. “There’s space here for you,” you say, with the amount of care words like these require, “if you want it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. Nothing has to be decided right now, but I know Yoongi. You know him, too. I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

Taehyung nods again. Peels his socks off. “You’re sure?” he asks, and when you nod, he climbs back into bed, seems to somehow know which side of the bed is Yoongi’s, two magnets drawn together. Something inevitable.

You breathe out a sigh. Finally slip the t-shirt and underwear on. Flick the lamp off and let yourself have a minute to enjoy the calm, Yoongi’s body heat next to you, still snoring softly between you and Taehyung. And then, because you can’t resist—

“You two are really fucking stupid, you know that?”

You hear Taehyung swallow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sounding the part of a scolded child, and as much as you try not to, you’re smiling again, fond and endeared, into the dark. “I know.”

“Okay. Go to sleep, Tae. I expect a very nice thank you gift in the morning.”

It doesn’t happen in the morning. Not really.

It happens sometime in the middle of the night. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains gives away nothing more than silver-amber light, the moon and the city. Could be minutes since you fell asleep, could be hours; all you know is Yoongi’s at your back, arm slung possessively over your middle, and his heat is stifling.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, because it’s not just his heat. He’s hard again, cock pressing against the swell of your ass just like it was in the club, and you feel him smile against your neck when he realizes you’re awake. Feel him rock his hips, just a little.

He nips at your lobe, your jaw. “Hi, baby,” he says, like this is just another morning. Like he’s about to present your favorite mug to you, coffee fixed exactly how you like it. “Why didn’ you wake me up?”

“For what?” you breathe out, voice already wavering. All Yoongi has done is skim his warm hands under your oversized t-shirt, swirl a finger around your navel.

Yoongi tuts. Feels weird to be on this side of it, the illusion of condescension. “To fuck you. Make you come. You didn’t earlier.”

“I meant what I said—”

“I know you did,” Yoongi interjects, “but I don’t find that to be a very acceptable excuse.”

You roll your eyes, no heat in it, but then Yoongi’s hand moves to the hem of your underwear and slips inside. Your hips jerk when he moves two fingers lightly over your clit, jerk again when he finds you already wet and groans deep and husky into your ear. And it’s not loud, but it’s loud for this room at whatever-the-fuck time it is. “Gotta be quiet,” you whisper to him, and he laughs, thinks you’re joking. “I’m serious,” you say, and you want to sound authoritative but it comes out as a whine when he sinks those fingers into your cunt.

“Why would I need to be quiet?” he asks. Crooks them as best he can from this weird angle, you on your side with your back pressed to him, Yoongi halfway on top of you. “Shouldn’t I be loud?” He hits a spot that whites your vision. “Shouldn’t everyone in this fucking place hear it?”

Usually you wouldn’t care. Your apartment building has heard worse, including whatever debauchery the three of you had gotten up to mere hours ago, but—“Taehyung’s asleep.”

Yoongi startles, goes still. “What?”

“What.”

“What d’you mean Taehyung’s asl…” You feel him turn. Feel him realize, for the first time, that there is a very-asleep Taehyung on his other side, and you want to ask how he hadn’t noticed before, want to say didn’t you realize how cramped this bed is, it’s not big enough for three people, we’ll have to get a new one, but. Yoongi hadn’t expected him to stay, hadn’t expected it to even be an option, so of course it would’ve been a blind spot.

Your heart cracks in half again.

“What’d you say to him?” he asks. Not accusing, almost awed, like you knew a code, the secret passcode to getting Taehyung to stay that Yoongi hadn’t had before.

You reach back, find Yoongi’s hair. Scratch gently at his scalp. “Just that I thought you’d like it if he stayed. That’s it, nothing else. I wouldn’t.”

“I know, I wasn’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, lets it go. He’s okay. “This is okay with you?”

A laugh spills out of you. “You’re asking me that now? I was nearly fist-deep in his ass a few hours ago but him sleeping in our bed is crossing some kind of line?”

“Sex can be different,” Yoongi argues, “and it’s me, you know, like it’s my hangup, not yours—”

“I want you to be happy,” you answer honestly. “Whatever that looks like. I told him there’s room for him here if he wants it, but they’re not my knots to untangle. If he wants to stick around, if you two can get your shit together… we’ll figure it out. It only needs to make sense to us.”

Silence. Then—“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my fucking life,” Yoongi groans. “Jesus Christ.”

“I should’ve known hyung was the type to get a boner from open and honest communication.”

Yoongi startles again at the low rasp of Taehyung’s voice. “And that’s exactly why I said I fuck him better than you,” you fire at him, deadpan. He laughs. You don’t have to look at Yoongi to know how red he’s turned.

“You said that to him?” he chokes out, all mortified disbelief, at the same time Taehyung says, “Maybe you’ve got a point, angel.”

The mattress sinks under Taehyung’s weight as he shuffles closer to the two of you. Must touch Yoongi somehow, because there’s a high-pitched whine from the back of his throat, so loud in your ear, has heat coursing through you. “Finish what you started, hyung,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi’s nod is jerky, his hands uncoordinated under Taehyung’s watchful stare.

Yoongi moves over you fully, wastes no time before he’s working his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, sucking at your skin. Taehyung groans quietly, doesn’t need to be told a goddamn thing; rids you of your shirt so Yoongi can mouth his way from your jaw to your neck, collarbones to chest, one nipple and then the next. Pleasure licks up your spine, outweighs how overwhelming it is to have Yoongi this geared-up, wound this tight; to have Taehyung’s hands roaming over every inch of skin his hyung doesn’t have his mouth on.

“Yoo-Yoongi,” you choke out, because this has really gone from zero to a hundred and he’s been pressing incessantly on your g-spot for too long to remain unaffected.

It’s building, building, building, and you’ve fully lost control of your hips, grinding against the heel of Yoongi’s palm like you’re desperate for it. (You are.) And Taehyung just laughs darkly, says, “Think she’s gonna come, hyung,” just to get under your skin.

“Mm, yeah. Might make a mess.” He slaps at your clit and that’s it, that’s what does it.

And Yoongi knows you, doesn’t he, because he knows how you like to get fucked. Knows to click his tongue at you, give you that disappointed look; knows to wipe your release on your thighs. Knows to barely let you catch your breath before he’s slipping on a condom and pushing inside of you.

After his fingers, the stretch from his cock feels dizzying. Feels on the edge of too much, and Taehyung’s commentary is doing fuck-all to help you come back to earth. Keeps saying shit like goddamn, hyung, yeah, fuck her like that. Maneuvers you so your back is pressed to his chest, now, your head on his shoulder, so Yoongi can slip his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth while he ruins you. It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy, and you think, selfishly, that a room won’t be big enough. You’d build Taehyung an entire goddamn house to keep it like this, to keep the three of you safe in this bubble.

“Imagine, hyung,” Taehyung starts, and you know what comes out of his mouth next is going to be nasty. Yoongi knows it, too, eyes starting to go glassy. A million constellations reflected as he looks at the two of you. “If we fucked her at the same time. Both of us in that tight pussy. Our cocks togeth—”

You’re not sure if the deafening moan comes from you or Yoongi. Either way, his hips falter, cadence reduced to stuttered thrusts as he tries desperately not to come just from Taehyung spewing more filth out of his devilish mouth. But you want to see it. Want to see what happens when he’s pushed to the brink of horny delirium, so you say—

“Do it.”

—and Yoongi has to stop altogether. Grips your hips so hard you know they’ll bruise, and you think, for a second, that he actually did come. Everything is quiet for a second, just more labored breathing, and then Yoongi picks his head up. Looks more fucked-out than you’ve ever seen him, even more than earlier, and looks straight at Taehyung.

“Put your fingers in her.”

Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose. Waits for you to nod, give him the okay, and then his hands leave your hair and skim down your body. They’re so warm, so large, cover so much skin that it truly feels like he’s everywhere, like it’s more than just him touching you. The closer he nears to your cunt, the more overpowering it is, the harder it is to breathe.

“Is this what you want, angel?” he asks, words warm on your skin as he presses them just below your ear. “You’re a greedy girl, getting hyung’s cock and my fingers.” He rubs circles into your clit, sends you spiraling. You’re dangerously close to a second orgasm (could be a third, could be a hundredth, considering Yoongi never let you come down from the first) and there’s a split-second right before he dips his fingers into your cunt, works them in alongside Yoongi’s cock, that you feel engulfed.

Everything is on fire.

You, most of all.

Taehyung sucks his fingers into his mouth, gets ‘em wet, works in slowly. Just his middle finger at first, and Yoongi falters again, moans out an oh fuuuck that betrays exactly how far gone he is. And you aren’t far behind, the stretch from both of them unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can’t imagine how it’d feel if it was more than just Taehyung’s fingers, except you can, and Taehyung notices when the thought has you clenching, has you a little wetter, because he laughs at you, tells Yoongi like he can’t tell on his own. Like your boyfriend is a little dumb, like he’s never fucked you before, and that does something to both of you.

One finger turns into two. Yoongi’s a fucking mess, absolutely gone of the feel of them inside you, against his cock, can’t stop moaning. The tight fit has Taehyung’s fingers pressed snug against your g-spot, exactly how Yoongi’s had been, and it’s too much. Too much.

“I’m, fuck—I’m gonna—”

When you come it feels like the end of the world. It feels like rapture. It feels like every atom in your body has been rearranged, like the gods themselves are rewarding you specifically with the sound of Yoongi following right behind you, moaning low and ragged, spilling into the condom.

In the comedown, he kisses you—soft, tender, with every iota of love and affection contained in him. “I love you,” he says. Presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You okay?”

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. “Give me three to five business days to decide.”

Yoongi’s smile is shy, almost embarrassed. More gums than anything else. Behind you, the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter against your back, rattling your ribs. Rattling your heart, maybe, lodged safely between them.

It expands, makes more room—the one for Taehyung, that house—and Yoongi’s lips find Taehyung’s next and you know it’ll be okay. These two stupid boys, they’ll figure it out, put a cease fire to their foolish game.

Yeah, something inevitable.

as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #yoongi fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #btscarnivalnet #kvanity #btswritersclub #btshoneyhive

817 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 5 months

Text

Of Ruin: Chapter 2 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: language, slicing one’s palm for a magical ritual?, casual beer drinking wc: 5.9k

It’s common for this first class of yours that some of your students arrive before you do, and today is no exception. Something is different today - most of the students are crowded around one girl’s desk, eyes on her phone screen.

You can’t help but peek up at them curiously as you set up your materials at the front of the room, signing into your laptop with one hand and digging in your bag for a stack of hand-outs with the other.

Luckily, your curiosity is short-lived.

“Have you heard about this, Professor?” one of the boys asks you, glancing up from the phone. “There have been a series of Infracti attacks across the continent.”

You feel yourself frown. “That’s news? There have always been Infracti that break the laws… just like there will always be some humans who break laws.”

“It isn’t just random hunters,” someone else tells you, pulling out their own phone to, you assume, pull up the article. “It seems like actual, orchestrated attacks - groups of Infracti at a time, and they leave survivors. They aren’t hunting, just killing. There’s footage.”

“It seems like a pattern,” someone else jumps in, turning their screen towards you. A video plays, but you’re too far away to see much on the dark, grainy video. “The news outlets are reporting there’s reason to believe the Scores are behind it.”

You press your lips together. It’s not the first time in your life you’ve seen a scare like this. Any time the general human public seems to remember that Infracti might hunt them - laws be damned - the news stations fan the flames of a little widespread panic.

“It’s much more likely that one little group of Infracti have forgotten their manners,” you say, trying to sound mild. “They’ll be arrested. Infracticus doesn’t want trouble with us, I assure you. Or with the ruling family. They were at war for centuries - none of them want to return to that.”

The college kids look at their phones again, clearly unconvinced.

“Remember the unit we did last month?” you remind them, starting to head around your desk to pass out the handout you’d located in the depths of your bag. “When the last war between the Scorns and Ruins ended - when the protection laws were put in place - both houses were barely left standing.”

“I don’t know, Professor,” the first girl says, shaking her head. “If we’ve learned anything, it’s that Infracti history is nothing but wars for power and control of the kingdom. These moments of peace, they don’t last.”

“There were never treaties and laws in place,” you point out. “The human world was never a player in the game. Things are different now.”

She shakes her head again. “History repeats itself,” she intones.

You start to call everyone’s attention, ready to move on and into the planned lecture. But even as you speak, your stomach swirls, unsettled. Namjoon’s words in Dr. Kim’s office playback through your head: we may be walking into the start of Infracti civil war.

“Alright, so, today we’re going to be looking at some Infracti mythology,” you tell the class, as the last few stragglers find empty desks near the sides of the room. It’s a relatively small classroom, not a full lecture hall, for which you’re grateful. “You’re all familiar with the story The Hunter and the Highest?”

Most of the class nods, though a few look uncertain.

“Whether you know it by name or not,” you explain, pacing the front of the room slowly, “you know the story. It’s classic - done and redone through the history of pop culture. Can anyone give us a quick summary?”

“A vampire and a witch fall in love, and all their problems go away,” someone in the third row calls dryly.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “Okay, a little less quickly than that, maybe.”

Someone near the front raises his hand. “Isn’t it a fairy tale? Like, for kids?”

You waggle your head around. “It’s certainly been adapted in that way. But the original text predates all of those adaptations by centuries.”

“It’s about how the Infracti became civilized,” someone else offers.

“That’s closer,” you agree, pointing at them appreciatively. “In the story, Infracti were simply monsters called hunters. A magic-wielder, hunted herself by humans, finds an Infracti and gifts him with humanity. So, it is a tale meant to explain how Infracti changed from the beasts of old to the magical being we recognize today.”

You start passing out texts and give directions. “There are three versions of the myth in this packet,” you explain. “I want you to look through and find the differences, and from there we’ll discuss why those changes may have been made in the retelling.”

The college kids read in silence for a few minutes before the girl with the cell phone videos earlier raises her hand. “The second version calls the magic-wielder priestess,” she provides.

You write this on the whiteboard. “Great find. You’ll notice that the magic-wielders are given a few different names. Priestess is one. Highest is most common, which refers to a high priestess. In that version of the myth, the priestess who found the hunter was the leader, the strongest.”

“The last version calls her witch,” someone adds.

You smile, happy that they cottoned on. “And what do you notice about the chronology of that?”

They look at each other, and then at their pages. You wait.

“Witch is more recent?” someone suggests.

“You got it,” you affirm. “As time went on, as the stories got closer to now, the terminology shifted away from the respectful priestess and into a feared witch. Great observation. What else do you notice?”

“They only fall in love in the newest one,” someone points out. “In both of the early versions the priestess offers a trade.”

“That’s right,” you nod, adding this to the whiteboard. “The older versions of the myth show the magic-wielder trading humanity to the hunter in exchange for his protection against the humans who cast her out. Only in the more recent renditions is it simplified into a love story.”

You slide into the history part of the lesson - the truths that led to the folktale. It’s impossible for anyone to really know what happened in these ancient times - how the Infracti and the magic-wielders really came together for the first time. Regardless, it’s indisputable that from some point in history the two beings had a natural alliance, a symbiotic relationship. The Infracti formed the great houses, established the monarchy, and allowed the magic-wielders to live and practice safely on their land.

Of course, as your students know, the monarchy was only peaceful for a short time. It wasn’t long before the newly civilized Infracti did what civilizations always do: let greed lead them to war.

–

You sleepwalk through your last two classes, texting Namjoon as promised as soon as you’re finished and solidifying plans to meet for a meal near campus.

He’s there before you, standing absently on the sidewalk, scrolling on his phone with one hand in his jeans pocket.

“Hi,” you say, approaching. He looks up, clicking the screen on his phone off and sliding it into his pocket before reaching out to shake your hand. “I wanted to introduce myself a little better. I’m -”

“I know who you are,” he says with a smile. “You have a bit of a reputation. Your jaunts around the world with my grandfather are well-documented for the curse-breaking community.”

“Your grandfather?” you echo, and then realize you should have connected those dots. You’d read his business card - Kim Namjoon. “Ah, I should have realized. So, you’re continuing the family business?”

He laughs at this, leading you inside and asking the seating hostess to place you at one of the tables outside.

You each order a drink and settle in before he finally answers you. “In a way, yes,” he admits. “I was just always around that stuff growing up. I thought it was interesting. Following that interest into college seemed natural, and the fact that it pleased Grandfather so much to have me follow in his footsteps… that was a bonus, of course.”

“That must be nice,” you muse, not really meaning to reveal so much as you add, “My family thinks I have a death wish. They don’t think anything I study has real value.”

Namjoon considers this as the waiter places his beer in front of him, the glass covered in heavy condensation. “That’s sad,” he says finally. “Curse-breaking literally saves lives.”

You shrug. “They don’t see it that way. Neither do I, really. Curse-breaking is just… calculations.”

He smiles wryly. “I like to think of it as following a recipe.”

You laugh a little. “Without the wiggle room. Imagine following steps like a pinch when working a counter-curse? We’d blow ourselves up.”

He laughs too. “Okay, so it’s not cooking, it’s baking. The measurements matter.”

You lapse into companionable silence, sipping your drinks, watching the late afternoon slip into evening bit by bit.

“I need to admit,” he says finally, speaking out into the twilight instead of at you, “I’m really not sure about this.”

You nod. “It’s a lot.”

“Grandfather said you have a lot of knowledge on the Infracti,” Namjoon says thoughtfully.

You nod. “I do. But studying something in books and theory is not the same as walking among them. And the stakes are high.” You sigh. “He’s right… it’s dangerous.”

“Great payout though,” Namjoon mutters, as if he didn’t necessarily mean for you to hear it. And he’s right. The living members of the royal family have been around for centuries. You don’t live that long without amassing a fortune. Whatever reward the King of Ruin has promised, you feel sure you’d never have to work again.

Though you know you still would.

“That’s true,” you agree quietly. But you’re thinking about the prince, and the curse. Of course the pay-out speaks to you - you have bills to pay, after all. And you’re only human. But the thing about what you do is… well, you love it.

You love curse-breaking. You love the puzzle, the pieces clicking together just right as you uncover the components of the original curse one at a time. You love the thrill of building your own magic to push back with, love the sizzle of power beneath your undeserving, human fingertips as you cast something meant to strip away someone else’s hatred and leave calm in its place.

You love having something you’re good at, something you can claim as yours, something to enter a room before you do and demand a sliver of respect you’d never experienced before.

Not to mention… you’ve studied the Infracti and their history and culture for your entire adult life. To get to go there and see it all in person, with the promise of protection, is something beyond your wildest dreams. Infracti can come here if they go through the proper channels - for business or for pleasure, as long as that pleasure isn’t hunting.

But humans typically don’t go to Infracticus. It’s simply too dangerous - statistically, there’s bound to be some rule-breakers, and you’d be walking into their home. This is an opportunity that has never come before, for anyone you’ve ever known in the field.

You think again of your conversation in Dr. Kim’s office earlier. You’d been chosen not for your talent as much as your anonymity. Success on this case would bring you prestige among the curse-breaking community. You’d make a name for yourself, by yourself - not attached to Dr. Kim, overshadowed and forgotten.

“I think I want to do it,” you murmur, and when Namjoon whips around to look at you, wide-eyed, you realize you’ve spoken out loud.

“You should sleep on it,” he says, repeating his grandfather’s words from earlier. “Y/N, you could be walking to your death.”

“That’s the case every time,” you point out. “Besides, the royal family obviously wants us to succeed - they want the prince to be healed. I’m sure they’ll use their wealth and power to keep us safe. If anything happens to us, he’s screwed, right?”

Namjoon shakes his head, runs his hand down his face. “This is insane,” he intones. “This is insane. We can’t just waltz into Infracticus and pretend we belong there -”

“Again,” you say, more firmly this time, more and more sure of your decision by the second. “They want our success. They’re going to do everything they can to mitigate the risk of our cover being blown, right? They have more to gain from our success than we do. Seriously, think about it.”

“Oh, I’m thinking,” Namjoon mutters.

“I’m going to tell him yes,” you say decisively. “No pressure. Make the decision that’s best for you.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon mutters, swirling the last dregs of his beer around the bottom of his glass, voice glum. “Yeah. I’m… I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

–

Your first class the next day is early; you clutch a travel mug of coffee and watch the city pass by outside your window with barely-open eyes. You’re even earlier than normal, because you want to stop by Dr. Kim’s office on your way and give him your answer.

His door is open when you arrive, and you knock, though normally you’d just stroll in.

He looks up, startled by the noise, then softens when he sees it’s you. You feel a rush of affection for the old man; over the last ten years of your life, he’s been more of a father to you than your own family.

“I want to go,” you tell him, proud when your voice comes out sure and steady, when inside you feel uncertain and wobbly.

Dr. Kim takes off his glasses and places them on the desk before him, rubs at his eyes, and replaces them. “I don’t know how to feel,” he finally admits with a chuckle. “I both want you to accept, and don’t. On one hand, I know you’ll handle the situation, and I’ll be so proud… but the danger…”

“I trust the royal family,” you say evenly. “If they say they’ll give us protection, I’ve got to trust that. I can’t not help - not if I’m their best shot at success.”

Dr. Kim shakes his head, looking out his window at the rising sun to the east. “I suppose I trust the royal family, too,” he muses, “or I wouldn’t have even told you about the case.” He turns to look at you again, seems to brace himself, snap into business-mode. “Very well. When do your classes end today? We have many things to debrief before you leave.”

–

You spend almost six hours in Dr. Kim’s office after giving your last lecture of the day - so long, in fact, that he orders delivery and you sneak bites of dinner between textbook pages as he helps you prepare for the trip as best he can.

You review Infracti niceties - greetings, things that are considered polite, habits, mannerisms. You also get a crash course in current affairs, learning everything the human public knows about the current royal family.

“Prince Taehyung was born Infracti, not turned from human,” Dr. Kim explains. “His bloodline - the bloodline of the royal family, of the Ruins - goes back… beyond written history. His powers will be strong, and so will his influence.”

“Did they tell you any details about the curse? What symptoms he’s exhibiting?” you ask curiously, flipping the page of the book you have open on the table.

Dr. Kim nods slowly, thinking as he speaks. “It appears he loses his sense of self between midnight and dawn each day,” he explains. “Becomes… the basest of his kind. They’ve been keeping him quite literally locked up each night to stop him from harming others.”

You ponder this, unable to get Namjoon’s words from yesterday out of your head. “I suppose if you wanted to dethrone a prince… turning him into a murderer might be one way.”

“Our job isn’t to solve who caused it,” Dr. Kim reminds you gently. “Just to cure him.”

You spend the rest of the night poring over brittle texts, taking pages and pages of notes on similar cases, curses that only show up in the afflicted at certain times, curses that cause violence or the desire to do harm, curses that make you lose sight of who you are. You write down the causes, the layers that may be present. You write down how they’ve been busted in the past, tactics that have proven successful.

You write down a list of everything you may need to pack.

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you’re startled by a light knock on the office door. You look up from where you’re scrawling shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, bar soap, to find Namjoon standing in the doorway.

He greets his grandfather warmly and gives you a polite nod hello.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me you want to stay home,” Dr. Kim says dryly, and Namjoon gives him a sheepish smile.

“No,” he admits. “I’m going to go.”

Dr. Kim sighs, nodding like he expected this all along. “Very well,” he says, waving a hand at the papers you have spread across the table. “Come take a picture of the packing list. I’ll escort you two to the Ostium tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

The Ostium is a temple built from sand-colored stone, guarded by carved stone lions, fangs bared in a roar. You’ve been inside twice before, for your studies. You’ve never seen it in action. Right now it’s too dark to see the statues clearly - it’s hours before dawn. You napped more than slept, and it was fitful at best.

You pull a wheeled carry-on size piece of black luggage, and you see a bulging duffle bag hanging across Namjoon’s back. Dr. Kim comes empty-handed and long-faced. You’re surprised that someone is there, now, when it is technically the middle of the night. But, then again, your arrival was scheduled - you are invited, expected.

The woman who stands before the altar at the rear of the small room is obviously an Infracti. She doesn’t hide behind mortal eyes, as she could if she chose to. Instead of whites, her eyes are fathomless pools of black, swimming and shifting like inky ocean depths. There’s an unearthly quickness to the movements her body makes, as if she has to remind herself to move slowly and forgets each time a move is instinctual instead of deliberate.

“Welcome,” she says. There’s a heaviness to her accent, a give-away that whoever she is, she’s old enough to have spoken the Infracti’s original language. “What business?”

“Good morning,” Dr. Kim says, and all three of you give a quick nod hello. “I am Dr. Kim from the university.”

“Yes,” she says, nodding in recognition. “We were expecting you. Welcome. You’ve come with the curse-breakers?”

Dr. Kim opens his hand, indicating both you and Namjoon. He introduces you both by name and she inclines her head in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says to you both. “Do you know how to cross?”

Your pulse sings; you don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous about anything in your life.

“In theory,” you tell her.

She gives you a tight half-smile. “It’s quite straight-forward. In that case, you can say goodbye here and I’ll escort you through.”

You’re surprised when Dr. Kim wraps you in a hug. “Please be careful,” he begs as he releases you and turns his attention to his grandson. “Don’t let your guard down. Do the job, and leave. Watch each other’s backs. Don’t get tangled up in anything besides breaking the curse.”

You exchange an uneasy look with Namjoon over Dr. Kim’s shoulders. In over ten years of your professional relationship, you’ve never seen a display of emotion from him. Not even when you and he were in the thick of the rainforest, faced with a nearly impossible puzzle and never-ending, bone-chilling rain.

The Infracti woman opens a door to the left of the altar, sliding a slab of stone sideways with just the wave of her hand. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was simply a sensor. You step through, Namjoon behind you, and she pauses in the doorway. The door slides shut behind you, leaving you alone.

A smaller altar, made of the same sand-colored stone, sits unassuming in the center of the tiny room. A curved blade, no longer than your own hand, with a bejeweled hilt sits atop the stone.

You give Namjoon a grim, sideway look. “You know what to do?” you ask him.

He nods, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says.

“It’s archaic,” you grumble.

“They didn’t want humans landing there by accident.”

“I get it,” you admit. “But still.”

He lets out a second slow breath between his teeth, shaking his hands a little as if to rid them of nerves. You feel yourself slide into your professional self.

“You want me to do it?” you offer.

He considers this, then nods. You each stand on one side of the altar, and you lift the blade. No sense in delaying it, you slice through the palm of your hand quickly, hissing between your teeth as you do. Namjoon is ready, palm extended.

“Sorry,” you mutter in advance, and then imitate the cut across his large palm. He makes no noise, but clenches his jaw as you set the blade back where it came from.

“Right to left, not left to right,” you remind him quietly. “At the same time. You ready?”

He nods, curt, and then in one motion you each wipe your bloody palms across the stone - the red smears creating parallel arcs, a cave painting, an ancient expression of your will.

To your left, there is no sound or sign of motion. But the stone wall that closed you in is no longer there.

Now you’re the one battling nerves. You feel your hands shake at your sides, and you fumble for the handle of your luggage. Namjoon comes up beside you and places a gentle hand at the top of your back.

“We’ve got this,” he assures you.

You nod, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” you say, though you’re not sure if it’s a lie. “Okay. Let’s go.”

–

You did not go down, and yet you pass through the door and stand in an Ostium close to the grand palace of Infracticus, the underworld inhabited by all of the Infracti - the Ruins, the Scorns, the Leaves, and all the families whose names didn’t earn a spot in history books, but who have been here all along regardless.

You step into the tiny atrium, pulling your little suitcase behind you. An Infracti man greets you, asking to see identification. As if the wrong person could accidentally slice their hand and magically enter.

“There’s transportation waiting just outside,” the Infracti tells you after he verifies that you are indeed the humans he was waiting for. “We ask that you wear these to conceal your identities.” He hands you each a hooded cloak. You bite back a joke that it’s the vampires who are supposed to wear these, not the humans, but the tiny smile plays across your face unchecked.

The Infracti must understand your expression, because he leans in a little and lowers his voice. “Please understand that we were charged with keeping your presence an absolute secret. This is why we’ve scheduled your arrival for the middle of the night, why we are trying to hide your faces from anyone who may be out and about at odd hours. This is for your own safety as much as anything.”

You wonder at the truth of this. What is the priority - protecting you, as a human? Or protecting the prince’s secret?

Outside, as promised, you’re greeted with the sight of a carriage, like it’s dropped straight out of a historical drama. It’s hard to see, as dark as it is, but you glimpse swirling gold patterns along the trim. Two Infracti men jump down from the front and take the luggage right from your hands. Wordlessly, then move around to the back of the carriage and begin placing your bag and Namjoon’s into thick trunks with ornate carvings that seem to match the carriage’s.

“Have we gone back in time?” Namjoon asks you, barely audible.

Of course the Infracti can hear him. One of them turns, black eyes narrowing. “There is no need for your technology here,” he says flatly. “Our command of magic does more than your electricity and internet ever will.”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Namjoon says, a little stilted. The Infracti doesn’t reply, face blank and unreadable, and shakes the trunks once to make sure they’re latched properly before walking back towards the front of the carriage. You shoot Namjoon a sympathetic look.

Most humans back home can go their whole lives without really interacting with magic or magical people. Of course it’s there, but people with no relationship to magic tend to not notice - their minds explain away the magical. If you hadn’t been interested in Infracticus, you wouldn’t have learned about their magical abilities, wouldn’t have followed that interest into introductory courses on curses and curse-breaking that would end up shaping your life.

It’s a shame, though. Like you, non-magical people can still use and manipulate the universe’s magic if they learn how. The skill is called borrowing - and while there’s theory and procedure behind it, anyone should be able to borrow once they know how. You’ve never understood why so many of your kind turn away from this possibility. It wasn’t easy for you to learn, necessarily, but it wasn’t impossible either.

“We’ll be at the palace in about twenty minutes,” the remaining Infracti, the shorter of the two, tells you. “You’ll be entering through a lower-level entrance - not the main doors. From there, we’ll take you directly to your chambers.”

“Okay,” you say. “We understand. Then once we’re there - then what? Will we be meeting with the prince?”

“You’ll have some time to unpack and sleep more, if you wish,” he says, tilting his head as he considers this. “I was told that you have an audience with the royal family before the midday meal. You will be escorted there by your guards.”

You and Namjoon both murmur your understanding, and the Infracti reaches to open the carriage’s side door, indicating that you should enter.

As you step closer, you find yourself freezing in place, eyes going wide as you notice what’s pulling the carriage. The hooves of their front two legs paw at the ground restlessly, as they toss their cerulean manes. Their eyes swirl black like the Infracti who domesticated them. Their muscular bodies taper to powerful, curled fishtails that float about a foot above the ground, held aloft by their own magic.

“Are they… sea-goats?” Namjoon asks next to you, inching closer to get a better look.

“They’re called amarisca,” you whisper, so awed you can barely speak. Something else you’d only read about in books, something else that had felt like fairy tales, myths, not something that would ever appear in front of you, so close that you can smell their animal musk, the unpleasant tang of their saliva as they chomp at their bits. “They’re not half goat, they’re half horse - look at the faces.”

You’re mesmerized, eyes scanning the beautiful animals, examining their wild eyes, the hues of blue in their fur, the tough scales of their rippling tails. The Infracti holding the door open clears his throat impatiently.

“Sorry,” you say, and Namjoon moves to the carriage. You stay one more second, entranced, before hurrying to follow him into the carriage. The Infracti closes the door behind you and moments later the carriage jerks into motion, carrying you towards the palace of Infracticus.

–

You don’t speak in the carriage; you’re exhausted, you’re terrified, you’re exhilarated. It’s all too much, and none of it meshes well together. You don’t think you could carry on a rational conversation with Namjoon if your life depended on it. Luckily, he closes his eyes and leans his head back. You don’t know if he sleeps, but by the time the carriage finally comes to a stop, you haven’t spoken at all.

The door is opened by the same man who closed it, and he holds out a hand to help you down, which strikes you as nice.

“Thank you,” you murmur. It’s still very dark, and the taller Infracti hurries you through an opened stone door. The other Infracti follows, carrying the trunk holding yours and Namjoon’s belongings as if it weighs nothing.

To him, it must not.

The two men lead you deeper into the palace, wordlessly stalking down corridors, around corners, down nondescript, stone stairways.

After you’ve walked for what feels like quite a while - long enough that you are thoroughly lost - they stop before two decorated doors. The doors go from floor to ceiling, ornate patterns carved into the thick wood. The golden handles gleam in the low lighting.

Two more Infracti - one a woman, one a man - stand guard, flanking the doorway, their backs ramrod straight, their black eyes fathomless.

“You’ll have security at your doors at all times,” the shorter Infracti tells the two of you quietly. “This is Satuel and Dansoo.” He indicates the woman, then the man respectively as he says their names. “As well as keeping you safe in your quarters, they’ll also be your point of contact should you have any requests.”

“The concierge,” you joke, and you’re cowed into silence when four sets of emotionless black eyes turn to you, silently. Beside you, Namjoon shifts just slightly away, as if to distance himself from the embarrassment. Traitor.

Satuel and Dansoo move to pull the doors open, and you enter, letting them fall closed behind Namjoon, who takes up the rear. The guards stay in the corridor, keeping the monsters out. Or, at least, the bad ones.

You look around the main room. Everything drips in deep jewel tones and gold plating. Even the furniture seems too expensive to be real, too expensive to touch. Two couches and a wingback chair circle a low table, all of which sit beside a large heath with a roaring fire. Behind the couches is a high table with two wooden chairs - an eating area, you think. The far wall sports a water feature - water trickling down the wall and ending in a peaceful fountain, rich with floating plants.

You come back to yourself when Namjoon nudges your elbow, shooting you an apologetic look that seems to say, sorry, but I had to.

“Your personal rooms are this way,” the Infracti is saying, in a tone like perhaps he is repeating himself. “You’ll find space for sleeping and bathing, as well as a small study.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking around. “This is beautiful.”

He bows his head at this, pleased. “If there’s anything you need, just inform one of your guards - they’ll see it done. For meals, if you have any particular preferences, you can tell the staff and it will be prepared for you, going forward.”

This is wild, you think. This must be a fucking dream. It feels like you’re on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, the kind you would never be able to afford in real life. The only catch is that everyone at this destination has the ability and natural instinct to want to eat you.

“Thank you, that’s very considerate,” Namjoon says to your right, and once again you’re flooded with relief that he’s here with you, that one of you can be normal.

The two Infracti start to make their way towards the doors, prepared to leave you alone. “Someone will fetch you before your audience with the royal family,” the spokesperson tells you. He indicates what time you should be ready, and they slip from the doors, leaving you and Namjoon alone.

Your wounded hand drips onto the floor. You’d forgotten about it - in the Ostium, in the carriage, in your new rooms. But now, in the quiet, you remember that you’d paid in blood to enter this dream.

“Do you think it’s hard for them?” Namjoon asks, eyeing his own bloody palm. “To resist?”

You leave your suitcase in the middle of the open room and start poking around for a bathroom. “It might not be hard,” you call over your shoulder to him. “If they’ve followed the protection laws, then they may have never hunted a human in their entire lives. But I’m sure they notice. I think it’d be like walking past a bakery and being like, damn, those rolls smell good, but you don’t break the window and murder the rolls, you know?”

Namjoon laughs. “I guess that’s true. If you want one bad enough, you go in and buy it.”

“Exactly,” you say, a bit of triumph in your voice as you find a bathroom. You wash your hand, letting the blood rinse down the drain, and then return to the main room, kicking over your suitcase and unzipping it, rummaging for a t-shirt you can use as a bandage.

“Go wash that,” you instruct. “I’ll rip this and we can share it.”

“My hero,” he says dryly, and disappears into what you assume is a mirror-image of your own bedroom and bathroom.

The Infracti who’d brought you here had recommended that you get some more sleep, and you know it’s a good idea after the barely-three-hours you’d logged last night. But you’re too anxious and keyed up to even hold still, let alone rest. Instead, you spend some time unpacking - putting your clothing and toiletries away, and then setting up books and paper in the small office. By the time it occurs to you that you might want to clean yourself up before being presented to the royal family, it’s too late.

This time, your guards escort you. You walk in silence, full of nerves. You want to try to chat with the guards, pepper them with questions, but you get the idea that they aren’t meant to be too friendly with you.

When you reach the throne room, the guards that are already in place move over, making room for yours. They stand, straight-backed and stoic, and the woman - Satuel - lifts a hand to show that you should enter.

You take a shuddering breath and look sideways at Namjoon. His face has gone a funny color, and his jaw juts slightly as he clenches it.

“We’ll be fine,” you tell him quietly. “Shake off the nerves. Let’s go be professionals.”

He looks at you like you’re a little crazy. Maybe you are. “No one’s ever done this,” he says a bit hollowly. “You know that, right?”

“Which part?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs under his breath and starts to move forward through the decorated doorway and into the empty, echoing throne room.

<- Prev | Next ->

thank you so much for reading!!! i promise taehyung is IN the next chapter lmaooo :') i hope you liked this one and you can expect things to start moving very soon!!

180 notes · View notes

dearestvante · 7 months

Text

stuck with you; kth. | 01.

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader , namjoon x fem!reader genre: non-idol au, exes to lovers (?), roomates au, angst, fluff (??idk), miniseries warnings: short chapters, lowercase writing, swearing, kinda toxic relationship, unrequited love, fear of commitment, use of petnames (baby & honey), tae is a menace and an asshole but that’s cause he loves you and you’re with someone else right in front of him wc: 1k

masterlist.

__________________________________________

your soft giggles fill the room as your boyfriend kisses you all over the face then moves down to your neck, even though he knows how ticklish you are.

“joon, stop, i might hurt you!” you say as your head falls back, against the armrest of the couch, still giggling.

“you could never hurt me, baby” your boyfriend replies, kissing you so gently, sometimes you wonder if he even wants to. you were not used to this softness, kisses with your ex were always so passionate, breathless, even.

nice, here we go again. you’re making out with your boyfriend yet still, you’re thinking about your ex. and his kisses. and the way his long, delicate fingers roamed your body every time he pressed his soft, pink lips on yours.

suddenly the lock on the front door turns and, speak of the devil, the person from your thoughts appears behind it. the scene doesn’t faze either of you, considering you still live together.

you push namjoon away, and sit up on the couch, smoothing out your clothes. your boyfriend does the same, though also throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest.

“don’t stop for my benefit” taehyung says as he walks through the living room, towards his room, a cocky smile spreading across his face. he always does that. no “sorry for interrupting” or anything, just a childish joke or an insensitive comment, and every time, you wish you would’ve just kicked him out the day you two broke up, instead of letting him stay until he finds a new place. but something inside of you didn’t let you do that.

“why is he still here?” joon asks you, with one eyebrow raised, his jaw tensed. he’s angry, and you can’t exactly blame him.

“cause apartments are not cheap” taehyung answers instead of you, ignoring the fact that he’s not really part of the conversation. “but i don’t expect you to know that, having mommy and daddy resolve everything for you”

namjoon is seconds away from breaking your ex boyfriend’s perfectly sculpted face, you can already see him clenching his fist. yes, he was wealthy - well, his parents were - but he never bragged about it, nor he took everything he got for granted. you knew about his status, because he was your boyfriend, but how did taehyung find out about it was a mystery.

you take namjoon’s hands, rubbing them with your thumbs, comfortingly.

“don’t listen to him, baby” you say, making taehyung scoff and retreat to his room. “he wants to see you pissed off, don’t give him that”

“next time, you’re coming over. i can’t deal with this shit anymore”

“i will. and i’m sorry” you say, lowering your gaze, but he lifts your chin up.

“it’s not your fault that he’s a dick” he claims, and leans closer to kiss you once again. and you’re waiting for those butterflies to finally wake up and cause that sweet feeling in your stomach, but they never show.

taehyung was standing in the kitchen, ready to enjoy his bowl of jjajjangmyeon, when your bedroom door opened, revealing you and your boyfriend, hand in hand, smiling at each other. safe to say, he lost his appetite very quickly. to clear any misunderstandings, you weren’t the problem. your angelic smile that turned his whole world upside down wasn’t it either. the buff, six-feet-tall man on your right, and the fact that he was the cause of your joy, that was the problem. he hated namjoon with every little cell in his body. not because he was such a bad person - he was quite the opposite, actually, which made taehyung hate him even more - but because he had you. he could hold your hand, kiss you, touch you. all the things taehyung couldn’t do anymore. but who’s fault was that, actually?

he turned his back to the two of you, but still kept watching, from the corner of his eye. namjoon talked about something as you walked through the living room, you watching him so attentively, even if it was something you didn’t really understand or cared too much about. the same way you used to look at him, every time he tried to explain to you one of his new projects. eyes glued on him, nodding continuously, always asking questions or sharing your own ideas to show that you care. cause you did, you always cared about him. the memory makes him smile faintly.

“don’t tell me your little prince has a curfew, it’s not even ten pm” he says after you close the door behind namjoon. “damn, maybe living in a luxury apartment for free isn’t all that”

“he doesn’t” you reply, as you walk into the kitchen area, with your arms folded, brows furrowed.

“want some?” taehyung asks, pushing his bowl of ramyeon towards you.

“taehyung, i don’t understand you. you broke up with me, now one minute you act like we’re friends and then in the next, you treat me like i don’t even exist. not to mention your attitude towards my boyfriend…”

taehyung’s jaw tenses cause of that last word, the one he wishes you would never use for anyone else. he doesn’t say anything, mind too blurred to formulate a coherent thought, so he just storms into his room. on his way he can hear your last words and your sigh.

“my point, exactly.”

he’s leaning against the door, aggressively wiping away the stray tears, born from frustration and anger. he’s not angry at you, he could never be. he’s angry at himself, for being a coward, an idiot, for letting you go so easily. he fucked up, badly. you probably hate him by now, and you have every reason to. you should hate him, he thinks, for treating you like this. but at the same time, he can’t help but selfishly hope that someday, somehow you might take him back. he knows he has to fix this, he wants to fix this, but he doesn’t have the courage to do what it takes.

he sits there for a while, like the sad, little boy who’s afraid of his own feelings.

__________________________________________

a/n. hey lovelies! i'm back, with a new fic and im planning on making this one mature, something i've never done before, so bear with me pls and minors stay away!!! anywayss i hope you will enjoy it as much as i did writing it hehe. take care ❤️‍🩹

#kim taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #bts x fem!reader #taehyung x female reader #namjoon ff #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n

43 notes · View notes

sea-moon-star · 2 years

Text

THE PERILLA LEAVES SCANDAL || KTH

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

WC: 1k

Summary: Inspired by the MBTI Lab episode of BTS, wherein Tae makes it clear that he's ANTI perilla leaves & absolutely wouldn't accept his S.O. peeling leaves for his friend, as it's far too romantic & intimate a gesture. And he's as possessive & jealous as it gets (not in a toxic way ofc, this is BTS we're talking about. They're gentlemen in the truest sense). Also featuring the Wooga Squad & mentions of Our Beloved Summer!! 🌊🌙⭐️

---------------------------------------------

Y/N's POV

I couldn't believe my luck, I'd been in love with Kim Taehyung since I was a starry eyed teenager and as much as every song, fanfic and dream of mine revolved around him... I'd never once imagined that we'd actually meet in person, forget the fact that we'd end up dating. He was THE Kim Taehyung, member of the biggest musical act in the world, winner of handsomest face in the world and the bias of millions of people across the globe. And somehow, I'd found my way to him and he'd found his path to me. I worked in the k-drama industry as a writer and all it had taken was him singing an OST for my show, one which was led by one of his best friends - Choi Woosik to serve as our meet cute.

He'd come on set multiples times- to meet his friend, to watch us incorporate the song into the show, sometimes to suggest storylines for the show itself. But by the end as the wrap party came near, he came up to me and made it clear that he was just finding excuses to be on set so he could spend more time with me. And just like that, I happened to show him, the 4 o clock tattoo I'd had on my flesh, since I was in university. It was his song, it was proof that I'd fallen in love with him way before he'd fallen for me. And just like that, we began our lives together.

Tae's POV

I'd just begun dating Y/N but it felt like I'd known her a lifetime. And it felt so unfair that she had years to get to know me but I'd met her only so recently. I'd taken it up to spend all my free time with her so I could catch up on knowing more about her life, the same way in which she knew everything about mine. Ofcourse, that meant my friends and others began to complain that I'd all but forgotten them because I had a girlfriend now. So to appease them, I decided that this weekend I'd have a joint dinner with the Wooga squad and her. It seemed like a safe and easy bet for her to meet them before she met the members or anyone else as she already knew Wooshik and was acquainted with the television industry.

I was far more worried she'd faint the moment one of the Bangtan members walked in, she was a huge army of us and I wasn't certain she was still ready to face them one on one outside of a concert setting. It amused me to no end, seeing how flustered she got around them even though her work routinely involved meeting celebrities. It just showed how this professional and calm headed 20 something, turned to a decade younger version of herself the moment she thought of BTS. But that was an exception, apart from that she amazed me at how she stayed calm in any situation. I'd always worried about how someone would fit into the glamour and yet pressures my lifestyle provided but halfway through the meal as the 6 of us sat down and ate grilled meat and drank baekju, I knew she was born for it.

It was like she's fit right in without any effort at all. But just as I was happy about how comfortable she was with everyone, I bit my tongue wondering if I'd spoken far too soon. Maybe it was far too cozy and I shouldn't have let it get this far, atleast that's what I thought to myself as I saw her help Seojoon pick up and seperate the perilla leaves on his dish when he struggled with it. It was probably the fact that I was drunk but something about that set me off.

I got up from the table and left the place, with the door banging behind me without bothering to give any explanation even as they asked me for the same. I went out for a breath of fresh air to cool myself down, as minutes she followed. She tried to get me to tell her what was wrong even as I insisted I wanted to be left alone. But she kept pushing and I couldn't stop myself anymore.

I cornered her against the wall, our eyes gazing into each other's ferociously, my hands pinning her from both sides keeping her from escaping as I growled softly under my breath and said, "You really don't know what's wrong? I'm your boyfriend, you do remember that right? Or do you need reminding? Me. Not the other members of bangtan that you blush over every time a new music video drops and certainly not any of my hyungs in there who you're happily serving drinks and peeling perilla leaves for. They can get their own bloody girlfriends but you're mine, you wanna be all kind and helpful then do it for me. Pick me, choose me and love me. Not them. I can't tell you how my blood boils when I see you being that close to someone else. I know that neither of them nor you would ever betray me but still... You don't know how amazing you are. It would be so easy to get swayed, so please just downplay your charms and keep them close to your heart. For me? Please? I can't bear the thought of losing you. I thought I had everything I ever wanted with my career and family but until I met you, I didn't know what I was missing. And now that I have you, I can't imagine life without you. Am I making any sense at all?"

Y/N's POV

I wanted to be mad at him, so badly for creating such a scene. But there was something about the way his pout made my heart ache, that all I wanted was to see his boxy smile return to his face. He was jealous, the man who could have anyone in the universe wanted me and was insecure about our relationship? I laughed despite myself, unable to process how this was happening. I couldn't be angry at him, I loved him too much to not give in.

So I cupped his face with my palms, steadily staring at him at eye level as I said firmly, "Taehyung, you are the love of my life. You have been for more than a decade. And I promise, nothing and no one could ever come in the way of that. I hated the color green, I didn't know a single thing about art galleries, I had never heard good jazz music but I now that's changed. And it's all because of you. I've always wanted to go to a BTS concert, always wanted someone who'd not take me for granted and prioritise me, I always wanted a house full of children but I thought all of that was impossible until I met you. So do I have to keep going or do you understand how much I love you? And why me pouring a drink or peeling perilla leaves is an absolute non issue?"

He nodded and sighed in relief as leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead, leaving me weak in my knees. Once again, I couldn't believe his duality, the fact that he was capable of going from that angry to upset to this soft and caring in a split second. And wrapped my hand around his waist and pulled him close as smiled and walked back into the restaurant, together- the perilla leaves scandal left behind us.

THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️

#kthv #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #taetae #bts vante #bts v x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #mbti lab #perilla leaves #our beloved summer #wooga squad

110 notes · View notes

99liners · 2 years

Note

Hi! I dont think this has been asked before about the Tatemae men, at least I couldn’t find one on it lol. But how the boys react to losing their jobs? Something like, someone better fit their position, tearing down the building to make something else so workers got let go etc. ??

henlo and yes, it hasn't! thank you so much for going through the masterlists first, that means a lot <3

kaiho!jjk: he would become the rogue cop. he just refuses to give up his position because ever since middle school, he has grown into the cop persona, and he won't give it up without a fight. he would also not surrender his gun. would relocate azumi and himself to a secret location somewhere so the cops cannot get to him. would start dealing with shady people and doing essentially illegal things to get back at the government for not seeing his value and patriotism. the only upside i can think of is that azumi and him would be able to spend more time together as he is mostly spying on people through his computer in the basement. but the question is, would azumi accept this lawless person as her partner?

enouement!kth: omg, such a huge blow to his narcissism. he would fall off such a tall ass pedestal of his own doing that it would take quite a while to heal from such a deep wound. i cannot imagine how sarcastic tanaz would get. she just wouldn’t stop sneering at him every waking moment, letting him taste his own medicine and kth also has nothing to say for himself other than just nursing his wounds quietly.

nodus tollens!pjm: he wouldn’t accept it, he just wouldn’t accept the fact that he has been sacked as the lead choreographer and would still show up to work every day. rei would often drive to the police station to bail her husband out for causing nuisance in a public place.

adronitis!knj: he’s the calm one. would consult yoongo and challenge his let off, even if he has to go till the supreme court. aria also would support him because as shitty as her husband was to her, he is a respectable scientist who has always kept the need of scientific advancements over himself.

psychomachy!jhs: mm, the only way jhs would be replace is when hyuk is of age and takes over the company. i can imagine jhs being too controlling, like he would always go about “this is the right way to this and this” and would try to rule over his son but dany would control the situation, like she always does and make jhs see the truth that he doesn’t have to work so hard anymore.

liberosis!myg: he is the calm one, yes but in this case he would get so angry that in the heat of the moment he would take help from his underworld friends to get back at the person who replaced him as partner in the law firm. on the other hand, shiza is scared of him. this is a new side of him and she hates it and threatens to leave him. after almost a death, he regains his composure in fear that he might lose his wife and swears to drag the person through mud for the rest of their lives. every one should get ready for a legal fight, sorry, multiple legal fights because yoongo is going to make a lot of claims.

#asks #anon #tatemae series #kaiho #enouement #nodus tollens #adronitis #psychomachy #liberosis #askjaim #still with queue

14 notes · View notes

rosyadventure · 2 years

Text

Fics by Theme || Like a Boss

Masterlist of Lists | Holy Grail Fics

In celebration of Women's History Month (in the US) and (belated) International Women's Day, these are my favorite fics that star a strong, confident, badass OC.

💪 = read these first (if you haven't already)!

P.S. I was planning on releasing this list earlier in the month but I've been busy studying for my board exams 😅. Hopefully I'll be able to get on a more regular schedule in mid-April after it's over!

After Midnight Series (m) by @gyukult | JJK | doctor reader, bad boy JK, fwb

Watch (read?) as the OC realizes that she does want a family, children, and white picket fence after all, and navigates finding a serious relationship while maintaining boundaries at work.

“Jeon Jungkook only likes seeing you after midnight.”

At the Heart of It All Series (m) 💪 by loseyoutoloveme (AO3) | KTH ft. Jaehyun (NCT) | college au, established relationship au, CS major reader, soccer captain TH, football captain Jaehyun, e2l, Jaehyun really calls Tae every letter in the alphabet except V

For all of the women in STEM out there, a story where the OC learns to own her intelligence and ambition instead of hiding behind a facade to please her parents. Tae isn't painted in the best light in this story (and of course, this is a fictional character) so you might want to skip this one if that upsets you.

How much longer can you keep up your ruse of being the perfect daughter and future, supportive soccer wife before everything comes crashing down?

Break My Mind's Eye Series (m) by @flowerwrites06 | JJK ft. MYG | arranged marriage au, fashion designer reader, drug lord JK, older brother TH, police officer YG, angst, mentions of drug use

A tale as old as time: sacrificing yourself for someone you love. I'm amazed at how the OC manages to flourish as a fashion designer in the face of adversity, and has the clarity of mind to make tough decisions that affect her and those around her.

"Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal."

Chism Series 💪 by @kpopfanfictrash | KTH | fantasy au, magic reader, winter god TH, s2l

This OC is strong in terms of her magic abilities as well as her resolution to stand up for what's right. She has an open mind and a lot of curiosity, which drives her harrowing journey to bring back seasons in a land that is permanently stuck in summer.

“Do not listen to what the prisoner has to say and above else, keep your head. The old gods may be dead, but the humans are living.”

Fight for You Series (m) 💪 by @ahundredtimesover | JJK | rich au, heiress/marketing executive reader, bodyguard JK, s2l, angst

All of us have had hurtful assumptions made about us – in the OC's case, everyone thinks that she's superficial and more interested in socializing than taking over her parents' business. What I love about this OC is how she stays true to herself and allows others continue to think what they want (even though it still hurts).

Jungkook takes the job as your bodyguard with the sole intention of earning enough money to fund his dreams. It takes him a long time to realize that his dreams are a lot closer than he previously thought.

From Home Series (m) 💪 by @gyukult | JJK | fake dating, baker reader, rich JK, e2l

The OC has a culinary degree, two jobs, and several bones to pick with Jungkook (the biggest of which seems to be his lackadaisical attitude toward money, even though he no longer has any). While working hard to achieve her dream of opening a bakery, she also learns how to accept help from others.

When Jungkook is kicked out, cut-off from his parents’ money, and forced to be a member of the working class, he views you as his ticket back home.

Matchmaker Series (m) 💪 by @bonvoyagenoona | JJK ft. MYG | CEO reader, banker JK, CFO YG, e2l

Aside from the fact that this OC founded her own business using evidence-based methods of matching people together (super cool in and of itself), I love how she's so confident in the algorithm that she's willing to take on the worst possible customer.

"How are you supposed to help find Namjoon the perfect match when Jungkook keeps sneering at your state-of-the-art, well-researched system? Then again, there’s nothing that your science can’t fix."

No Blueberries (m) by @gyukult | KTH | college au, reader & TH work at the library, annoyances2l (enemies seems too harsh)

It's refreshing to read about an OC who straightforwardly and unabashedly pursues a relationship with someone she's interested in.

You're a simple woman who knows what you want: Kim Taehyung.

Office Hours Series (m) by @bonvoyagenoona | KNJ ft. KSJ | college au, professor reader/NJ/SJ, e2l

For all of the women out there struggling through their graduate studies in academia, the OC tackles challenges that almost seem too real: balancing teaching and research duties with mental health, the struggle to get tenure, and dealing with divorce when all your work is tied to your married name.

"Just over twenty-four hours ago, both of you were looking into each others’ eyes from across a conference room table, screaming that the other would shut up. Now, you realize that there are so many more questions to ask, and that you desperately want to find out each other’s answers."

Once Upon a Bracelet (m) by @ladyartemesia | JJK ft. KSJ | fantasy, sorceress reader, prince SJ/JK, e2l

I love how fierce this OC is – she's never one to back away from a challenge, and she finds someone who kindles her sparks into wildfires.

“Jeon Jungkook is (probably) a former necromancer and (definitely) the wrong prince… but the bracelets tell a different story.”

Ready or Not Series (m) by @littlemisskookie | KTH | Battle Royale (Hunger Games-esque) au, dystopian au, student reader/TH, ☠️

NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. A story in which the OC has been trained her whole life to win the Battle Royale, and she fully intends to win.

"Your class field trip turns out to be a battle to the death."

Reliability Series by @mrsparknamjoon | KTH | CEO au, businesswoman reader, CEO TH, e2l

A series that starts with "fake it 'til you make it" and turns into loving yourself enough to know when you should leave a poor work environment and relationship that isn't working out.

You don't know what you got until it's gone. When you leave Taehyung's company, he realizes that he's lost more than a trusted advisor and former business school rival.

Scumbag Series by @tangerineyoongles | MYG & PJM (feat. KSJ) | ongoing, bookstore owner reader, flower shop owner JM, angst, s2f2l, mentions of death and alcoholism

Strength comes in different shapes and sizes. Sometimes the hardest thing to do in life is to admit that you were wrong, acknowledge that your actions hurt others, and move forward the best you can.

"Life had not dealt you a favorable hand, but instead of trying to make the best of it, you live your life with a bitter kick in your step, taking anyone and everyone you can down with you."

Straight Shooter (m) by @snackhobi | MYG | futuristic/sci fi au, weapons builder reader, assassin YG, e2l

I appreciate how this OC is confident in her abilities as an amazing weapon designer and continues on with her work (albeit with stronger protection) despite a terrifying break in.

Yoongi swears that the only reason he visits you is because you’re the best gunsmith in the city.

The Road to Radiant by @kookskingdom | JJK | gamer au, team captain reader, rival team member JK, e2l

A reminder that even good leaders have moments of self-doubt, and that teams are only as strong as the weakest link.

When one of your team members leaves to join your rival team, you scramble to find a replacement.

#bts fic rec #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

106 notes · View notes

seokjiniwithluv · 2 years

Text

Magic Shop 01 | kth

⇒ Summary: When Kim Taehyung is a lonely club singer, who aspires to become a painter meets you, the daughter of a rich CEO and is forced to marry Park Jimin. Their tragic love story begins to unfold.

⇒ Pairing: Taehyung X Reader, Jimin X Reader.

⇒ Word Count: 1.5k

⇒ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, arranged marriage, CEO! Jimin, Club singer! Taehyung.

⇒ Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smoking, swearing,

⇒ A/N: Okay! I am back with another fic, but it's also something I wrote in first persons point of view like last year so if I am so bad at proof reading, usual, so sorry if there's any mistakes!!

Masterlist: 01 | 02

"Since you are both twenty-one, it's time to finalise you engagement," your father said coldly, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

Your romantic life was never open to you, and you were never free to love someone else. Your father had promised you would marry Park Jimin, the Park Corporations' only son. Your father had only recently decided that it was time to finalise your engagement to Jimin.

You were forced to meet Jimin and fall in love with him since you were young, but you did the exact opposite. Because you were both stubborn, you ended up becoming good friends because you both despised the idea of marrying each other. During your high school years, you both conspired, made bad bets, and made a few people cry. Jimin was your partner in crime, but the prospect of marrying him made you sick.

The worst bet you ever made was on who would fall in love first. Jimin was guilty of this when he fell in love with a sweet girl in one of his university classes. She was very nice and understanding about your future engagement because she loved and cared about Jimin and understood that you two had no feelings for each other.

"I want you to have this," Mr. Park said, sliding over a navy velvet box across the table towards you. "It was Jimin's grandmother's ring and now I want you to have it since you're both engaged."

You opened the small velvet box in front of you, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring with smaller diamonds encircling the band. It was breathtaking, but you knew you didn't deserve or want it. The ring was intended for Jimin's secret girlfriend, whom he adored more than you.

You nervously glanced between your father and Mr. Park, who gave you a small smile and insisted you put on the ring. You wanted to find love with someone else rather than be forced into something you didn't want to do. You aspired to be a self-sufficient woman and the heir to the family business. You knew the only reason they wanted this marriage so badly was to merge Park Corporations and K.J Group.

"Thank you," you nodded, slipping the diamond ring on your finger. It looked so beautiful on your hand, but it was official. You were now engaged to Park Jimin within the matter of seconds - the day you dreaded for years. "It's truly beautiful."

"Next week, you and Jimin will be moving in together," your father said, pulling out a key from the pocket of his suit jacket and passing it over towards you. "I brought you and Jimin a nice apartment in the middle of the city."

Every ticking second you sat there, it became more difficult to breathe. It was as if you couldn't make a choice for yourself. First, you were forced to marry, and second, you were forced to live together under the same roof. You had feelings for Jimin, but not in that way. He was your friend who helped you get through difficult times and on whom you could rely. Being his wife, on the other hand, made you sick. Nothing will ever change the fact that you had no affection for each other.

"Excuse me," you said, letting out a sigh. "I need to go to the restroom."

You stood up slowly, adjusting your dress before heading to the restrooms. You, on the other hand, took a detour to the bar. You sat on the bar stool, waiting for the bartender to come and serve you.

"Congratulations on your engagement," the bartender smiled, pointing towards you ring and wiping the surface in front of you. "I bet you father is thrilled."

"Seokjin, you know I've been dreading this day for years," you groaned, resting the side of your head with the palm of your hand. "Look, it's going to be my fault when Jimin has to break up with Jiyeon."

"She knows about the engagement, right?" He asked, placing a drink in front of you.

Kim Seokjin, the owner of this restaurant. Your family used to come here quite frequently before you all drifted apart. He was a few years older, but he became your friend when you and your father began arguing at the table. You would always sit here and talk to Seokjin because he was always willing to give you advice or listen to your endless rants.

"She does," You nodded, taking a sip of the drink Seokjin handed you and scrunching your nose at the bitter taste that entered your mouth. "If I didn't make that dumb bet two years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess and we would've been happy together."

"This isn't you fault Y/N," Seokjin reassured you. "He was going to fall in love sooner or later. Jimin has all the girls falling at his feet, you are just lucky to be married to someone so handsome."

"I don't want Jimin in that way," You scoffed, mixing the liquid in your glass with a straw, thinking that this would improve the taste of the alcohol. "Why me? I have two other siblings, why aren't they not being forced into what I am going through?"

"Maybe because Park Corporations is the biggest thing right now with their advances in new technology and brilliant ideas," Seokjin shrugged. "And by your luck, they only have on son and he is the same age as you. I'm jealous, if I wasn't married then I would want to marry Park Jimin too."

"Shut up -"

"Seokjin, the usual please." someone called out behind you, cutting you off.

You turn around to see a boy with electric blue hair, slightly wavy and messy, wearing a worn-out suit. He wore dark eye make-up which made his eyes stand out. The dark coloured make-up that surrounded his eyes, distracted the attention from the dark circles forming underneath.

"Ah, V!" Seokjin beamed, quickly preparing this guy's usual drink. You had never seen this person before, especially in this restaurant where you visit every Friday night. "V, meet Y/N."

"Hello," he waved, flashing a smile at you. "I'm Tae - uh no, V.

"Y/N."

"I know who you are," the guy named V replied. "The girl who is the heir to one of the biggest company in this city. You're the girl who is supposedly going to change K.J Group, am I right?"

“I supposed,” you muttered, letting out a deep sigh. You weren’t surprised people knew about your existence. It was all over the tabloids about the chosen heir to K.J Group, and the amount of press conferences you’ve done when your father was unable to attend due to business trips or important meetings.

“Must be nice,” V said, leaning against the counter and grabbing the drink that Seokjin placed in front of him. “To have everything handed to you just like that, you’ll have no trouble with live anyways.”

“What’s that supposed to me?” you snapped, shooting a glare towards V and taking a sip out of your drink.

“All rich people are the same,” V shrugged, swirling his drink around his glass. “Things are handed to you on a silver platter, and you’re instantly the top of everything. No finance worries or anything, you’re rich and we have to work hard for what we want to achieve.”

In his arrogant triumph, he smirked -just a small pouting of the lips and a narrowing of the eyes. It was subtle, it was even more infuriating for you who caught a glimpse of it. You could tell this guy named “V” wasn’t polite and he was just enjoying this small talk.

You could already tell that V acted clearly on impulse and created the reason for his actions after the fact he was just so arrogant to someone who he had just met. He was different, and he didn’t care about what he was saying to whoever.

“V, enough,” Seokjin sighed, the soft gaze that promised laughter and easy banter turned into a glare with an intensity that locked onto V. “She’s a customer, and you are a singer. You must respect everyone around you no matter what your view is on them.”

“Y/N, we are leaving,” a voice cut in, causing everyone to turn around. It was Jimin with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his trousers and his hair that was styled almost so perfectly before had fallen in front of his face.

“Look who it is,” V muttered bitterly under his breath. “Prince Charming.”

You ignored V and turned your full attention to Jimin. You nodded and said your final goodbye to Seokjin, and completely ignoring the presence of V. After tonight, you were glad to never see V again, as your new life was now beginning with Jimin.

108 notes · View notes

taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

The Island | KTH (Teaser)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au (Kind of), roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 844

Warnings: swearing

Notes: A brand new story:) This is a totally different vibe so I am really nervous to post this…it starts off somewhat serious and a bit creepy but the story turns quite fluffy! Anyway, let me know what you guys think!:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung and you share a look before walking through to the kitchen and living room. You approach the rooms slowly and carefully, afraid of what you might find. What surprises could be lurking? Suddenly the white glow of the TV can be seen, making you jump with its sudden brightness. Why the hell did the TV just turn on? Is this like, a haunted house? Are you being fucking haunted? Okay, maybe that’s dramatic.

The screen is bright white with nothing else on it. You turn to face Taehyung who is already staring at you with brows pinched together in confusion. Same Taehyung, same. The two of you decide to walk closer to the TV when dark, bold numbers appear.

“10….9…8…..”

The sound of soft music can be heard playing from the TV, similar to the music that’s played in an elevator, as numbers counting down from 10 begins. You feel your insides twist and turn.

“….7….6…..”

Panicked, the two of you inch closer and closer. You two stand here waiting for something, anything to occur because these might be the longest 10 seconds of your life. The millions of questions you have only multiplying. With the seconds counting down and getting closer to zero, your breathing about fucking stops. What is going to happen? You can feel your palms grow sweaty as your heart beats out of your chest. It feels like the countdown to the end of the world.

“….5….4….3…”

You don’t think Taehyung realizes just how close he is to you, his shoulders bumping into yours. You guess fear does funny things even between strangers.

“….2…..1…….”

And then it finally happens. The timer finally reaches fucking zero. And it is safe to say your attention has been caught…anyone’s would be if a screen greets them with their god damn names.

“Welcome Kim Taehyung and Y/N Y/LN”

Your names on the screen has you automatically feeling nauseas. What sort of sick game is this? Is someone setting you up? Pranking you? If so, shits not funny. But also, why is Taehyung here? Your eyes focus on the screen as it moves to the next slide.

“It is a great honor that you two have made it this far. You have been carefully selected in this company’s project. After a lot of consideration and impressive results—we have decided to move you to the next phase.”

Naturally, very naturally you become even more confused than you fucking started. What projects? What company? You can hear Taehyung swallow hard, his nerves spiking with each word he reads. Then the slides continue.

“To put it simply, we are in the business of love.”

Huh? Huh?

Taehyung and you break your focus on the screen to steal a glance at one another very briefly before turning your heads back to the TV. What the hell they mean love? What is this absolute nonsense?

“Our use of science, technology and logic has got us here today. We test and heavily observe our chosen subjects and decide if they are the perfect match. We then move them to the final phase: The Island. This is where the two subjects meet and get along for the first time. The place they will undoubtedly fall in love.”

You can’t help that your mouth falls open, you are sure your eyes are bulging out of your head. You dare to turn to look at Taehyung and he isn’t looking much better.

Before you can really gather any thoughts the slides continue.

“Our success rate is 99%. You WILL fall in love here, it is most probable. Other subjects will come to fall in love quickly, other will take their time. BUT don’t take too long~ If two subjects are taking too long to make progress we will send a ‘Request’ to move things along and if you fail to meet said request there will be a penalty. And you have 24 hours to complete the request. This is to help you.”

You shiver while reading the words before you. You are now too anxious to even look at Taehyung right now…you don’t want to even see his reaction to all of this. Is he anxious like you? Is he laughing because there’s no way this is real? Is he nodding along taking notes because he believes it? You don’t want to fucking know!

“We give soulmates the opportunity to meet and thrive. This particular project has been in the works for well over a year.”

You blink lazily at that. Well over a year? WELL OVER A YEAR? They’ve been watching you for over a year?!

“We have carefully observed each one of you in great detail. There is nothing we don’t know. We have matched you two to be most compatible.”

Nothing they don’t know? What the hell does that mean? How exactly did they fucking observe you two? You stand here with eyes wide open and mouth agape. Taehyung mirrors your expression. He doesn’t want to believe this either.

“And you two are finally ready to proceed with The Island.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic

245 notes · View notes

volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

Unorthodox - An Embry Call x vampire!fem!Reader Story - Part 3

A/N: I thought the second part was big, but this is bigger.

A/N 2: I'M SUPER HAPPY BECAUSE STEFANIA AND GREECE ARE ON THE EUROVISION 2021 FINAL !!

A/N 3: Again, (Y/N) likes expensive things.

A/N 4: This part is a bit cheeky, and it makes my heart melt thinking about Embry.

A/N 5: Enjoy

No of Words: 6300+

Through the parts, mentions of: Abusive relationship, Attacks, Hunt, Illusions, Loneliness, Mental health, Murder, Sex / Sex language / Sexual activities, Suicide, Swear language, Wild imagination

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part 1 / Part 2

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Unorthodox" Tag List (reply if you want to be added or removed): @eunoia-kth @eugeniapet @aquanova99 @foggyturtleknightangel @avecletempsy @girlgirlgirlnormal @hshehdyhd @musicandpenguins @letskidnapsenpai @foreveror-never @kpopgirlbtssvt @adaydreamaway08

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Embry’s POV

Hunting was a first-time and unique experience for me. As shifters, we didn’t need to hunt like regular wolves did; we ate normal, human food. We mostly ate the food Emily would prepare for the whole pack, and, thank God, her food was just as amazing as she was herself.

Honestly, we had to give her more credit than she accepted. She had to cook huge food portions to satisfy our insatiable wolf appetite, and she spent too much in her kitchen cooking for us every single day. She was like our wolf mom - if we could consider Sam as our wolf dad, making sure we were fed, healthy, and unharmed every day.

(Y/N) was running beside me, led by her vampire instinct to hunt. She was truly beautiful - she exuded so much power and confidence in whatever she did. I couldn’t help myself from turning to look at her every minute or so, watching the wind passing through her (y/h/l) hair, her eyes glistening in a deep gold color, her lips slightly parted. Every now and then, we would pass by a ray of sunshine, and her skin would glow like the most beautiful diamond I have ever come upon.

I didn’t know if it was the imprinting, but watching her doing her “vampire stuff” did not repel me at all; on the contrary, I felt closer and more drawn to her. She felt comfortable enough to open up to me, though I knew I had many more things to learn about her, and I was willing to wait for her to tell me anything she wanted.

I didn’t realize that transforming into a vampire could be as stressful as it was phasing into a wolf. I never had to think about it, because they are supposed to be our enemies, not people to sympathize with. In the end, I realized that we weren’t so different - just like us, most of the vampires we’ve come across, did not choose this lifestyle. In their case, though, it was someone else who decided for them; someone else who took away their choice in living a normal life.

I knew that, under normal circumstances, I would have never met or come across (Y/N) - and if I did, I would probably keep my distance from her. But I also knew that I was grateful that the pack made this “unofficial” agreement with the Cullens, and I could meet her, and be together maybe? Things were going fast here, and I didn’t exactly know if we were dating or just casual friends because of the imprinting. I didn’t want to believe she felt no connection to me, but I also would not receive the vulnerability she showed before as a sign she was into me. I would wait for her to decide, to tell me what she wanted for us. Whatever she chose, I’d accept it, as long as she was happy and alive.

She slowed down a little, looking directly at me. “At this point, we have to take in our surroundings, to take in every sound and smell around us. It is important to distinguish between an animal and a person, and control ourselves, to avoid anything bad happening.” She started explaining the process of hunting, and I could only nod at her for now, to assure her I understood what she was telling me.

She stood still for a few minutes, closing her eyes and breathing in every smell around us. “It’s a bit easier for me to “read” the environment around me. I create an illusion up to a certain distance, and if anything or anyone falls in the illusion, I can basically “see” them and understand their nature, what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling. That’s why it became a bit easier for me to abstain from human blood in the years after I decided to follow the vegetarian diet. I already kept my distance from humans, so I could avoid them easier.”

She suddenly opened her eyes and ran forward. I ran after her, trying to be close to her but also keep my distance. She stopped on top of a boulder, eyeing a mountain lion a few feet below us. She turned to me and nodded towards the lion, motioning me to stay quiet, before stroking my cheek lightly. I shivered under her touch and when she let go, I craved more.

In a swift move, she launched towards the lion, growling. The lion growled back at her, and I couldn’t help but growl at it as well. (Y/N) let out an animalistic growl as she fought to immobilize the lion, before sinking her teeth into its neck. Normally, the sighting would make my stomach turn, but, again, nothing was normal in our lives.

I watched closely as she sank her teeth in the lion’s neck once more, gulping the blood in the process. When she finally lifted her head, there was only a small strip of blood falling out of the left side of her mouth - her whole appearance still perfect, despite the fight. She looked at me, sweeping the blood with her pointer finger and licking it slowly. I don’t know why I was turned on by the sighting, but I was. Quite turned on.

She smiled cheekily at me, starting to giggle. And then, as if she was air, she suddenly disappeared in front of my eyes. She didn’t run away; she literally disappeared. I slightly freaked out, but then, I felt a small kiss under my ear, and I knew it was (Y/N). The sneaky little bastard “blinded” my vision, and was playing games with my head.

“Sorry. I was just messing with you.” She grinned, and snuggled in my side, wrapping her hands around my face. The smell of blood was still prominent in her breath, but I couldn’t care less. It felt as if she was reciprocating my feelings for her, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Are you okay? Shall we continue? I’m still pretty hungry.” She questioned me, her words barely coming out of her mouth, whispering so as not to ruin our happy little moment. I nodded, and she rubbed her face into my fur, before letting me go and running forward.

A couple of hours and many deer later, we were on our way back to (Y/N)’s place. She invited me over to spend some time together. She lived about 1 mile away from the Cullens; she told me that she appreciated them as much as she appreciated her own privacy and space, and they understood her need to spend time on her own.

She waited a few minutes for me to change back to my human form, giving me the space and privacy I needed. Though I had no issue changing in front of her, I thought it would still be too early for that. After shifting back to human and getting dressed, I came out of the woods.

She waited for me in front of her house. Her house was pretty big, a mix of dark wood and glass, making it extravagant but also warm and welcoming. Her very expensive car that I noticed in the clearing we "trained" a few days ago was parked in her driveway, along with a white silver Cadillac Escalade Hybrid.

She saw my wide eyes and overall shocked expression and laughed. “That is..my “more casual” car, you know, to drive around.” I gulped and nodded, as she motioned me to come into her house.

Matching its exterior, the interior also exuded a mix of luxury and warmth. There was a big bronze chandelier in the foyer, but it was nothing compared to the ones further into the house. At first glance, there was a huge living room, decorated with brown fabrics and furniture of different hues, enhancing the warmth. The kitchen was pretty big, especially considering there lived a vampire who didn’t need to cook. The counters, the cabinets, and the drawers were made out of white marble, in complete contrast to the living room. A wide wooden staircase led to the upper floor. My jaw was probably on the floor by now.

“I really like buying expensive things and such.” (Y/N) grinned at me, watching me turn around the place and take everything in.

“You must be pretty hungry, huh?” She looked at me, serious now, and my stomach growled in response. She smiled widely. “I have quite a few pizzas in the freezer if you don’t mind. I usually wouldn’t buy anything, but I thought that someone, or even you, would come over, so I went out yesterday and bought a few things. Would you be okay with that?” She looked unsure, waiting for my response.

I didn’t realize I hadn't said anything for a few minutes, until (Y/N) came in front of me. “Embry?” My name came so pure out of her mouth. “Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?” Her voice sounded concerned, as she examined my face for any signs that would “betray” a lack of wellbeing or something.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. I just didn’t expect that you would go out of your way to make sure I ate if I ever came here.” I was indeed shocked, I didn’t lie.

“No, of course I would. I didn’t expect you to come over, but I just hoped you would.” She smiled, lowering her eyes to the floor.

I came closer to her and stroked her cheek lightly. She gasped slightly, but I felt her melt on my hand. My heart was beating so fast, pounding so loudly, full of love and nerves. I didn’t think about it twice before I leaned in and pecked her lips lightly.

I heard her gasping at my action, and I pulled away, worried that I scared her away. That wasn’t the case though, as she grabbed my neck carefully, afraid of her own strength, pulling me back to her and kissing me with more passion this time. The fireworks and stars I saw and the fire that was burning deep inside me were definitely not a part of any illusion. It was a reality - the reality we were currently living and experiencing together.

I captured her face between my hands and she swirled her hands around my shoulders and neck, keeping me close. She cooled down my nerves, and I set her body aflame. Even after we pulled away, we stayed close, foreheads touching, eyes closed, just feeling each other and relaxing under each other’s touch. (Y/N) was the first to speak.

“How about you go take a hot shower, and I’ll prepare the pizzas?”

She stroked my hair while looking me deep in the eyes and I just wished this moment would last forever. I was absolutely delighted and felt blessed to have met my imprint and mate for life. I couldn’t even remember what life was like before her, and I couldn’t even bear the thought that I would have never met if she wasn’t bitten and transformed into a vampire, over 100 years before me. I didn’t mean I was grateful for the vampire who bit her, or vampires in general, but I was grateful I had her.

“Okay.” The words barely came out of my mouth, before I kissed her once again.

“Let me help you.” She took my hand and guided me upstairs. She showed me the bathroom and brought me freshly-washed, fluffy towels, clear underwear, long jeans, a woolen t-shirt, socks, and slippers. I looked at her curiously.

“I bought a few things if you ever wanted to crash here.” She confessed, a kind of guilt on her face. I smiled widely and kissed her once again.

“Thank you, love.” She relaxed and smiled.

“Okay, now, go shower. Relax, have fun with the jet streams.” She winked before running downstairs. I chuckled at myself, and hopped in the shower, turning the jet streams on, and relaxing further into my thoughts.

----------------------------------------------------------

About half an hour later, I jumped off the shower, clean and relaxed. I quickly dried off and got dressed. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I would have never thought of being this happy in my life.

I didn’t have the best childhood. I never met my father; I never knew who my father even was, but I definitely knew he was a Quileute by now. My mom, however, was a Makah, an outsider of the Quileute tribe, so she didn’t know about the shape-shifters.

There were a lot of one-sided fights with her when I came home after a long night patrolling. She thought I was going through a rebellious stage, and I just let her believe that. Even Sam offered to tell her the truth about the Quileutes, but I refused. I couldn’t have her getting in trouble or hurt; it would be better if she didn’t know. I sighed deeply and slowly walked downstairs to meet with (Y/N).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Y/N)’s POV

I didn’t mean to watch Embry’s head, but I couldn’t help it. All these images suddenly started flooding my mind; his mother yelling at him for being out of the house at odd hours, but him never yelling back at her, never revealing the real reason for his absence. He was thinking about all the times he asked his mother about his father, but she refused to say anything more and dismissed Embry’s inquiries.

Embry’s head was heavy with these dark thoughts, tangled and disorganized, reminding me of my own. His thoughts were all over the place; small images and scenes here and there like little flashes of memories.

I heard him coming down the stairs and tried to forget about everything for his own sake. In a minute, he entered the kitchen. He looked so beautiful, even a plain pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. He was mesmerizing, his face calm, a small grin lighting up my world, and, if I hadn’t seen his thoughts, I would think that his head produced only happy thoughts.

Anyone who saw Embry, saw a quiet, reserved, but seemingly happy young man, not what I had just seen for myself. I decided not to talk about it; if he ever felt comfortable talking about it, he would, and I would wait for him, no pressure.

“Like what you see?” Embry grinned seductively. Cheeky bastard.

“I do, actually.” I leaned forward, over the counter standing in the middle of the kitchen, pressing my breasts against the surface. It only lasted for a few seconds, before I sat back straight, but it was enough for Embry to gulp down and his cheeks to turn red under his already tan skin, his eyes wide in shock. Two can play the game, babe.

“Well, come on, the pizzas are ready.” I acted as if nothing happened, and continued acting normal, taking the pizzas out of the oven before handing a plate to Embry from the nearby cabinet. He was standing close to me, watching my every move with a look of questioning.

“Are you okay? You seem as if something is bugging you.” I didn’t see a single image in his mind that could give me any clue as to why he looked concerned.

“I just have a question. It is a weird one, and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t feel comfortable. I suppose that’s personal, but I was just wondering.” I nodded at him to continue. “How did you come up with all this money? Like, I guess the Cullens are rich, Dr. Cullen is a doctor and they probably come from old wealth or something, but how did you afford to buy all these things?” He motioned around the house.

I sighed. “I actually waited for you to ask this question, eventually. First of all, I should let you know that most of Cullens’ money - if not 90-95% of it - comes from trading stock, bonds, foreign exchange, investments; Alice’s visions have helped A LOT. And, everything is legal. Nobody says that visions count as fraud; inside info does, but visions don’t. So..that’s their story. Mine is complicated. It is on the verge of being illegal but not really.”

“What do you mean “illegal”? What, like, you sell drugs or something?” He laughed but then, upon seeing my blank face he stopped. “YOU SELL DRUGS?” He plopped down on a chair.

“Yes, and no. I sell..candy, sugary sweets, gummy bears, anything really that is considered candy. But, I present them as “drugs” to people who I know are interested in buying drugs. I sell them the candy, which is regular candy, sugary and sweet, something a kid would eat. And then, I just stand nearby or a few kilometers away - it depends - and cause them to see illusions, so they actually think they are on drugs. The more they pay for a “drug”, the more intense illusions I create. Most of my regular clients are CEOs, CFOs, businessmen, investors, you name it. Usually, they will organize a party and “book” me in advance to provide them with “drugs”. I always make sure they pay half price in advance and half price when I arrive with the stuff so that I don’t get fooled.”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught? Isn’t it dangerous for these people?”

“Embry, I never, ever, present my true self to them. Again, I create an illusion of myself when I collaborate with them. And I am never the same person more than once; they actually think there is a whole network behind it. And, I always make sure they are safe and don’t take things too far. That’s why they “book” me. I’m like a designated babysitter for the “junkies”. I take all necessary precautions so that they have fun, don’t harass others, and don’t do things that will get them killed. It’s an extra paid service.”

“And that pays a lot, huh?”

“Everything you see around, and many more, have been purchased with this money. Though, I recently had Alice manage my money and invest them wherever she thinks it’d be profitable for me. You know, so I don’t risk getting caught, and actually start making money in a completely legal way. Though, I have to admit, I liked the small doses of danger, and the money was REALLY good.”

Embry looked skeptical. “Normally I would say that this still seemed illegal and it would be better for you to stop. But,..” He stood up from his chair and came closer to me. “...I also know that you must know what you’re doing by now, and you’re not doing anything that is more illegal than what your clients are doing. So, I think you should choose for yourself, see the pros and the cons, and see what would be better for you.” He wrapped his hands around me and held me against his hot chest.

“If I’m being honest, I have enough money by now to last me a lifetime - a human’s lifetime, maybe two or three. And..I think it is time to go legal. I think Alice’s idea was the right one. It will also give me a chance to be closer to her and the rest of the family - though I told her I didn’t want to take advantage of her gift, she assured me that I wouldn’t.” I sighed. There was a lot of pressure in my head, but Embry’s presence and touch actually managed to keep me calmer than usual.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“I guess it’s time to go deeper, so shoot away.”

“When you said it was easier to stay away from humans when feeding, did you ever actually kill people?”

“Well, I do have pretty good control over my thirst now. I still had to go through the newborn phase though, for a year or two. I killed many people, I couldn’t contain myself, until my gift started developing more, and I could see my ugly, scary side in their head. When I told you I can see what people are thinking..? I basically can see the images and illusions in someone's head - kind of like what Edward does, but he can actually read someone’s very thoughts at a specific moment. I can only see the images. So, I could see that I wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t realize it at first. But I didn't want to be like the vampire who attacked me. I didn’t want to be that kind of monster. I know I am a monster, but I didn’t want to live at the expense of other humans. My life being taken away from me did not excuse me from taking other lives.”

Embry was speechless. He only had to squeeze me harder for me to understand that he was trying to sympathize with me. It couldn’t be easier for him when he first phased, and every other moment from that point on couldn’t be any easier. I had to leave my family behind for their own good. He has to live with who he is; he has to keep the secret from his own mother to protect her while going through her critical and vigilant gaze. She was certainly concerned for her son, but knowing about the shifters would most likely put her in great danger, and Embry could not risk that.

We have long forgotten the pizzas, but I reminded myself that the wolf had to eat, so I forced myself out of his arms. Embry looked upset as if I rejected him. “You MUST eat. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

He nodded and grabbed a few slices, devouring them in under a minute, taking a few more on his plate. I looked amused at him; I never saw anyone eat so much so fast. Within ten minutes, he finished all five pizzas I had baked. He looked proud of himself, a wide smile spread across his face.

“You sure have an appetite!” I laughed at him.

“I could say the same about you.” He grinned back, reminding me of the fact that I did actually kill one mountain lion and about a dozen deer.

“Touché.” I laughed and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up in the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we just stayed there, foreheads against each other, eyes studying the other’s soul. He kissed me lightly and I could only feel happiness, my undead heart bursting with love, forgetting about everything and everyone.

Suddenly, my phone rang. We both sighed deeply. “Moment ruined.” I said disappointed, climbing out of Embry’s grip, and unwillingly picking up my phone. It was Alice.

“Alice? What happened?” I was worried. Alice did not just call without any reason.

“(Y/N). The newborns. They are coming earlier than we thought.” Alice was panicking by now.

“What do you mean “earlier”? How much earlier?”

“They may be arriving early in the morning, sometime after the sun has risen.”

“Are you sure? That’s like...” I checked the kitchen clock, it was already 11 pm by now. “...in less than 9 hours!”

“I’m positive. Edward and Bella just left. They will be camping in the mountains, where they had agreed. Jacob will probably be on his way there. The wolves will be getting ready by now. I called Sam. They will be staying away from the reservation tonight, just in case. Is Embry with you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Okay, good. It will be better if he stayed with you for tonight. The further he is from the reservation right now, the better. The wolves don’t want to risk the safety of their families right now. Only Brady and Collin will stay behind, to make sure everyone back in the reservation is safe.”

“I understand. Thanks for calling, Alice. I’ll see you in the morning. Bye.” I hung up the phone and I turned to look at a shocked Embry, his jaw clenching. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.” He sighed deeply. “We’ll manage, (Y/N). Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter if it’s 9, 10, 12, or 15 hours. We’ll be good.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I paused. “I hope so. Can..Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Can you communicate with the pack? You can use my phone. Tell them to come here. I have plenty of rooms for them to sleep in.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s kind of you, but, won’t the smell annoy you?”

“The smell will be fine. What matters now is that they are safe. They can’t stay in the woods. They need a good night’s sleep. Please, talk to them.”

“Okay.” Embry took my phone, dialing a number, and waiting for a reply. Finally, somebody picked up, and Embry was talking almost frantically to the other person. About 5 minutes later, he ended the call and gave me my phone back. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Good. I’ll go get things ready.” I pecked Embry’s lips and ran to turn the heater higher on and get pillows, bedsheets, covers, and blankets for the rooms. I also laid some hair, body, face, and feet towels, in case they wanted to have a bath or a shower.

Apart from my own, the house had four additional rooms that I used as guest rooms. When I bought the house, my thought was that the Cullens may be visiting someday and would like to stay over, so each pair could have their own room. Now, they will accommodate the wolf pack and I was just as happy as if it was family coming over. Well, technically, they were family - they were Embry’s family, so that would likely make me family too? I just hoped they saw me like family.

I finished getting everything ready, spraying some spray freshener around each room and through the corridors, to cover up my own scent. I said I wouldn’t mind their scent, which I wouldn’t, but I didn’t know how my own scent would make them feel, especially when it is spread all over the house. I just wanted them to sleep well, and rest; for tomorrow would be a tough day for all of us. I smelled and heard them quicker than I saw them, and I ran downstairs to stand next to Embry. He took my hand in his own, and we walked towards the door.

Opening the large entrance door, we were greeted by six tired and upset shifters - Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil, Leah, and Seth; though Quil and Seth were a bit happier to be there, compared to the others.

“Hey!” I greeted them, extending my hand to Sam, the Alpha of the pack. He looked at my hand, looked at Embry who nodded, and then, he shook my hand.

“Thank you for having us in your house. I hope we are not intruding.” He was careful with his words, his face serious and stern.

“Of course you are not! Please, do come in.” I motioned them to come further into the house, and they took small steps coming in. I smiled encouragingly. “I have prepared your rooms. Please, follow me.” I walked up the stairs, turning to the left corridor, them following behind.

“Unfortunately, some of you will have to share between you.” I informed them as we were walking through the corridor. “This room is for Sam. As the Alpha, he will be sleeping on his own.” Sam laughed at the others and thanked me. I continued to the next room.

“This room is for Jared and Paul.” Jared and Paul looked at each other and shrugged. “Don’t worry. All the beds are quite big, in case you have restless sleep, or just don’t want to be close to each other.” They barely hold their laughs. I had to admit, they were quite amusing.

“Next, this room is for Quil and Seth.” They turned to each other, and high-fived, smiling widely and howling.

I took them further into the corridor, to the biggest guestroom. “And, this last room is for Leah, to have some privacy away for the guys. I know what it feels like being the only girl surrounded by guys, and honestly, I couldn’t handle being surrounded by boys with extremely high hormones.” I turned to Leah, and I saw her smiling at me, mouthing a “Thank you”. I smiled back at her, I felt for her more than anyone.

“Also, as you may notice later, I have also laid some towels on your beds in case you wanted to have a shower, a bath, or use the jacuzzi.”

“THERE’S A JACUZZI?!” Jared, Quil, and Seth practically screamed. Sam turned to stare at them like how a disappointed parent would stare at his 5-year-olds who were causing trouble. Leah rolled her eyes, disappointed but also kind of expecting that. Paul and Embry couldn’t stop laughing. I tried to keep a straight face, stifling my laugh.

“Yeah, every room has a bathroom, equipped with a toilet, a sink, a shower, a bathtub, and a separate jacuzzi. You are also welcome to go anywhere around the house if you can’t really sleep, or if you feel like it. I don’t have anything prepared if you are hungry, but you may bake and eat anything from the freezer. If you need anything else, feel free to knock on my door or call me on my phone. It is written on the phone catalog, near the phone, on your bedside tables. And my room is across the hall, at the end of the corridor. I will leave you to it now. Have a good night's sleep.” I smiled, and they all said their goodnights, walking towards their rooms.

I took Embry’s hand in mine and led him to my own room. I opened the door, walking into the room. “You will be sleeping here tonight. Hope you don’t mind.” Embry was grinning, a wide smile spread across his face, radiating true happiness. He held me in his arms, squeezing me, his wide smile never leaving his face.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping on a cement floor if it meant that I slept with you in my arms.”

“I could say the same. If I could sleep at all.” I laughed and he joined me. “Shhh, the others will hear us. I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable or weirded out.”

“They won’t, believe me. I think that you are the first vampire to warm up to them. Pun intended.” He laughed.

I lightly shoved him back, afraid to put too much force on him. “It’s time to sleep, mister. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“Only if you lay in my arms while I sleep.” He lightly swayed me around, as if we were dancing, and walked me towards the bed. He lied down, me sitting on his lap, each of my legs on each side. It was a very intimate moment but I knew that he had to rest well.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that. You now need to rest. Please.” I stroked his head, my fingers running through his thick hair, which shined even under the dim light that came through the windows, from the full moon in the sky. He sighed and I climbed out of his lap and sat on the bed. He took my hand and kissed it, making my insides melt and my eyes slightly stink with venom.

“You promise you will stay with me forever?” He looked me deep in the eyes, a mix of worry and seriousness in his voice. I looked startled but confident in my answer.

“I promise. You are the most important person in my life now. I won’t leave you, ever. But you have to promise you will stay alive tomorrow. For me, for your mom, for the pack, for the tribe.” There was a pause. Nothing was certain for tomorrow; no one knew what would happen, but we could only hope.

“I promise. I won’t leave you like that.” He shot me a small smile and he leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips. I kissed him back, thinking that it may be our last kiss, but not wanting this thought to come true.

He slowly laid back on the bed, pulling me in his arms, and kissing me on my forehead. We laid there for a few minutes before his breaths started becoming more steady and heavy, indicating that he finally fell asleep. I looked at the beautiful man in front of me. I wished everything was different; that we met under different conditions; that we were free and careless.

“I promise you, when all this ends, I will take you anywhere, show you everything.” I whispered, kissing him on his cheek, him smiling in his sleep.

We talked for what felt like hours; Embry was telling me stories about the pack, their imprints, the shifting, and everything in between. I lifted a dome-like illusion around the house and the surrounding area, in case anyone came too close to us, and I closed my eyes, listening to Embry’s steady heartbeat, as he took deep breaths. This was the happiest I had ever been in my almost 153 years of life. I sank further into Embry’s arms and wished I could stay there forever.

----------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I opened my eyes. I was still in Embry’s arms, and thankfully, he was still asleep and really warm. He was breathing deeply and steadily, his lips slightly parted. I smiled at the sight; he looked so peaceful and pure, I couldn’t imagine him killing vampires. He seemed too good for me, for the world.

However, I couldn’t calm down, too nervous about what was going to happen today. I slipped away from Embry’s embrace, trying not to wake him up. I slowly stood up from the bed and looked at the clock on my bedside table. 3:45 am. Less than 4 hours away from the newborns’ arrival.

I grabbed my phone and ran quietly towards my bedroom door, opening it, and slipping away, trying to go undetected by the wolves who slept across the corridor. I ran down the stairs and out of the house. I fixed my brain on a decision I made on the spot, hoping both Alice and Edward would pick up on my actions.

I was worried we would not be able to realize the exact location of the newborns at all times, so I went out to make sure we had the upper hand in terms of time. That’s what I kept telling myself - the actual reason why I did this was actually more selfish. I wanted to know how many of them we’ll be dealing with; how many I would have to mess up with, mentally or physically. How many vampires I would have to fight off to keep Embry safe.

Alice saw the newborns coming out of the sea in her vision, so that was my lead. I assumed they would travel through the Quilcene Bay, which was right in the middle, between Seattle and our fighting location. The 70 miles that separated my house from the bay were nothing for me. I was mostly motivated by anger and protectiveness towards Embry - I had to know and warn the others.

I reached close to the bay and went up to a higher point, so I could watch everything around me better. I looked at my phone. 4:15 am. That was faster than I expected. I decided I would just sit here and wait. The clearing where the Cullens and the wolves chose for the fight to take place was about 35 miles away, which was still far away from Forks, and close enough to the mountains where Bella, Edward, and Jacob would be staying for the night.

My phone rang unexpectedly. I saw the caller ID. Alice.

“Hey, Alice. What’s going on?” I answered casually.

“(Y/N)! Where are you? Why did you leave your home?”

“Hey! Don’t worry. The wolves are safe.”

“You know I’m not worried about the wolves! Why are you after the newborns?”

“I just want to make sure we have the numbers. I need to make sure, Alice.”

Alice didn’t say anything for a while. “Okay. Just be careful, okay?”

“Okay. I will call you later. Just make sure the wolves are ready. I will break down the illusion when you are near. I’ll probably meet you at the clearing.”

“Okay. Bye, (Y/N).”

“Bye, Alice.” I ended the call and just waited, and waited.

It was almost 5 am, when I saw movement in the water. I leaned closer, trying to be careful to stay out of their way while watching them closely. I knew I would probably be the only one they wouldn’t be able to see, “blinding” their vision if they came close to me.

From Alice’s vision, I remembered about 15 or 20 newborns, but I guessed the number changed during this time. I was now staring at about 30 or 40 newborns, way more than what we expected. It was as if whoever created - I assumed the redhead everyone was talking about - did not just want to take down the Cullens, but the whole town of Forks.

They were walking rather than running, which I thought was odd for newborns, as most of us tend to run all the time at that stage of life. With this speed, they would probably arrive at the clearing in 2 and a half to 3 hours, just like Alice predicted. Hopefully, they would not come across any humans who would, inevitably, become their meal.

I ran away, towards the mountains and the clearing. I would warn the others when I went there, knowing they would have enough time to get prepared.

299 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Sweet like Honey (Break like Glass) (KTH)

Summary: Taehyung knows there’s something wrong with his girlfriend; the way she can��t look at herself in the mirror sometimes or the countless other bad days. He makes it his mission to make her feel as beautiful as possible.

Tags: mentions of body dysmorphia, Self-esteem issues, Dysphoria, internalized self-hate, picnic dates, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, barely referenced eating disorder, angst over Taehyung being an idol, mentions of weddings, proposals, and wedding dresses, mentions of nudity and sexual scenes/themes.

A/n: This was mostly inspired by Taehyung in his green suit and my own experiences with my body. This is a relatively short and less descriptive than my usual au’s. don’t forget to comment and RB if you liked it! also my grammarly kinda crashed while writing this! so i apologize for more grammatical errors that usual.

Song rec: Electric love~ Pravi cover

W/c: 6.7k

- There is something wrong with Taehyung's girlfriend. With you- and Taehyung just can’t figure out what it is.

- Taehyung and you have been dating for a few years, though it was a little on and off in the beginning because of a few world tours. Now you live together, and every day Taehyung lives the fantasy of coming home to someone who loves him. You standing in his kitchen with Yeontan running around your feet begging for little bits of food.

- But The small things are always there; the way you look at yourself in the mirror with a hint of hate. The way you are always so particular about how clothing fits you and won't wear anything that properly shows off your curves.

- Sometimes you barely react when Taehyung puts his arms around your waist, bunching up his extra-large shirt that you sleep in. Taehyung loves the feeling of getting his hands on you, his palms so wide on your form. You have The kind of soft cuteness that makes him want to take you and hold you close and never let go. Sometimes in the mornings- he actually does pull you back into bed with him.

- But Sometimes, when Taehyung puts his hands on your waist you do freeze, he feels the way your body is taut and stiff like you’re trying to suck in or something. But when he looks at your face- he doesn't see any of the strain or anything else unpleasant or unhappy in your smiling face.

- Taehyung wishes you felt as comfortable with him as he feels with you.

- Tae would say that you’re both completely happy. Would say it- if he didn’t notice your insecurity sometimes. More than once He sees you excitedly set out an outfit on the bed. Getting dressed for something a little more interesting than sitting on your couch, only to see your expression fall the second that you see yourself in the mirror.

- Whatever's going on in your head- it hurts you, hurts that you don’t see yourself in the mirror the way that he does. other days you know before you get dressed, You’ll avoid looking at yourself in the mirror and instead ask him if you look okay.

- “Just turn around and see for yourself” he says- unthinking. More worried about getting to your destination on time. This time it’s a dinner with the rest of bts, a private room in a restaurant to celebrate the end of their last comeback. You aren’t going to be the only s/o or guest in attendance and you just wanted to make a good impression.

- Taehyung is more excited for a few days of break that will proceed the dinner than the dinner itself. Days that he will probably spend catching up on the sleep that he’s lost over the past few weeks and spending quality time with you. He realizes a moment too late when he looks back at you. A hand suspiciously rubbing at your cheek, a little damp. That dark- unhappy look fitting your face like a glove.

- You put a very baggy jacket over your dress and call it a day. During dinner you bunch it up in your lap like it will help cover you and say that your legs are just cold when Taehyung asks. But he isn’t fooled- though he was, a little, at the beginning of your relationship.

- When Taehyung first meets you he barely thinks that there’s something off about the way you view yourself. That revelation comes later once he gets to know you better. Taehyung dreams of a time when he’d known from the beginning, if only so that he could have started helping you with your body image sooner.

- When you and Taehyung first met you were both a little broken, both a little too lonely for words. Your type of loneliness that was left for rotten nights, the kind where you bunch up a blanket or a pillow just to have something to hold onto.

- When Taehyung first bumps into you at a bookstore You don’t outwardly look like the insecure type. Your cute glasses on your nose and your ankle length knit dress chic and oversized. You’d sat on opposites sides of a very long velvet couch to enjoy a coffee and a book in Taehyung’s favorite bookstore. A hair too close at your separate tables to be completely accidental.

- You look at the handsome stranger, (or at least you think he’s handsome- most of him is covered by a facemask) thinking that just maybe There was only one reason why he didn’t take the table by the window; that reason being a desire to be close to you. “Is that one any good?” you’d asked, voice rough and quiet in the empty cafe.

- When Tae looks over it’s to see your legs have been pulled up and underneath you- your shoes off and hidden under the table. Your stocking legs bare for him to look at and drink in. It feels too intimate for a stranger, but all at once in a moment, Taehyung daydreams of what your legs might feel like in his hands. And a little stirring in his gut says ‘oh- you like this- you like this one.”

- “The coffee or the book?” he asks, perplexed and trying not to lose his cool. all the stadiums in the world couldn’t unnerve him and yet- one pretty girl in a coffee shop has him worried, holding on to his coffee and book like it will anchor him. You smile like his response is some sort of secret. “Either is fine.”

- Running into each other at the bookstore turned into sitting close on one of the many velvet couches. Which turned into Tae inviting you to a different coffee shop with better coffee and fewer books so you could openly talk without fear of getting scolded.

- This leads to dinner dates and kisses and your back against his sheets in his apartments. Looking up at him like he’s still trying to tell you some sort of secret. You’re a secret that Taehyung just can’t figure out but wants too. And Tae has a feeling he could spend years getting to know you and still want you just as much as he did then- as he does now. Hovering on the edge of a relationship with you.

- What had started out as coffee dates, turned into hooking up and then when his life got busy again- late night booty calls where he was barely awake enough to properly reciprocate. Those nights ending when you woke up to his empty bed and a text on your phone thanking you for coming over so late. It’s kind, but it’s so formal you read between the lines. Assuming deep down- that Taehyung doesn't want any more than a late night booty call and an occasional friendship from you.

- Taehyung had just assumed you wouldn’t want a relationship with him if it had to be this way, every six months or so when he gets so busy he can barely find time to take a proper break let alone go on a date. You’d assumed he just didn’t want a relationship with you but you where already desperately in love with him and unwilling to let go of the little bit you had of his time. Even if you knew it was a little toxic.

- He still remembers looks back on that night often. Just after the comeback- he’d been strung out on that restless energy he often gets after they’ve finished. another cycle of their career. All keyed up with nowhere for his energy to go. It had been late into the night and nearly morning when you’d finished enjoying each others company. Taehyung leaning back against the pillows, so deeply stated that he felt the ache in his bones. Eyes already fluttering closed he’d reached out to touch you, only to find you not there already pulling up your pants by the door.

- And Tae’s serotonin and oxytocin high brain hadn’t been able to look past much more than your jiggling ass for a moment before he realized that fuck- you’re not staying. “What are you doing?” he’d asked, a little scathed, and you turned around like you were trying not to get your hopes up.

- “Going home to sleep? like i usually do?” Taehyung feels the stinging in his chest like a wound. Dreams of sleeping with his arm thrown over your waist, holding you close and trying to fit you into the lonely space in his chest- extinguished in a violent moment. (Tae had a feeling you’d fit there perfectly- and now to have you snatched out of reach feels like disappointment) “aren’t you just going to sleep here?”

-“Nah im kinda hungry” you lie. He shrugs not getting it “I could always make you breakfast in the morning,” his words are interrupted by a yawn, “or now?”

- “You don’t need too” “but what if I want to” all at once you’re frustrated. “Tae- what are we doing here?” you throw your jacked down with an upset humf, “we both know you’re not going to date a girl like me so why- why are you making this harder than you need too-”

- “hold on-hold on” he jumps out of bed, suddenly so awake that his heart is pounding. “who the fuck told you that i don’t want to date you?” Your hand hovers on the doorknob an inch away from your relationship being nothing, and Taehyung is brazen and unshy, nearly proving your point when he just gets out of bed all of himself on display. At least he has the good grace to pull on a pair of boxer shorts. “you mean? you do?”

- “Of course i want to date you!” he’s an inch away, and his large hands just barely brushes yours “you like all the same things as me, i love talking about books with you and cuddling with you and having you here when i get home- things have just been so busy lately- i didn’t want to make it feel rushed. but i do- i do want you to be mine unless you don’t want-”

- You’d hated how unsure he looked in that moment. Most of the time- you’re so unsure yourself that you forget how it must look to Taehyung. But in that moment you can see your own expression on his face, and you hate it there just as much as he hates it when it’s on your face.

- That night had ended with you soft in Taehyung's clothing, smelling like him. talking it through with him until the sun actually had come up. “I guess I just got so caught up in giving you what you wanted because I thought that was all I could get.”

- He touches you so delicately, his fingers stroking down the line of your throat as you talk so that he can feel the words in his fingertips as you say them. “tell me how I can be better- please, I want to be a good-” taehyung swallows against the hope in his throat. “I want to be a good boyfriend for you.”

- Your more giving nature didn’t stop there, and you were always determined to give taehyung more than you took in your relationship. Like your very presence in his life was enough of a gift in itself. But it’s something that Taehyung has always been able to see through. In the same way that you feel like you’re not enough for him. The same way he feels that he can’t give you everything you want or need. Like a date out in public or Anonymity if you were ever to take your relationship public.

- You’ve been mobbed more than once just because you came out of the same apartment complex he lived in. And even though no one knows you’re dating Tae besides those who know you personally, Taehyung fears that one day you’re going to want something he can’t give you.

- Like others he’d dated in the past. The girls (and one boy) who had all told him after a few months “either go public or we’re through” or gotten tired of not being able to partake in the same things all their friends did, like getting walked home or going out for dinner on a Thursday without making an expensive reservation. You were never like that.

- At the beginning, you’d just smiled when Tae had told you he couldn’t be seen with you out in public. You’d just given him a soft but understanding smile and volunteered your apartment as long as he brought his most comfortable pajamas to stay the night incase he got too drunk to drive home.

- Those nights, you’d often ended up drunk on the floor of your bedroom and Taehyung remembers looking down at you from above, his hand unintentionally wound in your hair. Somehow you’d ended up in his pajamas and he didn’t mind at all.

- “You know- I can’t give you a lot” it had taken Tae a long time to open up to you after his last break up, but then he’d felt the dizzying smoothness of your skin against his- more intoxicating that the alcohol. You’d giggled up at him, equally as drunk. “Just give me you, Tae, and that will be enough.”

- it was around then that Taehyung had made a promise to himself. He may not be able to give you everything a boyfriend should be able to give you. but he’d give you himself fully, and anything else he could give without endangering his career.

- Sometimes you can’t believe that you’re dating an idol- let alone someone as genuinely beautiful as Taehyung. Sure- knows one knows you’re dating him. But only someone who didn’t know your relationship would think he was just a status symbol or something. You don’t need to show each other off to know your love is real.

- Though you do partake in couple items fairly often- Taehyung has a certain love for things expensive. And he does like to spoil you in the small ways- accessories are the best for you- Taehyung knows they don’t trigger your body dysmorphia in the same way clothes do. He still has the first couple item you ever got- a beat-up scarf in coordinating colors, the edge of yours torn- hanging over the doorway that leads to your walk in closet. The fabric too worn to wear out normally.

- Early on- he’d fucked up and gotten you a skirt that was a size to small. He’d tried to help you into it, and helped you try and zip it up. But after a moment when it was clear the zipper wasn’t going to go over your hips (one of Taehyung’s favorite parts of you and the whole reason why he’d bought you the skirt)

- You’d slapped his hand away, and Taehyung had looked up- miffed for a moment but knowing he’d fucked up when he saw your eyes fill with tears. He’d apologized again and again, And you were careful to make sure he knew it wasn’t his fault but the skirt had ended up thrown to the back of the closet and shoved in a bag meant for donations.

- Now Taehyung knows Some days your body genuinely doesn’t bother you, but others you live a much more dire reality that you try to hide from Tae. he also knows that you don’t like talking about it. He might enjoy telling you the minute details of just exactly why Namjoon pissed him off today during practice and hashing it out again later when his temper has dissipated. But you don’t like to talk about your insecurities in so many words.

- Sometimes the words hover on the edge of his tongue because he should tell you that It genuinely doesn’t bother him when you flip flop between needing to spend hours of your time on your makeup and being okay with your face as it is. And if hours are what you need to feel okay then fuck- Taehyung will learn everything about how you like to do your hair.

- The other days when you change 5 times before it becomes clear that it’s not the clothes That's making you feel so distressed. your side of the closet torn apart. When you can’t meet Tae’s eyes when it feels like nothing fits you anymore. More than once you’ve decided that you don’t really want to leave the apartment if the only thing you feel comfortable in is a pair of his sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. Tae only wants to make sure you get what you need. You don’t need to hide your bad days from Tae.

- but Taehyung hates those unhappy days when there's not more that he can do than let you hide your body underneath the baggiest blanket possible on your couch. Calling to cancel your plans, and then join you there. You tell him he should go hang out with your friends without you but if you don’t go with him- there’s really no point.

- He knows it's just a little unhealthy- but he’d miss you the whole time and want to text you through all of it. And your friends would end up annoyed that Tae was on his cellphone. Better to spend the night here, even if you flinch when he touches you later that night.

- And really- he doesn’t mind at all, all of that stuff, it only makes him worried about you. The person he loves more than anything. And he tries to help you through the little things. Complimenting you whenever he can (and do it while being genuine so they don’t feel hollow to you) and feeding you from his own chopsticks at dinnertime. Gently gripping your chin in his hand and murmuring “it’s my job to keep you healthy.”

- for what it’s worth when Taehyung does have more free time than usual- he keeps track. More than once he’s had to worry and wonder if you’re actually eating anything when he’s not around. He looks for the evidence of a lie on your face and in the kitchen to see if it takes the form of untouched or spoiled food. gone before you could convince yourself to eat it.

- And even though he can’t find any evidence of this- the threat still lingers on the edge of his mind. He’s had his experience with unhealthy behaviors and he knows the starting signs.

- But it comes to a head one night when he sees you looking through a bunch of catalogs. You might struggle to find things that you feel comfortable in on your worst days but you do like to help Taehyung shop. It’s a game that you play. Competing to see which one of you can find the weirdest outfit or the strangest prints. Though you win more often then he does. Leaning over your computer to laugh and say “okay- but actually, it’s terrible and I want it and I don’t know why.”

- For as hard as your relationship can be- there are also countless moments of happiness, more than taehyung could ever properly appreciate. but god if he’s not going to try to treasure this love he has with you. The kind of love that's sweet like honey regardless of the broken glass mixed in.

- It’s one of your lazy day activities. Both of you sit on the couch under a fluffy duvet with matching glasses of wine. A drama playing in the back round. His hand alternating between hovering on your knee and reaching for his wine glass.

- Tae gets wrapped up in looking at a strange line of weird art neveauy Dress shirts and when he looks over he sees to his surprise- that you’re looking at dresses. These dresses are the long kind- the kinds that are white and flowy with beaded sleeves or shear mermaid designs, most in blush and cream tones.

- You notice him looking and quickly tilt your screen- but it’s too late he’s already asking to see. You’re shy but eventually, tae wrestles it away from you with a kiss and a chuckle- you complain that he almost made you spill wine on the couch. His eyes widen more as he clicks through your tabs of which there are eight. And he commits the name of the designer to memory Because these...these are almost like wedding dresses and you’ve never expressed much interest in Dresses like these.

- As if the drama you’re watching seems to fortel this conversation; this episode is the wedding episode. taehyung watches you as he checks through the tabs and you watch the bride and groom with a far away look in your eyes. As the characters go through the antics of losing their rings and the evil stepmother spilling wine onto the bride's white dress.

- When you do speak, it’s so soft that Taehyung has to lean in to hear it. your secret whispered into open air. “Sometimes it’s easy to think- that I’ll never get married. Get to wear a dress like that. It’s not that I don’t think you love me,” you’re quick to reassure him. his stricken expression melting away as his words die in his throat. “-or that you wouldn’t- won’t ever propose. And this isn’t me trying to guilt trip you into it either but-”

-Taehyung rubs a reassuring stroke down your arm. Your eyes locked on the dress on the screen, eyes so hungry and wanting but sad too like you know it’s futile to want something so simple. It’s so ordinary to taehyung but to you it feels unreachable. “Dresses like that- princess dresses and wedding dresses- are things that other girls get. Girls that have the perfect body and the perfect hair- the perfect everything. Things that I don’t see when i look in the mirror.”

- Taehyung is soft when he touches you, guiding you to set your wine and your computer away, closing the screen too so that the picture of the dress goes away too. Leading you to sit across his lap. Touching your face gently like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced his fingertips.

- “That’s what they get and i-” you rest a hand on your chest and for a moment- Taehyung can see how much it just aches. Whatever hole has been left in your heart by your trauma, Tae feels it as keenly as you do. “I get to feel like this all the time.”

- Feelings of powerlessness fill him up. He wishes he could make you feel as beautiful as he views you- but he knows that the words of another only do so much. But he can’t say nothing He feels so tongue tied. he’s so painfully aware that he might say something that just makes you feel worse. he swallows through the lump in his throat. “I know this won’t make it any better, but I think you’re beautiful, and you deserve the world- and all the pretty dresses you want.”

- He bites his lower lip, mindful of not making promises he Doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep. He’d propose to you right now if he thought it would magically make you feel better but he doubts that would fix the issue. Your self-esteem issues run deeper than that. through wounds that are older than your relationship and too deep for Taehyung to heal with a few words. He touches your face softly “let me try- to make you feel as beautiful as you are to me” his kisses get hotter and you return them “let me try” he promises.

- That night you make love on your couch and for that moment of ecstasy you let yourself believe you’re worth the touch of Kim Taehyung. That alone is something that’s hard for you to believe every day. And you try to compensate for the ways that you feel lacking sometimes in the worst ways. he still doesn't like to think of the beginning of your relationship for that reason.

- but Something about that day with the wedding dresses weighs on him though, bothers him in a way he just can’t articulate. And it’s not until he confesses to Jungkook about what happened and how he feels strangely futile about the whole thing, that Jungkook gives him the simplest answer.

- “If she wants to feel beautiful in a wedding dress hyung, why don’t you just buy her the dress?” Taehyung starts to try and backtrack but Jungkook shakes his head. “I didn’t say marry her- just dress her up like you are and take her out on a date- make sure she knows beforehand. But there’s no reason why you can’t make her feel like a princess.”

- So Taehyung does just that- picks out a dress not unlike one of the ones that you mentioned you liked. Layers of lace and delicate tulle, perfect for you. Yes it’s from a wedding line but it is more of a light dust pink. A dainty and dreamy color perfect for the day that he aims to create. He double and triple checks your measurements because the dress is made to fit and he doesn’t want to repeat the skirt experience.

- Your actual date is a picnic set out on a thick knit blanket on a hill overlooking the ocean. He gets the picnic basket made for you by a restaurant. Delicate pastries filled with sweet meats, freshly cut figs and sweet berries and fruits. More than you could logically both eat in a sitting but sue him- Taehyung likes going a little overboard. All paired with your favorite bottle of wine. Wildflowers and delicate blooms too- all set out on the blanket.

- He Gets you booked for a private appointment at a hair stylist and makeup artists and surprises you. Tells you to keep your Saturday open for him, you level him with a look over dinner. “What are you planning kim Taehyung?” he smiles into his glass. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see princess?” you raise your eyebrow at the unintended and unusual term of endearment and let it slide as he pales at the unintended slip up.

- At first you’re a little skeptical- this isn’t the first surprise date he’s planned (and it probably won’t be the last). So you humor him with a small smile when he sits you down in the stylist’s chair late Saturday. You face away from the mirror, the stylists under orders to keep your look hidden from you until they’re done.

- before you start, He puts his hand on the back of your chair and leans in to press a quick kiss to your forehead “are you okay here while I go and get things ready?” the stylists buzz around you spoiling you with mimosas and fruit too, making sure you’re comfortable before they start. Tae really did bring out all the stops for this.

- You are okay with this, or at least you think you are until you finish with your hair and makeup- you can feel it, the layer of the expensive products on your skin and the faint burning in your hair as they set your hair in delicate fairy like curls, small pins with little flowers that you see out of the corner of your eyes, you see the swatch of red on the lip brush when they paint your mouth- and it starts to feel like too much when they lead you to a changing room- and you see the dress hanging on the hook.

- “She won’t come out Mr. Kim.” one of the assistants informs him when Taehyung comes back to get you. Everything is set up, the weather is perfect, the flowers in the field blooming when Taehyung stopped by to make sure that everything was all set out. Jungkook is in place too- ready to be your private photographer.

- That’s the little surprise- since Taehyung hopes you won't see him if he manages to hide well in the bushes and snap photos while you have lunch and lounge in the grass. Jungkook promised to leave if it looks like things where about to get steamy. And thinking about the dress- Taehyung can't say that’s not a possibility.

- There is something incredibly alluring about the idea, hiking up your delicate skirt. The way it might just look if Taehyung had you pull the thin straps down. Getting you out of it just enough to slip close to your warmth. you could even rollplay it- Taehyung some night who had no business touching someone as beautiful and you; a princess so sweet and ethereal hidden in some forgotten stretch of palace garden. Like something out of the stories you used to both read when you were just inches away in a coffee shop.

- But right now all he wants to do is make sure you’re okay as he barely calls your name before he rushes through the satin curtain in to see you. Sitting on the velvet poof in nothing more than a silk robe, leaning your head on your hand as you look at the dress with more than a little apprehension.

- He’s polished himself up since he saw you- his dark green suit the perfect color swatch against the dusty pink of the dress. you turn to see him and tae- oh Tae is in love with the way that they’ve outlined your lips like two petals of a perfect rose. The faint sparkle that dusts your cheeks. Taehyung’s whole body thrums as he looks at you.

- “Taehyung” even the way you say his name is a question, “why did you get me all dressed up like this?”

- Taehyung lets out a deep shaking breath, taking your hands in his, “im not proposing to you today,” is the first thing he says, and he can tell the words shock you a little- that can’t have been a thought far from your mind. But he presses on before he can get too nervous to continue.

- “But the other day- when you talked about never getting to feel pretty- like a princess. I wanted to give you that. Even if we never get married- or at least can’t for a while- you deserve to feel as beautiful as a bride on her wedding day every day and I guess-“ he stumbles forward over the edge of a carpet and you catch him a little. His large fingers tumbling through your small ones. tangling and untangling. “I guess I just wanted to be your groom for a day too.”

- “So you thought you’d take me out on a date and get me all dolled up for what?” Taehyung can tell you got the idea of what he’s going for now, a small smile tugging at your lips and Taehyung feels like he’s won a prize. He nudges your shoulder with his; leaning close like it’s a secret, “I even have a picnic basket.”

- You giggle at his wink and Tae directs you to the dress. But you kick him out. The stylists give him a look, shuffling around with their things and cleaning up. But he holds up his hands. “Apparently I’m not supposed to see her until the grad reveal” they nod- like this is some sort of unspoken rule but sue him- Taehyung wants to see you look pretty in the dress he picked out.

- Taehyung thinks he’s prepared to see you in the not-wedding- wedding dress- but he’s not. You knock the breath out of him. The shade of your lipstick the same tone as your dress just more saturated. It fists you better than Taehyung dreamed it would. And truly- you look like a princess at a ball- or at the very least a fairy.

- Taehyung holds out his hand, The picture of a gentleman. You still look unsure, but you take his hand anyway. You stop when you see yourself in the mirror. Unable to believe that really you look this different in makeup, but the makeup artists really are talented. You look ethereal. The blush on your cheeks just enough to feel like a natural flush. Your lashes long and pillowy and thick, your lips bitten looking and buttery red pink.

- You walk up to the glass and touch the surface, certain for a moment that this really is a fairytale and you have fallen down the rabbit hole like Alice. You don’t say anything, and neither does Tae- he just takes your hand and spins you under his arm, your dress flares out around you- swishing with the heavy weight of many layers of fabric and tulle. And you let yourself fall into his arms like some damsel and tae your knight in his swept back golden hair.

- “I’m going to buy you every dress like this in the world if it makes you smile like this my love” normally he wouldn’t refer to you as my love- but today- when everything is a fairytale- it almost feels fitting. You are smiling, and you give yourself another long look in the mirror before you turn on him. Dimly aware that some of the makeup artists are swooning at the picture you paint.

- for once, you have to admit- you look well matched.

- “I was promised a date Kim Taehyung” you say, a smile toying at the edge of your lips. Taehyung holds out his hand, bowing at the waist. “It would be my honor of having you accompany me Ms. Y/l/n.”

- “That’s ‘your highness’ to you” and both of you can’t help but let out a giggle at the ridiculous farce. Your ‘chariot’ is nothing more than Taehyung’s car. The one you’re used to taking. And the drive isn’t all that far away. an hour at most.

- Far below- the ocean turns the sea spray and distant rumbling the only clue to the shore below you. You almost want to swoon at the picture that Taehyung had set up, flowers laid out on the white blanket, food and other things, a Bluetooth speaker set up playing soft music. Taehyung makes sure to lay out the food. And feed you mouthfuls of sweet figs that taste sweeter when he licks the juice off of your tongue.

- After lunch Taehyung takes a few polaroid’s of you. Because even if Jungkook is doing what he promised, Taehyung still wants ones that are taken from his hands. He gets a few of you, stretched out against the white blanket, your arched enticingly without your shoes on, discarded in the grass. It could be a boudoir photo-shoot with the way it makes Taehyung’s mouth go dry, if not for the way the lace clings to your body. Covering the bits Tae wants to see. His hands hot and heavy on your calf, and sliding up.

- He thinks of actually doing a boudoir photo-shoot with you, considers the likelihood of you agreeing to it. he imagines your body bare against heavenly silks, hips hiked up to show off the curve of your ass. one day- Taehyung will convince you to model for him that way. Even if he suffers through the whole thing feeling as strung out as he does now.

- After lunch you take the stairs down to the water's edge and take your shoes off. Running in the sea spray, Taehyung gets a few more photos of you like that. Laughing at a joke he’s said, holding your dress up and out of the water. Collecting little shells that you shove into the pocket of his suit.

- All in all- by the time you get back up the rocky staircase and back to clean things up- your lipstick is kissed off your mouth, you have sand in the bottom of your shoes, and you smell more like sea spray than expensive perfume. But you feel pretty and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. And you’re certain that it’s all because of Tae. Taehyung’s used up all of the rolls of film that he brought- and he’s sure jungkook has too. between the two of them they’ve probably taken over 300 photos of you.

- “Did I do a good job today?” Taehyung asks on the drive home, always a good sucker for some good old words of affirmation. Stopping for fast food because- what his princess wants- his princess gets. “The best” you say. Head tipped back against the seat, already looking sleepy, Taehyung’s suit jacket pulled across your shoulders. “You really are my prince charming Tae.

- And he is- even if the dragon that needs slaying in one firmly locked inside of your head. Taehyung will help you defeat it, even if it takes 100 days and 100 different dresses.

- Taehyung ends up buying you more dresses. Every color. And your new game becomes finding more of them. taehyung collects pointlessly pretty things to make you feel more beautiful, and he loves every moment of it.

- When the photos come back from Jungkook (a secret they had actually managed to keep) your eyes go wide as you take in the photos, so much clearer than the ones that tae had taken on his polaroid camera. You paint a gorgeous picture together, him in his green that matches the grass and you- as delicate as the flowers around you.

- But your favorite thing about the photos- isn’t how you look (though you have to admit for once- that you did look beautiful) it’s the way Taehyung is looking at you. He’s looking at you like he’s aching, like It hurts to be parted from you even an inch.

- There is one series of three photos that you like the most. Where you’ve closed your eyes and are leaning back in the sun and his hair is shining, one moment he’s not holding your hand and he’s frowning, looking so jaggedly honest and thoughtful, and then next your hand is in his and he’s smiling brighter than the sun.

- You hang the photos in your living room. And next to the other photos you have, you don’t look nearly as happy as you do in those. It’s your smile that's different. When you look at the polaroids that tae’s taken of you. You’re smiling at him behind the camera, and you think even if it weren’t for the makeup and the dress- you still think you’d look beautiful in the photos.

- happiness- the kind that comes unburdened by insecurity- looks good on you, and if you can get that by love- by being in love and being loved with your pain instead of despite it, then it’s all the more beautiful.

- you go on more ‘pretty dates’ as you like to call them. and Taehyung watches you change slowly- but it’s for the better. As you don’t shy away from your reflection, wear longer dresses and prettier things without thinking. Wear that shade of lipstick again, and even go out wearing nothing at all on your face and seem not to feel anything. Taehyung knows it’s a struggle some days still- and yet you make it look so effortless.

- it's the worst when tae comes home and he finds whatever outfit you picked out for yourself already hung back up- and he’ll whine and beg you to put it on again until you eventually concede. Capturing them in black and white, in technicolor, in isolated swatches of red and blue. he loves taking pictures- especially if theyre of you.

- The picture wall gets added to in the future, until there is no more space in your living room. You call taehyung an obsessive flirt when he insists on hanging them up and he calls you his muse. You go on more not wedding wedding dates. And it’s no surprise to either of you when one-day someone- a fan spots and you soon pictures of you are plastered all over the internet- stories about a secret wedding between taehyung and a mystery girl.

- And in the end- it doesn't feel like you give up much with the unintended outing of your relationship. Taehyung couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to and he doesn't. now he gets to hold your hand and go out in public. “No- we’re not married yet. But we have been dating for a while so please respect our privacy.” He tells the reporters when he gets ambushed. And after a few stressful months where you lean into each other more than ever, things calm down.

- You have to be a little more secretive after that, careful when and where you plan your ‘pretty dates’ or so Taehyung has liked to call them. A sudden rush of seaside weddings this season makes that difficult and is entirely due to you and your pictures. it seems that you have become an unintended trend setter. the dress you wore selling out too.

- The hits of his love are always there, in every photograph, in every dress that appears in your closet, in ever tender moments. other hits are there too- hints of more love to come. when Taehyung asks you out for another pretty date, careful to make sure you get your hair done and your nails too. His nervousness written all over his face and his actions.

- And when you find a ring box, hidden in the pocket of one of Taehyung’s sweatpants the morning you’re supposed to go on your date, You’re not surprised in the slightest.

- You keep your discovery a secret. After all you only have a few hours to wait.

-------

Please Reblog and Comment, Likes are nice, but they do little to support content creators!

Kofi

1K notes · View notes

wwilloww · 4 years

Text

masterlist

s [smut] f [fluff] a [angst] c [crack]

find my work on AO3 || posting schedule || updated 7.5.2022 ||

If you find something that you like, please consider leaving a comment or dropping into my ask box to tell me what you think! I write for you guys, and it’s your feedback that keeps me going. I hope you enjoy!

★ BTS AS RELATIONSHIP SEX & BTS REACTS TO YOU UNLOADING THE DISHWASHER ★ SCENES OF MISGUIDED MAGIC ★ SH. SERIES

SUGAR - s, f - sugardaddy!Jin x artist!Reader. When you fall into art critic Kim Seokjin’s good graces by chance, his good favor means more recognition for your hard work and more attention from unexpected sources.

THE BODYGUARD - s, f - He’s supposed to keep you safe from the world. But you’re used to getting what you want, and you want him.

GOD OF MISCHIEF - s - fantasy. You've dedicated your life to the temple of the golden sun god. But when your world crumbles, your ticket to escape is not what you imagined it'd be, especially when it comes as a handsome, mischievous figure waltzing through the flames.

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT - s, f, a - friends to lovers. Yoongi shows you how to ask for what you want.

BACKSTAGE - s - idolverse. With the sounds of the stadium still ringing in his ears, Yoongi just needs to get away — just for a moment. And you have exactly the right idea about how to distract him.

RESTLESS SLEEP - s, f - established relationship. kink exploration. When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld, especially when you’re clear with Yoongi exactly what it is you’ve been fantasizing about.

THE SEVENTH MUSE - s, f - friends to lovers. library au. As a writer, your favorite place in the world is the library. But you’re quickly coming to realize that it might not be the books that keep drawing you back, but the handsome, smart librarian who always knows exactly what you need.

myg drabbles: | can i |

JUST BETWEEN US - s - daddydom!Hoseok. What’s Hoseok to do when you wake him up unintentionally?

THE ART OF WAR - s - enemies to lovers. arranged marriage. historical fantasy. You’ve just been married to a man you despise. On your wedding night, locked alone in a room with him, tensions are rising. And so is the past.

UNWIND - s, f - softdom!Namjoon. Sometimes the best form of self-care is simply accepting affection from someone else.

YOU’VE GOT A FRIEND IN ME - s - Your best friend and roommate proposes an interesting idea to decrease both of your stress levels.

SUNDAY MORNING - s, f - There’s so much to get done, and yet Namjoon can come up with at least three reasons why you should stay in bed just a little bit longer.

knj drabbles: | no thoughts, head empty | date night | found myself |

ATHAIR LUSA ft. Taehyung- a - fae!au. While on his way to draw water from the well, Jimin slips on a rock. When he stands up again, the world around him seems unrecognizable, as if everything has been dusted with an unfamiliar enchantment.

POINT OF NO RETURN - s f a - friends to lovers. roommates!au. What do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.

CLIFF DIVING - s, f - [series] - friends to lovers. An innocent round of truth or dare leads you and Tae to play a mischievous game without being caught by your friends.

SCENES OF MISGUIDED MAGIC ft. Jungkook - s - f2l. magic au. Living with your two magic roommates means often exploding potions, spell mistakes, and strange ingredients. It doesn't mean sex magic. Except today it does.

MEETING FATE HALFWAY ft. Jungkook - s, a - vampire au. organized crime au. Taehyung lives a quiet life, that is until a stranger insists on walking him home each night, and an unknown figure begins lurking in the shadows and in his dreams.

milkin days - c, s - [BTS Smut Hub collaboration] When a charming but mysterious cowboy approaches you, you are drawn to him like a horse to a fresh bucket of feed. Little did you know, however, what dark secret he kept hidden behind those barn doors. proceed at your own risk.

I’LL BE HOME - f, s, a - fantasy. friends to lovers. - When your first love disappeared five years ago, no one thought he would return. Let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.

SCENES OF MISGUIDED MAGIC ft. Taehyung - s - f2l. magic au. Living with your two magic roommates means often exploding potions, spell mistakes, and strange ingredients. It doesn't mean sex magic. Except today it does.

MEETING FATE HALFWAY ft. Taehyung - s, a - vampire au. organized crime au. Taehyung lives a quiet life, that is until a stranger insists on walking him home each night, and an unknown figure begins lurking in the shadows and in his dreams.

jjk drabbles: | assless chaos | spiderman | unarranged |

sh. - s - [series] Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

IMAGINES AND REACTIONS

bts as relationship sex - s bts reacts to you unloading the dishwasher - c, s

THE SNOWLAB - Seven spicy, soft, and snowy stories for a holiday season of mistletoes and writing hoes.

IN THE SPOOP - For the 31st of October, seven authors have joined forces to bring you stories of rituals gone awry and worlds meeting.

TO ALL THE FOLKS I’VE FUCKED BEFORE - Valentine’s Day choose your own adventure.

#wwilloww #willow's masterlist #masterlist #mlist #BTS #bts masterlist

2K notes · View notes

seodami · 3 years

Text

Dearest treasure | KTH

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts together)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main Masterlist

2089 (present)

Jungwon took a glance down towards the camera clasped tightly in the palm of his hand. With a heavy breath, his eyes slowly moved up to the big house in front of him. Former white paint - now a dirty grey almost everywhere - was already peeling itself from the walls, dozens of thick ivy tendrils sneaking up to the dirty windows and even further. It looked just like the old spooky houses, Jungwon had secretly seen in horror movies his parents were watching. And it especially felt like it as well.

The cold wind was slowly whirling around the dead leaves on the ground, freeing the view to numerous mounds of earth spreading over the whole front yard and probably even backyard. Some were fresher than the others. Some were older than the others.

Jungwon could feel a wave of goosebumps hushing over his body, clearly not only being the cold winds fault. With one last reassuring nod to himself, he courageously made its way over the small path through the chaotic front yard towards the old wooden front door.

It had terrified him when he was a bit younger to even lay eyes on this house, let alone go any near it, and quite truthfully, Jungwon still felt a tiny wave of fear coming through. He had heard many things around this neighbourhood and school...creepy theories as to why the old man living inside this house was seen digging holes in his garden. From murder to even paranormal activities, everything was possible, referring one of the older kids at school, Park Jongseong, who tended to love scaring innocent young students with these stories. And he even heard parents trying to discipline their children, threatening them to pay ‘Killer Kang’ - that was the old man’s unfortunate nickname - a small visit if they did not behave. It was as if this small town didn’t have anything else to talk about than a lonely, slightly creepy, man. And if he remembered correctly, he never saw or heard anyone even trying to talk to him. So what did they know?

Jungwon heard a lot. To say the least, he questioned himself quietly if he should have just chosen another topic for his video and interview for a school project. He could have. But something deep down told him quietly not to judge too quickly, not to judge a book only by it’s cover. His parents and his grandmother taught him that early on and it stayed with him ever since. He wanted to give this poor scrutinised man a chance to actually explain himself. Why was he always digging these holes into the ground? Maybe he really was a serial killer and this would be Jungwons biggest mistake, but where’s the fun in not even trying? Right? He could only lose, well...his life...

The 14 year old boy quickly shook his head, trying to stay positive. And then he finally pressed the rusty bell on the side of the door. He heard nothing at first, it was as quiet as it could get, no steps, no talking, no TV. The eerie feeling hanging in the air didn’t make it any better for Jungwon to stay calm and not giddy. “You can do this! He’s not even creepy.” He tried to hype himself up.

He almost wanted to ring again, as his heart sunk. Damp slow steps were coming closer and closer, making him hold his breath unconsciously. The door opened in an awful slow motion, revealing the old man everyone was afraid of. White hair framed his sunken in face full of deep wrinkles. He used a walking stick to stand, his position was crouched forward, so he was about the same height as him, maybe even a bit smaller. And when Jungwon met his eyes, there was a glint in them, that almost scared him off like all the other kids would have. But he stayed put.

The man didn’t say anything, just stared at him, awaiting him to explain this very unusual visit. Nobody had ever dared to ring his house. Not even the mailman thought of doing so.

“Good Morning Mr Kang. Uhm ...I am Yang Jungwon.” The young boy began with slightly unstable voice, trying to get a hold of himself. “I am a student at Namgang Highschool and we are currently doing individual video projects containing an interview with someone we find fascinating and want to learn more about. And...I was wondering if...if maybe it would be possible to...interview you?” Jungwon managed to squeak out, hiding his trembling hands from Mr. Kangs boring hawk eyes.

He still hadn’t said anything, looking up and down the underaged student. Then his eyes met his shaky ones again. “Is this a joke again, boy? Because I have no tolerance for silly boy pranks.” He finally muttered out in a harsh tone, letting Jungwon flinch the slightest. He quickly shook his head, implying that this was his last wish to do.

“No sir, no I swear this is a very serious question and project. I wouldn’t dare to do anything but.” The boy rambled, now fiddling nervously with the hem of his uniform jacket. The man pulled his glasses somewhat higher on his nose before he gave the student a hesitant nod.

“You are the first person for years daring to come talk to me...” he noted absent minded, eyes wandering behind the boy to check if there really weren’t any stupid kids hiding inside the bushes. “How...extraordinary.” He muttered, clinging onto his walking stick as he began turning around.

“You said fascinating people, boy? I have to disappoint you, there is nothing interesting about me, I dare say.” A small sigh left his mouth, beginning to close his door slowly but Jungwon was quicker. What had gotten into him? Was it the surprise at his not so cold attire or maybe has he just gone crazy? But Jungwon wanted to know more about his story. There had to be more.

“Sir, no please. You may think so but quite frankly you are the talk of town every day.” Jungwon began but got stopped hearing the other one scoffing displeased. “Killer Kang...I know this nickname they all give me. Do you use it too? I don’t want to have anything to do with people like this.” His tone got harsher again.

Jungwon frantically shook his head again. “I don’t. I would never. This is the reason why I chose to interview you in the first place. I want to hear your part about everything. I think it is only fair to give you a proper chance to explain. They just don’t know.” He gave the man a pleading look. Mr. Kang hesitated again, letting the boys words sink in. He didn’t seem like he could harm a fly, he thought. Was is worth the struggle?

He didn’t know what or why he was doing it but the next thing Jungwon saw was him walking slowly into the house again, leaving the door open. Should he follow? A quick look over his shoulder told him he should. Jungwon couldn’t believe he really meant it so he still stood unsure, fiddling with the silver camera in his hands, metal cooling against his sweaty palms. “Are you coming, or what?” The now softer voice of the white haired man asked still trotting forward in a steady pace.

This woke Jungwon immediately out of his trance, stumbling clumsily stuttering and rambling while thanking him over and over again. He had made it.

He entered the dark hallway, suddenly being hit with a strong smell of a typical musty grandparents house. It remembered him of his own grandmother’s one, where he spent almost half of his childhood. With one swift movement, he gently shut the door and followed the tracks of this houses owner without forgetting to put his shoes off. There were some stacks of newspaper laying around randomly, old picture frames hanging on some of the white and dark green walls and old brown rugs adorning the cold floor. He noticed a small picture of a young lady in a baby blue dress, sitting on a self built swing while smiling ear to ear. But he quickly moved on. It was as every other old people’s home, Jungwon thought.

“Boy, say, do you want a cup of tea? Or water?” The young student heard the now calm voice asking him, seeing as they arrived in the living room. An antique looking glass chandelier was hanging right in the middle, brown couches placed generously inside the big room. Jungwon was surprised. He expected to shake with pure fear in his veins, but why did it feel like he was just visiting his grandparents? A friendly visit. That was the first moment he knew he misjudged the famously feared old man.

“No thank you. I was wondering if I could maybe...film the whole thing? The interview? I prepared some questions already if that is fine with you.” Jungwon timidly pulled out the camera behind his back and soon enough some pieces of paper. There was a moment of silence, Mr. Kang just looking speechlessly at the innocent and oh so polite brown haired boy. His heart already told him, despite his inner conflicts, that he was a nice boy. A really well-behaved kid. He could tell him, he could understand, and maybe even help. At least that was his hope.

“You are really something else. Jungho was your name?” With small steps he wandered to one of the couches, plopping down painfully slow with a nasty crack of his bones into an already deep hollow on the couch. Just like his grandparents. Jungwon by now was really overwhelmed by the mans compliance and...kindness?

“It’s Jungwon, Mr. Kang.” He added, earning an understanding nod from his side, followed by a motion of his hand for him to sit down. “Of course, of course. You can set up the camera on the table if you have to. It was a long time ago since...anyone filmed me.”

It didn’t took long for the eager student to put his camera on the table in a good angle. His script was already sprawled all across his lap and with nervous looks in between, he asked the man if he was ready to begin the interview. Jungwon was aching to know the truth behind the misunderstood lonely person in front of him. He finally wanted to clear the unpleasant rumours about him, wanting to know what really was behind his actions.

“Ready, boy.”

Jungwon clicked the red recording button on his camera, sitting down on the couch behind it. And he did not waste any time to start.

“My first question for you Mr Kang, has to do with your widely spreaded nickname. As you told me earlier, you were already aware of such name. What do you think about it?”

It was the second time, he heard him scoff in annoyance. “It’s ridiculous what people tend to gossip behind someone’s back when they are bored. Whoever believes these ignorant, mindless comments should go to school again and get educated. This nickname... ‘Killer Kang’ -“ he stopped to caugh out loudly, repositioning himself more comfortable in his seat before continuing to talk. “ - holds absolute no truth in it. I can’t seem to think why somebody even invented it.”

Jungwon immediately nodded in agreement, earning a small nod from the man himself. “That was exactly my point. It looked almost like people just invented some crazy untrue theories when they cannot seem to understand a certain...action.” He tried to find the right words. “It’s probably nothing new to hear, but people around this town, I think they came up with this name solely to...to find an explanation as to why...the holes...I mean you digging them with a shovel in your garden...is that...” he lost his voice in the end of his sentence, not wanting to say any wrong words.

But Mr. Kang just nodded, looking out of the window with a distant look. He suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It’s probably not the answer you or all the people would like to hear. All the foolish theories. It’s something far more...simple.” He looked over to Jungwon, soft eyes under the thick crease above them. He was ready to tell someone. Just anyone. He longed for a conversation for too long, maybe that is why he agreed in the first place.

He was so lonely.

“Let me tell you my story right from the beginning. I hope you do have some time, boy, it might be a longer story.”

And then he began to tell his story. Your story.

38 notes · View notes