#servant taehyung

[bultaonene]

tk corset prompt

“Taehyung. Come here.”

Taehyung tightens his hold on the towels he’s carrying. Not too much, of course - he doesn’t want to ruin Master Jeon’s bath towels.

“I was told to bring these to the laundry room, Master Jeon.”

He can’t see him with the door left only slightly ajar, but he’s sure tat the master of the house is pushing his tongue against his cheek, just like he always does when people don’t immediately bend to his wishes.

“And I just told you to come here. I think one of those orders is clearly more important, don’t you think?”

Master Jeon says so and then clicks his tongue, obviously tickled off. Taehyung takes some satisfaction in hearing his annoyance so clearly in his tongue.

Unfortunately, that’s the only satisfaction he can get. He wishes he could walk away and ignore him, but he likes his head too much to risk parting with it just to disobey a bratty noble.

He pushes the door and enters, the hinges creaking ominously. The Jeon Manor is an old building, lavish and gloomy, impeccable and seemingly falling to pieces at once. Old nobility, the Jeons. Old and rotten and, in the case of the younger one, atrociously spoiled.

Jeon Jeongguk is facing a window, his figure too dark to distinguish his outline well. Not only because of the light – the noble loves to dress in clothes as inky as his hair, as dark as his eyes.

“Give me a hand, won’t you?”

His voice is honey sweet and melodious, the tone deceptively gentle. As if he’s truly asking for a favor and not issuing an order.

He moves from the window towards his wardrobe, trailing his finger on the wall like he’s tracing a line on it, like he’s scraping away the dark wood to reveal the decaying foundations of the Jeon Manor.

He never looks at Taehyung. No, he’s too good for that, too above him. He only gives him his shoulders, broad and strong, clad in a fabric too precious for Taehyung to even look at it.

It’s when he looks at his outfit that he understands what the noble is asking help with. His clothing is simple - expensive slacks, even more expensive top. But wound around his waist there’s a leather corset that gives him that final touch, makes him look just that tad more unreacheable and lavish.

The leather corset is half open, ribbons cascading from his back like a black waterfall. Taehyung hitches to touch them, to feel their silkyness under his fingertips.

He swallows down when Master Jeon grips the bed’s footboard, bending down marginally. It’s just a bit, but it’s enough to make the line of his shoulders look stronger, the width of his waist smaller. As if by simply leaning forward he put things into another perspective, one that makes Taehyung’s head spin.

“I can call someone else to help, I don’t know-”

“I didn’t ask for someone else, Taehyung” he says and the way he pronounces his name, the way he drags the 'hyung' like he can’t bear his tongue to get separated from the syllable. It makes Taehyung feel hot and cold at the same time. “I asked you to help me. It shouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Of course, Master Jeon.” He replies and bows his head, because that’s what people like Taehyung do. That’s what he has to do.

The steps he takes to get closer to the noble sound too loud, like a march he didn’t ask to be a part of. And the closer he gets the more he’s mesmerized by the details - Jeon’s hand flexing and gripping the board tighter, the ribbons swaying with every movement he makes.

Taehyung knows how to tie a corset. He helped his sister do it when she got married, because that was the only occasion they felt fancy enough to get her one. They’ve barely have seen a corset in their lifetimes, much less wore it, but Taehyung asked the maids and the ladies-in-waiting and so when it was time he tied it perfectly, helped his sister slip a white gown over it and kissed her on the forehead before sending her off.

He knows what to do without having to be told anything, so he brushes his trembling hands towards the ribbons at the top. He’s afraid to touch, to somehow ruin the expensive garment, but Jeon is waiting and no one makes a Jeon wait. He slips his fingers through the ribbons and starts tugging, so gently at first that the corset doesn’t tighten one bit.

“Tighter, Taehyung.” His voice is a bored drawl and Taehyung feels his eyebrow tick, letting his hands be a bit more firm. He tugs on the ribbons more forcefully, but he’s still careful.

“Has washing my laundry made your hands numb? Come on, Taehyung. Be a bit useful.”

Taehyung has to stop for one second before resuming and he thinks he hears an amused huff. Everything in Jeongguk’s pose looks mocking, even if Taehyung can only see his shoulders, his nape.

Satisfied with the ribbons at the top of the corset, he starts tightening the one from the bottom. He has to tighten those before he can pull at the two loops in the middle part, at the ribbons by his waist. Those will be the ones to make the corset stay put, to make it hug Jeon’s waist like a lover would.

Taehyung pulls the ribbon, looks at his hands grabbing the corset. For a second he lets his mind wander, wonders how his hands would look if they were doing the opposite. If instead of closing the corset they were opening it, would they look different? More frantic, less mindful?

But they would still look so big, wouldn’t they? Taehyung has big hands. Wide palms, long fingers. He can easily wrap them around Jeon’s waist, circle it fully. And his hands against the black leather look amazing, delightful.

He bets Jeongguk thinks the same, if the shiver that runs through him is anything to go by.

“Tighter. Taehyung, for fuck’s sake. It would’ve been quicker if I did it alone.”

His voice sounds heavenly but the words are grating, making him grind his teeth together. He yanks some of the ribbons, eager to give him a taste of what tighter means, but if he wanted a negative response he is to be dissapointed.

Taehyung pulls on the ribbons roughly and Jeongguk hums, low and pleased. His body shifts towards Taehyung and the footboard creaks from the forceful grip Jeongguk has on it.

He turns his head slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet. The harsh tugging was meant to put him in place but there is no regret in his gaze and he surely doesn’t look reprimanded. If anything, he looks eager.

He doesn’t say anything, just exhales and turns his head back towards his bed again. And so Taehyung resumes, cursing every ribbon and every eyelet and trying to make his hands work faster.

“Maybe another century or two and I’ll be ready, hm? You just have to pull tighter, it isn’t difficult isn’t it-”

He doesn’t manage to finish the sentence because Taehyung feels his patience leave him and he finally obeys him. He pulls, yanks the ribbons by the middle so the corset fits snugly and tight. But he isn’t satisfied, no, not now. He wants it tighter?

He’ll have it tighter.

Taehyung wraps all the ribbons around one hand and uses the other to push Jeon forward, making his body hit the footboard. He places one hand on the damn corset, on that fuckin tiny waist, and with the other he pulls, yanks the ribbons until the corset is too tight, the ribbons taut from the strain.

“Is this better, Master Jeon?” he asks, hisses the words right by his ear. He keeps pulling and pulling until it feels like the ribbons will rip, until the corset will crush Jeon’s ribs.

“Is it tight enough?”

Jeongguk is struggling against his hold, hands flailing and losing their hold on the footboard. His breathing is quicker, frantic, and Taehyung cracks a smile, feels victory pour over him like blessed rain.

It doesn’t last long. Because Jeongguk is struggling, yes, but his ears are red and when he turns his eyes are burning and his lips are smiling.

“Not quite enough,” he says, gasping a bit more when Taehyung pulls on the ribbons even more. But the motion doesn’t seem to deter him. On the contrary, he whispers a ‘yes’ that is a breath more than a word and he looks at Taehyung, grin getting wider.

Taehyung wonders then who’s really holding the strings - him, with ribbons wound around his fingers, or Jeongguk, with Taehyung wound around his little finger. Taehyung gulps, Jeongguk grins, and he thinks he has his answer.

“I think you can give me more, Taehyung. Don’t you think so?”

or: Taehyung likes the elegant uniform he has as a butler in the Jeon Manor. But he doesn't like the Jeons - hates them, actually. Snotty nobles born with a silver spoon in their mouths, that's what they are.

Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who appreciates that uniform on him. The younger of the Jeons has taken an interest in him, lured in both by his beautiful face and his behavior, just shy of disrespectful. He knew that refusing to lick the Jeons' shoes like a good pet would've brought him trouble, but he didn't think it would be like this.

No, he definitely didn't expect to have Jeon Jeongguk trailing after him, to ask for him constantly and then treat him as his personal slave. He never wanted to catch the eye of a man like him, but it is too late now. Jeongguk has noticed him. Jeongguk wants him.

And what Master Jeon wants, Master Jeon gets.

#taekook #suggestive #noble jeongguk #servant taehyung #rich x poor

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jeongguk #bangtan #bts x you

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Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #yandere taehyung #yandere bts

[sunnebeam]

fall from grace.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

warnings: smut (are we even surprised at this point? as usual, minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc of the time period, but in this day & age please use protection), royal au, mentions of actively trying for a child, other warnings withheld due to possible spoilers

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: finally!!! this cute lil drabble completes my 'smut with storylines' collection (which is basically just an unofficial collection of smutty drabbles i wrote for each member lol). anyways, enjoy reading and don't forget to share ur thoughts! ^^

The kingdom's people call you the Peasant Queen.

Some say it in jest, some say it with affection. But you believe a majority say it in disdain.

A lowly peasant as the Queen? A former palace servant as the King's beloved wife? A complete disgrace!

A number of people chalk it up to a love potion. Others point to a curse. Some say you resorted to black magic to bewitch the King. And the crazier the theory becomes, the more they pin the blame on you.

But in truth, you never wanted to become the Queen. Never asked to be and never expected to be. But your husband, King Taehyung, always knew you were going to be one.

"Is everything to your liking, my love?"

You turn your head to your husband's voice, your eyes softening when you see his boxy smile. You nod at his question, turning your gaze back to the windows of your shared chambers, where you can see from a distance the extravagant floral arrangements you had insisted on for the palace gardens.

"Everything is perfect, my King," you respond, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his hard chest against your back.

"Good," he says simply. As long as you're happy, he supposes he can be happy as well.

"Thank you, my King," you suddenly say, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for helping me commemorate today's significance."

His smile hardens but you don't notice.

"Of course, my love."

Your smile widens.

"He would have loved the flowers," you mumble, your smile never faltering.

His eye twitches but you don't catch it.

"I'm sure he would have, my love," he murmurs. "After all, he always used to love what was mine."

"What was that, my King?"

"Nothing, my love," Taehyung mutters then leans his forehead against yours. The both of you stay like that for a few moments, quiet and leaning against each other, before he asks you, "Have you drank your tea for the day?"

Warmth rushes to your cheeks at the mention of the tea that's supposed to help with fertility and conception. You nod, confirming that you have indeed already drank the concoction.

He smirks, his hands reaching for your garment and removing it from your body. The action still makes you bashful no matter how many times he's done it before.

"Still so shy, my Queen?" he teases you while he's removing his own garments.

"I can't help it, my King," you gasp when he pulls you to him, your naked bodies pressing against each other. "I have never been with another man. I have only ever laid with you, and yet you always manage to make me act so... salacious."

Taehyung always loves to be reminded that he's the first man to have taken your innocence. But on days like these, when the garden looks so decorated upon your insistence and the day holds so much significance to you, your words leave a slight bitter taste in his mouth.

Because he was almost not your first. It was almost not him.

"And I'm the only man to see you in such state, my love," he growls, his fingers reaching down to prep your womanhood. When he sees that you're ready for him, he spits on his hand and coats his cock with the wetness before sliding inside you. "Never forget that. Ever."

"I won't, my K-King," you stutter when he starts thrusting in and out. "You're my first..."

A harsh thrust.

"...you're my last..."

And another.

"...and you're my only."

He groans in pleasure and satisfaction, placing his hands on the underside of your knees to lift you up and wrap your legs around him. You, in turn, wrap your arms around his neck and let him carry your full weight with ease.

"That's right, my Queen," he says with conviction, bouncing you up and down on his dick, letting gravity heighten the pleasure for both of you. "I'm your husband. Your King. Me."

Not him, he adds internally.

Because although you've been married to Taehyung for two years now, the thought of him still pops up every now and then. Although you've been Taehyung's wife for two years now, you still decorate the garden with flowers to commemorate his birthday. And although you've been Taehyung's beloved Queen for two years now, you still talk about him from time to time.

"I love you, my King," you whimper when your husband angles your body in mid-air and his thrusts start to reach deeper spots inside you. "I love you so much!"

She loves me, Taehyung chants internally. Not him, not him, not him.

Your King pounds into you with renewed vigor, making you scream wantonly in delight. Your pussy tingles with each movement, clenching around his fat dick uncontrollably.

It doesn't take long before you're creaming around him, your juices gushing and making it easier for him to continue fucking you through your climax. Just as you're coming down from your high, he spills inside you, his member twitching inside you and keeping you plugged up.

Taehyung promptly carries you to the bed, laying you down gently and placing a pillow underneath your lower half. He then pulls out of you slowly, and when he's completely out, he inserts two fingers inside you, making sure not a single drop comes out.

"Maybe we finally made one," you mumble adorably, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Your husband merely smiles. Finally conceiving a child with you... the thought makes him feel content.

Maybe it's time he lets go of his grudges. Maybe it's time he feels secure in the fact that you married him. Maybe it's time he forgets about the palace gardener you fancied before him.

Maybe it's time he forgets about Jeon Jungkook.

After all, although you were in love with Jungkook first, you never ended up telling him. And although Jungkook was in love with you as well, he also never ended up telling you.

Because Taehyung made sure of it.

And although, in the end, you ended up marrying Taehyung, he'll never let you find out the truth.

And the truth is that Jungkook never went back to his home village to take care of his sick mother. The truth is that Jungkook never died from catching his mother's sickness himself. The truth is that Jungkook never even made it home, to begin with.

All you truthfully know is that Jungkook is dead.

But you'll never know that it was all by Taehyung's royal, bloody hands.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#bts x reader #bts smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung imagines #bts x you #kim taehyung x you #taehyung x you #v x you #bts x y/n #kim taehyung x y/n #taehyung x y/n #cat.writes

[flowerwrites06]

devil on his knees — kth

DEVIL ON HIS KNEES | Taehyung | Oneshot | Request

Original Request: Taehyung as a villain who is willing to kill anyone to protect his beloved oc. This pic literally left me speechless, I low-key want to see villain tae🥹  @yoonberriez Plot: An exiled princess takes her throne with a shamed general. Pairing: General!Taehyung x Queen!OC (Name: Althea) Genre: Royal AU Type: Oneshot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.1k Warnings: violence, blood, gore, explicit sexual content (quickies, oral sex), murder, mentions of sexual harassment. Author’s Note: i enjoyed writing this a lot! writing an unhinged couple is definitely an interesting experience. I hope you like this!

It was so easy to forget the blood trails when they were behind Althea, covered by the train of her coronation dress. The crown ripped from her brother’s head rested gently on her own by the high priest as the crowd of people cheered for her arrival. Althea had waited four years, hidden in forests and cowered in tavern rooms until she gathered enough forces to reach this palace. Her home.

As the weight of the crown settled on her head, Althea watched the shadow behind her walk forward. A chill settled in the room when General Taehyung stepped closer to Althea’s feet, eyes darkened and face hardened from the lives he had taken. Everyone with a conscious told her not to bring him into court. That the moment his sword began swinging, there would be no end to the bloodshed.

But they failed to realise Althea wanted blood. Her own brother kicked her out of her home, just as they had been mourning their father. He wanted her to die in that forest, starved and freezing. So why should Althea gather any semblance of kindness?

It was Taehyung, an exiled general who helped her back into the comforts of her life. Not the court members who happily kissed her brother’s feet, not even her maids who quickly rushed to the side of her brother’s wife. No one helped her but him.

Althea loved him for it.

The hardened face cracked into a small but satisfied smile as Taehyung lowered himself for a bow, keeping his eyes fixed on her. As Taehyung made his place known by her side, cheers erupted and echoed through the room.

They had won.

The kingdom of Dysminia was hers to keep.

-

Althea walked into her bed chambers with a breath of relief. The servants had cleaned and freshened it up during the coronation to ensure. The windows looked at the lit up city, the resonance of celebration echoing through the night, delighting her senses. Ambrose’s inability to rule was inevitable from the moment he started mistreating his servants.

An innocent mistake, the court members used to say when a serving maid left the room with a bruised cheek.

Now he was gone. Buried in a shallow grave somewhere, unknown to anyone. Just the way he hated to be.

She changed out of her dressing with the help of her new maids, back into the soft night dressing of sweet silks and perfumed pillows. Althea dismissed them to be alone for a few minutes. As much as she wished to rejoice in her victory, she also wanted to ruminate and rest her exhausted body.

The tightness she felt in her chest for years, wondering when she’d be able to lie on her bed like this and think of her parents freely. Althea could let a few tears down her cheek, allow herself to be vulnerable in the silence instead of keeping strength until she got what she wanted.

Althea was a queen now.

“Relishing well, your Majesty?” Taehyung’s deep voice reverberated through the room.

She turned to see him standing next to the pillar, wearing his black shirt, untied at the chest and showing off a deep scar near his clavicle. Althea smiled, sitting up on her bed. “I’m sure you enjoyed getting your own army again.”

“They’re a bit frazzled and lazy after Ambrose.” Taehyung crunched his nose. “But they’ll learn soon enough. Also the case of the court members.”

Althea sighed. Fifteen of the twenty selected court members were executed by Taehyung’s sword due to their continued support of Ambrose. The five who lived were essentially too young to care about Ambrose or Althea’s father and their quest to maintain order. They just wanted to survive. “We can deal with them tomorrow morning. I think a few nobles would like those seats.”

“Nobles who sat in between cushions while Ambrose was around.” He walked closer to the bed, standing in front of her like a tower of onyx. “Do you want to trust them with seats now?”

“They’re soft and gullible. But having three of them may smooth the transition to my ascension.”

“I’d call this ascension anything but smooth.”

“I’ll handle the nice things then while you train our army.” Althea leaned back with a smile. “How’re your new quarters?”

“Better. A bit cold.”

“Cold?”

“Missing something.” Taehyung leaned in, playing with the string of her dress.

Althea chuckled through her nose. “They are only a passing courtesy. The court members would want me to be available for any negotiations.”

Taehyung hummed low, the back of his fingers trailing her chest before he pulled on the string fully. “So we should keep this very quiet then, shouldn’t we? As to not offend.”

Althea shook her head with a playful pout. “Of course not.”

Taehyung knelt between her legs, rough fingers pushing up the hem of her dress as the callouses brushed up her skin. “Be very silent then.” He whispered against her lips before moving his head under her dress.

He pulled her core to his mouth, wrapping his lips around her clit causing Althea to gasp.

She touched the top of his head through the fabric of her dress as the pleasure prickled through her lower belly. Althea was forced to only feel, feel his lapping tongue and the heat of his breath as she leaked on the sheets.

Her legs hung over his shoulders as Althea gripped the blankets behind her. Head thrown back, her toes curled, feeling the pressure of his tongue against her clit grow feverish and relentless.

Althea closed her eyes when her vision blurred from the spike of pleasure, moving her hips against his mouth to prolong the sensation. Taehyung slowed, tracing her arousal with his tongue to torture her before latching completely and kissing her inner thigh. He bit onto the soft skin until it ached, intent on making a mark.

Nails dug into her bottom, pushing his tongue into her slit as Althea fell on her back, a moan escaping her lips before she placed her hand over her mouth.

Taehyung stopped with a disappointed hum, pulling away completely making Althea whimper.

“It wasn’t that loud,” Althea whispered.

Taehyung chuckled breathlessly as he pushed her legs apart. “I caught it,” he said.

“You have the ears of a bloodhound, that’s why.” Althea smiled.

Taehyung hovered over her, kissing with an unexpected passionate sweetness. So warm and inviting. Fingers brushed against her hairline. Then he broke the kiss and placed his palm over her mouth, dark eyes fixed on hers.

He snuck her finger into her sodden core, immediately making her hips jerk. Taehyung didn’t wait. Sneaking a second finger and curling to her sensitive spot, pulsating until all Althea could do was hear the squelching of her cunt and the pleasure rolling to the blurring vision.

Choked moans shook through Taehyung’s palm. Arousal leaked to his wrists as he leaned in and kissed her sweat sheened forehead. Thumb brushed against her clit. Althea’s legs trembled as her release shivered across her body in a flare of heat and ecstasy. Her moans turned into a light scream grazing her throat.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath, feeling a gush on his palm of her release.

He took away his hand from Althea’s mouth, letting her release shaking moans as she shook through her orgasm.

Taehyung kept a slow pace to let her feel every minute of her bliss. He kissed her sweetly. “First time I did this to you on a soft bed.”

Althea laughed breathlessly, cupping his cheek. “You can keep doing it.”

Taehyung hummed. “I intend to.”

-

The council meeting with all the leftover nobles was about as pleasant as a gangrenous wound. Morning came and whoever survived Taehyung’s sword dragged their feet into the dark wood halls of the palace, the beautiful sunlight through the windows contrasting with their pallid faces.

Althea opted to wear something sweet, a light lilac of soft airy material with her hair partially down. She didn’t want to demure to them but perhaps a sight of friendly would help in easing their mind. She only had animosity towards her brother, not people who were willing to see a changed world.

Taehyung kept to his colours happily though but she welcomed it. At the very least, if anyone took advantage of her kindness, it would padded by the lines of soldiers in tight expressions and black armour.

Althea attempted a small smile as the nobles finally gathered. Most of them young and curious of what was about to happen but there were three older nobles with a clear disappointment on their faces. “Thank you for attending this council. I understand it’s been a trying few days but I do not mean for that to be the path of my reign.”

The nobles were still quiet, some of their eyes flickering to Taehyung and his soldiers.

“Please, you are allowed to speak freely.” Althea gestured to the Taehyung. “They are only here for the utmost of emergencies, not free speech. I understand Ambrose had been barring a lot of changes.”

One of the young nobles shifted. “The treasuries, your Majesty.” His voice was low and careful. “His—Ambrose, I mean, had been scrapping the coffers for monuments and making estates of his concubines.”

“We will cease the making of those monuments and direct the builders to repairing damages in the village houses,” Althea explained. “A lot of them looked destroyed. More than I’d ever seen it.”

The young treasurer nodded with a shift of shame. “He hiked the taxes and—” he cleared his throat. “—Ambrose threatened people of the village to either pay taxes or. . .or hand over the female members of the family. Some of them refused.”

Althea’s heart dropped. She had received glimpses of how bad things were but not quite to this extent. “So those ‘concubines’ are…”

“By force, Your Majesty, yes.” The treasurer kept his head hung.

Althea rested back on her chair. Ambrose used to be cruel to his female servants but to go this far. Ripping families apart for pleasure. “I will speak to the women and try to track their families or provide them jobs here in the palace to rebuild their lives. In the meantime, we need reparation on our trade relations to restore our treasury. I’ll sign what’s needed and talk to dignitaries if it’s dire.”

The trade masters nodded along with the treasurer.

“And the matter of taxes? Will it be lowered?” The treasurer asked.

“Back to the way it was. We need to get business running again and merchants travelling for them to get income,” Althea said.

“And what of your marital status, your Majesty?” One of the older nobles asked and it reverberated silence. “You did say we were free to speak. I’d like to know how you plan on securing alliances and having a king by your side to ensure a strong lineage. That is equally important to lower taxes and trade relations, surely.”

“That can be a matter of a later date,” Althea said, trying not to see Taehyung’s reaction. “These are your priorities to keep the people feeling comforted again.”

“And what of our comfort? You came in here to paint a shamed general’s sword with the blood of our colleagues.” The noble barely acknowledged Taehyung’s presence as he mentioned. “He had his hair cut, he was an enemy of the kingdom. You brought him here and rewarded him for the way he massacred thousands.”

“A massacre that was ordered by my father,” Althea said. “And approved by you from what I remember. You had signed an agreement without reading it.”

The noble pursed his lips together with a pathetic sense of pride. “I am a servant to a king. And I have been for longer than you decided to have dreams of becoming a ruler.”

“So you agree that following orders that you must do without any conscience,” Althea said. “Then how is that different from General Taehyung’s values?”

The noble had puffed himself up to say something but the words hadn’t quite formed.

“Because he is not a noble, is that it?” Althea asked. “He was from a lower family and he was easy to shame. While you continued to kiss the feet of my father and my brother. Even as I was exiled.”

“You were exiled for becoming a distraction. You were speaking against the king, it was treason.”

“And I refused your pathetic son,” Althea said and the silence turned leaden. Her eyes were harsh, diminishing any softness from her dress. “Master Kang, I haven’t forgotten you. Are you aware of this?”

Kang shifted, a stupid part of him wanted to keep looking her in the eye but Althea saw it flickering. Because he knew the story as closely as she did.

“For anyone who was confused about my exile, Master Kang’s son took me to a garden while we were discussing marriage.” Althea spoke loud enough for the council to hear.

“That is not relevant—”

“His son put his hand under my dress. . .and I cut it off with a dagger.” Althea kept her face neutral. “It wasn’t even difficult, his wrist was a pathetic spindly thing just like his father.”

Kang stood from his chair. “You will not humiliate me this way, you wench.” He pointed at her. “You brought your fate upon yourself. Hurting my son and then continuing to debase yourself with the general.” He spat. “We know what goes on behind closed doors with you two. You’re nothing but a whore.” He kept taking a step at each word and getting close.

Too close. Close enough that it was no longer in Althea’s control.

A scythe like blade glinting in silver came in front of Kang’s neck, pushing him back until he let out a choked breath. His breath fogged the perfectly polished edge.

“A few steps back, Master Kang, if you please.” Taehyung’s deep voice was calm and collected.

Kang let out a scoff but it was with a confidence that hung on a thread. “Is how you will govern us now?” he glared at Althea.

“Just people like you, Master Kang. Who think suffering is a necessary evil when you are not the one suffering it.” Althea shook her head. “Your son got to go back and live in his warm palace. While I froze in a forest, mourning my father and feeling violated.”

“My son lost his hand.”

“I lost everything.” Althea felt a fire of anger in her chest. “And I wanted to provide some kindness, bring you back to court and hopefully repair something. Unfortunately, it seems you insist on supporting Ambrose and his ways.”

Kang couldn’t reply to that. His cheeks more red than ever as the other court members watched him with embarrassment. He looked more like a toddler who created a tantrum for spilling his own milk than a noble who wanted some tainted justice for his stupid son.

Althea did offer kindness. She was trying to be a good queen.

Kang, at this moment, was an idiot who didn’t understand an opportunity when he saw one. “If you are going to punish anyone, it’s my son. I am speaking as a father above all else…and that may make me speak out of turn.”

Coward.

Althea kept her expression soft, looking at Taehyung with a reassuring nod. Taehyung moved the blade away and stepped back as Kang let out a deep shaking breath. “Very well. Bring your son during the evening.”

Kang bowed low. “Your Majesty.”

-

Kang and his son, Hyeon stayed in the same dungeon together, as a family. The women of the family were given reimbursements and Kang’s wife was free to remarry for new heirs if she wished.

A quick execution was in the plan for these two men but Taehyung was now a stationed general with his own resources. Which meant these nobles were his first official assignment ever since his dismissal.

And Taehyung savoured it beautifully.

Althea came to visit the dungeon while Taehyung was on his little trips. She heard whipping sounds and a screaming Hyeon, the same satisfying sound that he let out after realising he didn’t have his hand anymore. She remembered how confident he was, how much he felt he was owed to touch her. Now she could watch all that confidence melt in terrified piss and well-deserved bloodshed.

Taehyung looked over his shoulder when he saw Althea enter. His chest glistening with his sweat and the veins on his arms protruded from the force of his whip. “Your Majesty,” he said in the calm tone.

Hyeon let out a cry to Althea through his bound mouth while Kang cowered in the corner, staring into nothing.

“Your wife has denounced both of you from the family,” Althea said.

“That was quick.” Taehyung placed his whip back onto the steel stand while it created a track of blood. “What happened?”

“Apparently, Kang had forced his wife to marry him and Hyeon had his wife give up their first daughter.” Althea knew they weren’t pleasant people but the stories that emerged from the household itself only made this sorry sight all the more necessary. “They don’t want anything to do with them. Not even burial.”

“I’m almost done,” Taehyung said. “We can have the executions tomorrow morning.”

“One day…” Kang breathed out. “His thirst to kill will make you pay.”

Taehyung turned, giving Althea a view of the old man glaring at them with red eyes.

Althea returned the stare, unblinking. She gently walked towards Kang and crouched in front of him, watching him shift back with a raised chin. She smiled. “I will pay that price. Just as I have for everything else.” She stood back to her feet and faced Taehyung. “Have them executed this afternoon.” Her fingers wrapped around his wrist sweetly. “So there’s no commitments in the morning.”

Taehyung smirked and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

-

Althea watched the execution from the balcony of her bed chambers, wearing a black dress with a beautiful transparent black robe embroidered in gold floral emblems. She kept her expression solemn as if she regretted the unfortunate decision. Even though the loss of these two men was no less inconvenient than getting rid of an abscess.

Taehyung stood at the execution altar, covering his face with a cloth to prevent any splatter as he brandished his sword in the purpled sunset light.

Kang and Hyeon were on their knees with their heads held low as all cowards did when they reached a certain point of their fate.

Taehyung stared up at Althea, awaiting her approval even though they had already discussed what to be done. It was that extra nudge of loyalty sent a thrill down Althea’s spine.

Althea nodded and Taehyung turned his focus back to the task at hand.

Raising his sword, Taehyung swung with precision and took off one head. Kang began to shiver as his son’s head rolled across the wood. He stepped to Kang’s side then.

The old noble began to speak again, foolishly trying to protect his own life. But any word that uttered was cut off with a splice. Father and son united at the edge of the execution block, without their bodies which had been softened and pleasured by greed and luxury.

Taehyung cleaned his sword calmly with a cloth before sheathing it. Dark eyes flickered back up to Althea, giving a respectful bow.

The people dispersed with an neutral understanding. They had no connections to these nobles and if anything, a thrum of relief fell through after how much Ambrose kept the nobles happy and fattened. This was a sign that nobles were not safe in maintaining corruption. Their new queen would protect them from such things not inflate it for self-gain. It was a victory and Althea accepted it like a forbidden sweet.

Her council was set and the kingdom was in her palm.

-

“I’ll have to find an alliance,” Althea said as she straddled Taehyung, their skin sheened prettily from the heat of the room and their antics. Her black robe thrown haphazardly on the edge of her bed. “As it stands, marriage is the strongest way to go.”

Taehyung hummed, keeping his hands trailed up the curve of her waist.

“Is that all?” Althea asked.

He chuckled. “We discussed that it would happen. A marriage between a queen and her military general causes conflict of interest.”

“On the other hand, if we’re married then we might seem more terrifying.” Althea pressed her palms against his heated chest, heartbeat gently thrumming on her skin.

“Are you trying to get me to convince you against it?” Taehyung asked.

Althea shrugged. “Perhaps. You’re very convincing usually.”

“Not with words,” he said.

Althea squinted her nose. “That I know.”

Taehyung lifted himself, chests pressed against one another in the quiet comforts of her chambers. The night was silent in this part of the palace save for the most distant of sounds from the active districts of the city. “Whatever you decide, I will follow. That was the agreement. All I wanted to be reinstated as a general, I don’t need anything more.”

Althea tilted her head. “Nothing more?” Her lips pushed out to a pout. “Not even this?”

Taehyung softened his expression, tracing a calloused fingers down her hairline, releasing some of the strands matted to her forehead. “Would your new husband be alright with that arrangement?”

Althea scoffed. “My father had consorts and Ambrose had slaves practically. I just want you. Is that bad?”

“I’m the last person to judge what’s good or bad, your Majesty.” Taehyung chuckled. “But I’m not opposing.” He pulled her as close as possible, completely pressed until there was no escape. “He can find a way to get over it.”

Althea grinned, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. A subtle nudge of pain bloomed in her chest thinking about having to kiss another person, have them by her side instead of Taehyung. As much as people outside liked to pretend this was some dirty affair, Althea cherished these moments and Taehyung’s faith was the strongest thing she had ever fell back on.

Some king from another land wasn’t going to ruin this, even if he tried.

-

King Yuto resided from a faraway island kingdom named Saoshima. He was young, around Althea’s age. Also handsome with soft brown eyes and sharp features that mimicked warriors of myth. Yuto was one of the few kings who supported Althea’s rise to power since he detested the mistreatment of two Saoshima women who were taken in Ambrose’s so-called ‘harem’.

Upon Althea’s disbandment of the harem, those two Saoshima women were given positions in her court with the promise of returning home should they wish to rebuild. One of them left while the other offered to be one of Althea’s lady in waiting to which she agreed. This news especially moved Yuto to arrive days earlier than they had initially planned, perhaps concerned about Taehyung’s rigid security at the ports and borders.

On the day of the meeting, Althea wore an elaborate gown and thick robe of red and gold silk, embroidered with the respective colours to create textures that lit against the morning light. Her hair was tied up loosely, pinned by gold and ruby pins.

Yuto arrived in a beautiful robe of white and gold with emblems of white lilies as the mark of Saoshima. He smiled easily as his crown of gold florets shone like a halo of sunlight. His collection of soldiers in their brightly shining white gold armour was a stark contrast to Taehyung’s army but Yuto was hardly fazed by it.

Yuto stopped his soft gaze at Althea. “Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet with you. I’m happy Dysminia is in much better hands.”

“I understand you weren’t fond of my brother,” Althea said.

“He slowed down trade, not a good sign for my kingdom. Not to mention the clear disregard of my people.” Yuto explained but a grin quickly formed on his lips. “But this shouldn’t be a time of dour topics. It’s a time to celebrate.”

Althea smiled, feeling the weight of Taehyung’s presence behind her. “I’m surprised you agreed to the arrangement.”

“My mother has been hounding me about marriage for years now. And I have deeply missed our silk and sugar trades.” His eyes seemed to shine in all the right places when he spoke. In a twisted way, Ambrose had the same effect on people until he lost his mind from drinking and drugging his intelligence. “So long as you are comfortable with this idea, I don’t see why we can’t proceed.”

Althea knew Taehyung could keep a strong face but something about the burning down her spine, she felt his gaze. They needed trade relations and he was right, marrying her military general was a bad move. Althea needed to be a separate figure to her military, a connection to something higher and elevated from the earthly events of war.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Althea smiled and nodded. “It’s settled then. Saoshima and Dysminia will be connected once more.”

Yuto smiled from ear to ear. “I’m looking forward to it.”

-

The events from signing the papers, getting dressed and arriving at the banquet to celebrate her marriage was a blur. Althea remembered herself sitting at the table, wearing her beautiful white and gold dress with her hair pinned up in little shapes of florets while Yuto enjoyed the dance performance with a wide grin. Despite being married for a few hours, Yuto comfortably placed his hand on hers whenever he got the chance.

Althea smiled politely back, knowing that he was potentially trying to make smoothing their marriage transition easier. Or he was making himself home too quickly for her liking, she wasn’t sure how to react. Instead she kept drinking her wine.

Her eyes went back to Taehyung who was standing at attention, using his training far too well. He wore a celebratory tunic, still in his usual black but it was embroidered beautifully in silver thread and had feathers at the collar to represent the wings of a raven.

“Do you want to dance?” Yuto asked.

Althea had to push herself back to reality when he stared at Yuto’s glazed eyes. He was already tipsy. She smiled quickly. “Yes, of course.”

Yuto practically pulled her to the dance floor in the fray of her nobles and royals, thrumming from their wine. Althea smiled and chuckled along with Yuto’s movements, even letting him touch her waist since Taehyung intended on maintaining his stoic face the whole ceremony.

Eventually Althea fell into the chaos of dance, switching partners and losing Yuto. When she moved to the edge of the crowd, trying to coax Taehyung into the mix, he was gone from his post.

Althea walked to the front table, taking a sip of her wine, wondering if he wandered outside or perhaps found some cheeky noblewoman who was curious to flirt with the general. She could go out to find him. She could and clutch to him at the end of the night instead of the inevitable duties she would have to perform. It was a momentary, she told herself. Only a few minutes.

Have three children and hope he never touches her again. She took another thick sip before a scream uttered from the crowd.

Althea turned to see the people scatter away like scared cockroaches. She saw a puddle of what she hoped was wine. . .but she’d seen enough fresh dead bodies to know it wasn’t. Thickly painting the floors as a body jerked over and over again. Yuto’s body, face crushed by the force of heavy punches.

Taehyung’s punches. No armour, just knuckles now dripping with red as it stained the white purity of Yuto’s clothes.

Yuto didn’t respond, his fingers unmoving, only shifted by Taehyung’s incessant assault.

Althea’s heart dropped, roughly placing her cup on the table before rushing to Taehyung. “Stop, stop.” She pulled him off, trying not to look for too long at Yuta’s face which was mostly the shape of Taehyung’s fist than his own shape. “Taehyung!” She yelled until her throat hurt. “That’s an order!”

Taehyung latched off with a trained precision as his body radiated with fire. Blood streamed down his jaw and neck, fist coated with Yuta’s blood, dripping off his fingers as he tried to relax them, trembling with fury.

Tears blurred her vision but she tried to blink them away. “Guards.” Althea called out, gesturing to Yuta’s body as they began to clean it up.

“You demon!” A Saoshima guard unsheathed his sword, marching to Taehyung but Taehyung’s army was faster as they closed in on the Saoshima soldiers, outnumbering them.

“Stand down! All of you!” Althea kept her voice harsh.

“You do not order us.”

“I am your closest in succession as it stands. Unless you want to deal with General Taehyung and his men yourself.” Althea spoke through gritted teeth.

The Saoshima guard gulped, eyes flickering to the floor with a tight jaw. He lowered his head, keeping the glare on his face.

“Taehyung, you’re dismissed. Get yourself cleaned up,” Althea ordered without looking him in the eye. “Now.”

Taehyung stayed silent, taking a deep breath before bowing and stepping out of the hall. Drips and footprints of red followed a trail behind him.

Althea let out a shaky breath as she gave herself to look down at Yuto’s body. Her shaking fingers desperately touched the back of his wrist. Perhaps it was only his face that needed repair. No pulse. No heartbeat. Tears fell down her cheeks but she let out a long, deep breath to keep calm. “Tell the morticians what you need for his funeral.” she asked in a low tone as the Saoshima guards shifted in discomfort.

“And the general?” The same Saoshima guard spat. “This could be an act of war.”

“Yuto is an only child with an ailing mother and a country that’s becoming poor from lack of trade.” Althea stared up at them with reddened eyes, sitting in a puddle of her late husband’s blood but her voice still stood strong. “A war will be on your head, not mine. Tread carefully.”

The Saoshima guard pursed his lips together.

“Take his body away.” Althea tried to stand back up. A lady in waiting rushed to her side but she raised a palm and got to her feet, the blood soaked in her dress now weighing her down. “I’ll deal with the general.”

-

Althea found Taehyung in the armoury as he was trying to clean off his hand. There was little light in the room with only the silver moonlight shining through. The smell of metal and blood wafted in the air as Taehyung’s form hunched over a bowl of water, the clear liquid progressively getting more opaque with red.

“Yuto was not an enemy.” Althea stomped closer to him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“He knew about our affair and started bragging,” Taehyung said simply which was not surprising yet this felt different. A taste of his violence in a way that Althea felt was out of her control.

“So what?” she winced. “That’s no reason to kill him.”

“He was bragging about being with you. Being king of two kingdoms.” Taehyung threw the cloth onto the table next to him, staring at her. “He was voicing treason.”

“He’s a smile-happy fool who was drunk. You are only supposed to enact when I order you to,” Althea said. “That was the agreement. If people see you punching around anyone that says something stupid then they’ll think the kingdom is in anarchy.”

“My job is to keep you safe and that idiot was going to be your side as king.” Taehyung gestured to the door. “If he got the slightest taste of power, he’d become dangerous. At the very least he didn’t have enough soldiers to fight back.”

“But his people loved Yuto,” Althea said. “That was the point to find someone who was easy. Now we’re risking rebellion and war.”

“Saoshima runs on trade, you know that, it doesn’t have a military to save its life.” Taehyung shook his head.

“That’s not the point, you killed the man in anger. It’s cruel.”

Taehyung raised a brow. “I’m cruel now?”

“When you do things like this, yes it’s cruel.” Althea attempted to keep her voice steady even though his gaze looked like he was peeling her skin to show the truth. “Killing in cold blood.”

“I saw the way you were dancing with him.” Taehyung walked closer, the shadows of the room making his features harsh as he towered over her. “You’re saying you didn’t want me to be angry?”

Althea scoffed lightly. “You are not blaming me for your behaviour.”

“I do everything else under your orders, what’s different about this?” Taehyung muttered.

“I didn’t order it.”

“You didn’t want to go to bed with him.” He leaned in, nose just nudged against hers. “You didn’t even want to marry him. You wanted to check off a list.”

“It was a strong alliance,” Althea whispered.

“And now the kingdom is yours. No alliance required.” Taehyung’s eyes flickered down to her dress. “Did you mourn in front of everyone?”

Althea narrowed her gaze. “I didn’t want him to die. Especially not in that way, you could’ve make it quick.”

“That was a misstep.”

“A misstep?”

“Am I going to be punished or are you going to take Saoshima for yourself?” Taehyung asked with a touch of impatience.

Althea frowned. “I might just do both since you’re set on being unbearably brutish.”

“You enjoy nothing less, don’t deny it.”

Althea let out an irritated breath, turning on her heel to leave before Taehyung grabbed her from behind. She tried to pry free but he kept the grip tight, making her groan.

“I can feel when you’re disquiet,” Taehyung whispered in her ear. “And that fool’s charisma would’ve caused us a headache. Killing him was not the only choice, no, but it was the strongest.” He placed his palm over her stomach. “Did you want to carry his children?” He cooed, caressing it and ever so gently moving down to her core, swaying her away from anger. “Hm?”

Althea kept her lips pursed together, still trying to be frustrated. “No.”

“Louder?”

“No,” she said but it was shaky.

“The way he kept touching you, pushing against you, he had expectations.” Taehyung moved his hand up to her neck, stroking her jawline. “He wanted to put a child in you that night. Were you going to let it happen?”

“I’d make you watch,” Althea said to maintain some of her anger but it only made Taehyung chuckle.

“It could be comical to watch you be disappointed.” Taehyung began to untie her outer dress where all the blood dried at the hems.

“You didn’t have to make it so public,” Althea said as her breathing grew ragged from the ghost of his lips down the crook of her neck.

“I suppose that was my own little desire.” Taehyung pushed the sleeves down, letting it drop to the floor before Althea kicked it away. There was still splattering left on her inner dress but it wasn’t quite the weight of the former. “I need to have fun too.”

“I think you have plenty of fun.” Althea turned around but Taehyung kept her pressed close to him. “Tell me the truth.” She kept her gaze fixated on his.

Taehyung’s expression softened.

“Say it,” she said. “Was my monstrous general threatened?”

He smirked bitterly, grabbing her chin. “He’s the one lying in the throne room.”

“So it’s true.” Althea smiled. “It has little to do with protecting me.”

Taehyung kept his lips pursed. “It’s a part.”

“You didn’t want him to touch me because…” Althea leaned in, nudging her nose against his jaw. “Tell me.”

Taehyung took a breath to say something. She saw every conviction in him to maintain the playful attitude of this terrible man who only killed because he liked. Because he could control himself. He raised his chin, his expression growing serious which sent a wave satisfaction in Althea’s body. “I don’t want anyone to touch you like that.”

Althea grinned. “Was that so hard to say?���

Taehyung groaned under his breath, grabbing onto her and pressing her against a pillar. His breath hot against her face as he ripped the skirt of her inner dress.

Althea let out a light chuckle, untying his pants to pull out his member.

Taehyung grabbed onto her thighs, not waiting to slide himself into her.

Breath caught in Althea’s throat as he pushed all the way until she was full of him. She gripped onto his shirt, whimpering as Taehyung thrusted with little mercy. She cupped his cheek.

Taehyung kissed her bottom lip, licking across before becoming rough, impaling her. He kissed her jaw, biting the soft skin of her neck. “You’re mine.”

Althea moaned in response, gripping his hair tight which only made his biting harder.

Red bloomed on her skin. Taehyung hooked her legs over the curve of his elbows, pistoning into her until the sound of their skin slapping echoed across the dark, quiet room.

Althea could only imagine it reverberating down the hallway, the mix of grunting and desperate sex right after her husband was killed. This wasn’t the way she should’ve been seen. If a single disloyal servant came in here, her reputation amongst Saoshima would tarnish. She grabbed onto the pillar, back arching. Moans turned to pleasured cries as the warmth in her lower belly fired.

Taehyung pulled her close again, taking her into a kiss as his moans began to grow desperate, getting closer to his release.

Althea smiled through her kiss. “Come inside me,” she whispered.

“You sure?” Taehyung smirked.

Althea responded with a moan, nodding frantically. It only took a few seconds before she felt him pulse inside her, slamming into her as warmth filled her womb.

Taehyung rested her back onto the pillar as he filled her to the brim, moaning against her cheek.

Althea threw her head back, her entire body trembling and pulsing against him.

Taehyung pressed his forehead against hers. “Peace treaties, this time. No more fucking marriages.”

Althea laughed breathlessly. “I promise.”

-

Morning arrived with a lightly aired tension as the Saoshima soldiers and council members awaited for Althea’s announcement on what was to be done with Taehyung. The captain spoke for them again, his eyes still darkened and suspicious when he looked over at Taehyung.

Althea wore black to ensure that people knew she was in mourning while Taehyung did away with his armour.

“What is your decision, your Majesty?” The captain kept a level of respect towards Althea, despite looking like he wanted to kill Taehyung.

“General Taehyung will be suspended for his actions and kept in the tower until the year of mourning is over,” Althea said.

The captain didn’t look pleased. “Killing a king is cause for the death penalty. Only a year of imprisonment?”

Althea sighed. “As it stands, your military prowess isn’t strong enough to hold trade protection. And General Taehyung has the most experience in that area. I still need him to train any future generals.”

“We’ve done well for our trade protection,” the captain said.

“A few of your ships have been raided just this month.” Althea waved her hand. “Pirates find your ships easy to attack. You need stronger naval protection.”

The captain stayed silent. “And I can be assured that this pardoning of the general has nothing to do with any…personal feelings.”

Althea leaned forward. “Would you like me to make it personal?” she asked.

“I am only assessing.”

“Right,” she smiled as she rested back. “Then I suppose we can also assess the flower boats floating near Saoshima.”

The captain’s brows relaxed, eyes flickering around the room. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Althea waved her hand, beckoning one of the nobles to open a stack of papers. “We have reports of young girls and boys being forced into so-called flower boats so officials, including Saoshima military guards, are able to have services performed outside of jurisdiction.” She placed an unblinking gaze on the captain, watching sweat pearl on his temple. “I may be a new queen, captain but I do know what I’m doing. Care to explain?”

The captain blinked shakily. “Those cases do not hold in this territory.”

“Yes, but this also indicates that the people of Saoshima aren’t as trusting of their nobility and royalty as it may seem. You disguised forced labour and violence under a pretence of good business,” Althea explained.

“Even with all that, your Majesty.” His tone turned bitter. “Widows of our king will have no power over Saoshima. That is not how our succession works. It will go to the king’s nearest of kin and nothing else.”

Althea hummed. “Then it is truly a tragedy that you don’t have strong naval protection.”

Confusion for a moment. Then a darkened realisation waved over the captain’s face. “You’re lying.”

“It was either this or you embarrass yourself in a war you wouldn’t have won,” Althea said in a calm tone.

“You conniving bitch!” the captain raised his sword.

In a flurry of black, silver swords brandished in the daylight and private throne room splotched with blood. Taehyung’s own sword sliced through the captain’s neck and his head rolled in front of Althea onto the table.

The Saoshima officials trembled and yelped at the sudden violence.

“We serve the queen!” One of the officials cried out, bowing terribly and almost falling over. “We serve the queen, please!”

“Taehyung,” Althea called out.

Taehyung and his army paused immediately as the puddle of blood spread across the stone floor.

Althea put on a kind smile for the officials. “Don’t worry, gentlemen, you can safely return home with compensation.”

The same official smiled with shaking breath as he tried to pick up his robes so the blood wouldn’t stain the fabric. “You are most kind, your Majesty.” He bowed again. “Most kind.”

They were escorted out of the throne room in silence while the servants hurriedly tried to clean off what was left of Yuto’s chaperones. Althea dismissed the nobles, leaving only her and Taehyung in the room.

“All yours, your Majesty,” Taehyung cooed.

It was hers. Not a kingdom. An empire. 

masterlist

#taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #bts x oc #taehyung x oc

[thatlongspringnight]

A Moment of Jealousy

Pairing: Jung Hoseok/female reader

Rating: M for mature

Genre:  Historical au, Regency era

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dirty talk, foul language, a ring goes in a place rings shouldn't go, outdoor sex, jealousy

Summary:

Seeing another woman even dare to touch him sets you ablaze, but luckily, Hoseok is always there to quench that fire.

Word Count: 1667

Tagging: @xjoonchildx @hobi-gif @miscelunaaa @vintageroses10 @wwilloww @vyduan @minisugakoobies @augustbutwinter @sahmfanficbts @hamsterclaw @starlostjimin

“You’re a lout!” It's almost shrill…actually, no, it is shrill - tearing from your lips as you walk down the hall, clutching tightly at the skirt of your riding habit as your feet carry you into the garden.

You’re making a scene, happily dragging the servants into this, even happier to drag your husband’s *noble* friends into it as well. “You’re a rake, I should have never let you have me!” and then he’s behind you, not even bothering to respond to you in kind - his cold fury only serving to make you boil, a teapot hissing in simmering rage. 

He must think he’s better than you - he does think it, you know it, and that’s why Hoseok has always driven you mad.

Mad with fury, mad with lust.

Now you’re just mad - 

 “Nothing but a rake.”It's more of a grumble, and only for your own ears this time, as the stableman - expecting the both of you for an afternoon ride, seems surprised to see only you.

Yes of course, no doubt Hoseok had stayed behind, more inclined to calm his surprised sycophants than come after you, even if that is all you want.

All you want is for him to choose you, for his eyes to find your own…and only your own. Is that so much to ask? That the man who married you covet you and you alone? 

“Ah - my lady where is - “ “My lord husband can surely ride his horse on his own time.” You snap. “Or perhaps his whores, I care not either way.” and then you are hoisting yourself up, cursing the side-saddle that would have been lovely on a leisurely stroll, gripping at the pommel with your thighs for some semblance of balance and control. 

The comment is cruel, and truly, likely false. Hoseok - even if his eyes had shined today - at that simpering little fool who had the audacity to bat her eyes at him, to giggle, to place her hand on his arm - 

“My lady, I really insist - “ “Truly, you can insist your way to the seventh hell, Taehyung.” And your horse, handsome gelding he is, is quick to respond to your cue to go, and then go faster at your insistence. 

God in heaven, how you loathe the feelings swirling in your chest, the feeling of inadequacy that builds in your chest at the idea he’d dare to glance at someone else. How his eyes could ever darken in a way you recognize from when they fall onto you. 

Fucker - Heartless bastard. The fast trot of your horse sets your fiery blood nearly to ash. How dare he - 

The more you ride, the angrier you get, your heart set on the one place that can give you peace, that damned grove where he had first asked you.

“Dammit!” and there is a call in the air, just loud enough you can hear it, and it drives you forward. “If you don’t - !” You can’t hear the rest but you can imagine it - Hoseok - on his horse…yelling into the wind.

Yelling for you - 

You stall your gelding, quick to murmur a soft stay as you toss his reins over a tree branch, letting your feet carry you.

Just because you want him to catch you doesn’t mean you have to make it easy. And…you do want him to catch you, of course, feeling giddy as you dash into the woods, uncaring of the way the tree branches catch you, or the way your too-fussy hairstyle begins to unravel.

All you care about is the heat under your skin, the burning excitement as you hear his curses, as he calls for you, the feeling of anger so akin to the feeling of longing you aren’t even sure what dominates you -

“Got you - !” and his arm shoots out, around your waist before you can even protest, and protest you do, a squeal on your lips as he all but shoves you into the trunk of a tree. “Don’t you dare even move.” And when you meet his eyes, they’re burning, as searing as his grip on your wrists, holding you more than still. 

“Surprised you even noticed I left.” You answer, feeling the heat of his breath, watching the way his chest rises and falls as he pants from exertion. “You seemed content enough just to be petted and praised -” “My God woman, your jealousy will end us both.” Hoseok grits through his teeth, shifting a hand to your neck, then gripping at your bun, more than eager to tear it down, sending your hair cascading. 

Well - as best it can with his grip on it, wound ‘round his palm, as he tugs roughly enough that you whine, head tilting up. “You made me look like a fool.” “You are a fool.” You answer, hoping to goad him into more, and you can see the way his eyes narrow, how his jaw tightens. Now, the anger has shifted, boiling turned to simmer, the heat warming you till you want to melt under his grip, sting turned to honey. “And a dandy.”

“And you are a parrot, all screech and no teeth.” He counters, and God does he paint a portrait - his grip so firm, his black riding coat cut to fit his form like a fine glove. 

Everything about him screams power, the sinews of his lean form as obvious as the way he’s looking at you. Fond and furious. “You made a scene, you shamed us both.” And his face is close now, so close your noses almost touch as he presses you harder against the tree trunk. “People talk.” “Let them talk about how mad I am, then perhaps they’ll stop sending their daughters to pine over you, Hoseok.” You’re prim enough that he laughs, a darkened chuckle. 

That laugh, so airy when in the company he liked to keep, is even better now, dripping from his lips like a threat. It's so rare that he shows himself as he truly is. Not the sun in the sky, but a raging forest fire - the type of brightness that could swallow you whole, incinerate your very being. 

“That is what you want?” And it's the drop of his head against your skin, the graze of his teeth against your jaw. “You want me to show you your place? At the head of the line of pining women, first to throw yourself at me?” “I am your wife - “ but it's cut off, his mouth hot against yours, silencing you, finally. 

“My wife, my ill behaved creature.” He hums. “My jealous, jealous girl.” and he is hiking up your skirts. “Where is your place? If not on my cock.” And that is enough, your hands meeting his as you snatch your skirts higher, legs already parting at his hand sliding up your thighs, meeting your cunt with those damned fingers of his.

HIs fingers slide into you like a sword to a sheath, and you gasp. There is a coldness, a fullness towards the end as you realize he is still wearing his signet ring. If you still your muddled thoughts, and your aching body, you imagine you can almost feel the outline of the crest emblazoned on it.

The ancient crane motif of his family, now your own. 

“I won’t have to do much work.” He is sly, his tone almost teasing in its dryness. “You’re more than ready.” “Then don’t put in the work - spear me already.” You answer, far too heated to even care for his fingers inside of you- delicious though they are .

“You’re no better than a courtesan.” He answers, but his breeches are undone before you can even fathom it.

His cock, glistening, the darkened skin drawing a shudder of ache around the fingers he still has buried inside of you.

“Fuck.” He curses, and now you’re empty, his hand slick with you as he pulls your leg up, as he sinks into you.

No more pretense. Finally. “Fuck, you feel -” And he grunts, tilting your body till your feet are struggling to maintain their footing, till he’s the only thing keeping you up, the bark digging into your back every time he thrusts into you.

“Y-You’re going to rip my dress.” You are clutching at him, your fingers digging into the fine material of his riding jacket. “You - I will have to walk back half naked.” “Good - that is what you deserve for the scene you made, walking back half naked.” He means it too, and there is a piece of you that wishes he’d make due on that promise, and tear your dress down the seam. 

Make it clear to everyone what he had done- how he had gladly taken you. How he’s fucking you, right now, each thrust of his strong hips making you whine and whimper. 

You love it when he fucks you like this, when he is rough, like the tree behind you, making you beg for him, and beg for more. “Don’t you think they can hear you back at the manor?” He asks. “Don’t you feel even an ounce of shame for how loud you are?”

“None.” and you truly ARE shameless in how you call out for him, his name echoing loud enough to frighten even the birds into calling. “You did not marry me for my shame, husband.” And that seems to break the solid sort of scolding he’s been giving you, a sly grin breaking through as his mouth finds yours, almost like he’s trying to stop you from noticing it at all. 

But you let him distract you, let him have you till you’re quaking, trembling in the aftermath of your want for him, till he’s filled you to bursting, a satisfied sound on his lips, satiated with you, with how you took him.

“Perhaps.” and it's said with no small measure of pleasure. “I should take you in the parlor next, in front of those women you despise so much, hm?” 

#jung hoseok #hoseok fic #hobi fic #hobi x reader #historical fiction #historical au #regency fic #bts fic #bangtan seonyandan

[cinnaminyoons]

!!   taehyung

[ event masterlist ]

prince/guard

“give me your hands. i don’t care. give them to me.”

“love, for you, is terrifying. it’s like a religion. no one will want to sleep with you.”

the black stallion gallops in with a billowing cloud of dust. a white blaze streaks down its nose. it tosses its head and stamps impatiently against its bridle, whinnying regally, and its rider dismounts with effortless ease.

"fetch the stableboy," taehyung orders, dropping his leather riding gloves in your hand. you use the other to pick up the horse's reins, hushing it gently to ease it to walk behind his rider.

"the stableboy is otherwise occupied, my lord."

he scoffs, spinning on his heel to stare defiantly up at you. "not much of a knight, are you, then? handling the animals is below your station. remember that you represent my family – to see a member of the kingsguard stoop so low as to take his prince's horse would be an embarrassment to all of us."

"would you have preferred that i refuse to take your gloves, my lord?"

"that's not what i—" he purses his lips. his eyes flicker down to your lips, the slightest smidge of a smirk gracing them, and he leans in.

he brushes a speck of dust off your white cloak. his fingers linger a little too long on the intricate golden clasp, shaped like a rose, fastening the cloak to your armour.

a pretty sneer curls his lip. "still your tongue, guard, or i'll do it myself." he turns and strides away.

you watch him go with an unreadable expression. the horse tosses its head and snorts, as contemptuous as his rider, and you stroke the softness of the white blaze down his nose.

"you still don't get along all that well, do you?" you murmur, leading the stallion towards the castle stables. "two stubborn individuals with egos bigger than a dragon. i'm surprised you haven't yet thrown him. perhaps it's a feeling of kinship?"

the servants scurry around you, wide eyes following your figure as you sweep an easy path through them – they part like flesh beneath your sword. fear and awe lower their stares to their feet.

the stable-hands and their master surround a chestnut mare, aiding her through a difficult birth. a young boy's dark head shoots up at your entrance and his eyes widen, rushing over to take the prince's horse. he apologises rapidly and fervently, and offers to take the gloves.

you glance down at them. "no, thank you," you decide, giving the horse one last pat. "between you and i, i believe the prince can take care of his own gloves, for once."

you bow your head in farewell just as the foal slips out. it breathes. the mother lifts her head with universal relief.

the stableboy peers around the horse to admire the way the white cloak burns bright like a star against the drab browns and greys. his grip tightens on the reins – one day, he'll be a part of the kingsguard, too.

taehyung is snappish when you arrive in his chambers, arms crossed. his long dark curls bounce with each movement as if to expel his annoyance. he is dressed in his evening white-and-gold finery, which is a complete diversion from his preferred blues and blacks. "you certainly took your time."

"apologies, my lord. i see you managed to get dressed by yourself," you quip.

he uncrosses his arms and his calf-length longvest falls open over his bare chest and stomach. he lifts his hands with an inviting smirk, long-lashed dark eyes roguishly flirtatious. "well, not entirely, sir..."

you step closer, the clink of steel plates softer than others. where they flaunt their knighthood and status as part of the elite kingsguard, clanking around noisily to herald in their entrance, you understand what it means to protect the only heir to the throne. taehyung picked you out himself from the handful of hopefuls – you had seen war and knew how to fight like a soldier, rather than as a nobleman.

if you were to be the last line of defence between him and a killer, he would prefer it be done without the ridiculous sword-spinning.

he hums softly as your callused fingers skim over his unblemished skin, pushing the luxurious cloth down his bare shoulders. you pick up his white shirt, which boasts delicate sewn designs in the hem and stiff collar.

"you are far too old to require my help with your buttons," you tease, fixing his collar, "and you are already late. the princess must feel terrible."

"and yet, you do not hurry," he whispers, his gaze trained on the side of your face as you smooth his longvest over his chest and cinch the waist with his belt. the stiffened leather shoulders emphasise his angular jawline and soft pink cupid's bow. "alright. i can do the rest myself."

he reaches for his jewellery box. you place your hand atop his, keeping the carved wooden lid shut. his mouth opens, but your words come out first.

"allow me, my lord," you request, and he doesn't lean away when your lips near his. the sweetness of his breath warms your cheek and you smile as your trace the outline of his chin with a knuckle. "have you been stealing honeycakes from the kitchen, again?"

he huffs. "i'll be barely able to eat once we get there. it isn't much of a marriage feast if there's no feasting involved – though i suspect our guests will enjoy a plentiful supper."

you reach for his hand, his heavy gold signet ring grasped between three fingers. he recoils from it, and you sigh.

"prince, this is not up for discussion. your blood was fated to rule – show them what a kind and just king does for his people. history books will call you 'the peaceful' and you will wear it with pride. you must marry the girl and secure your claim to the throne. it is for all our sakes." you take his hand in your own. its softness never fails to inspire awe in you – you must take care of him. his touch must never become like yours. "this is the way of things, my darling. i understand this. you must, as well."

his face crumples. the mask of arrogance cracks, and beneath, all that remains is a boy who loves too hard and too much. you were never meant for him, no matter how hard he tries to will it so.

"but i don't love her." his voice falters. "i love you. after tomorrow, i will no longer be yours alone."

you stroke his soft hands, his thin artist's fingers. rarely have they held a sword, and you will keep it that way. "once you are king, you can do whatever you wish – and lay with whoever catches your eye. if that includes me, i promise that i won't disappoint."

he presses his cheek to your shoulder, closing his eyes. he wishes the cold steel breastplate, decorated with his family's insignia, was not in the way.

he pulls away, placing a hand on your chest to stop you from closing the gap. his gaze drops, though he lifts his head. "stop making a joke out of this," he mutters, and his eyes flicker up to yours. "it's not so simple. my hands are tied to this crown – my life is chained to it. soon enough, my father will drop a war on me, and these hands will be stained in innocent blood spilt because i am too much of a coward to give my own."

"are you telling me that because you believe your reign is destined for war and ruin, you're not allowed to love?"

he takes his hands and pulls them to his chest, rubbing his knuckles as he turns and approaches an arched window. the last dregs of daylight are fading quickly into blue. "i'm saying that you shouldn't dirty your white cloak with the blood i will draw, and that keeping a king alive during war is rather difficult, especially when feelings are involved. it's better if we stopped this – all of this. from dawn, you will be my guard, and nothing more."

"give me your hands."

taehyung tries to slip out of your grasp, but he does not try very hard, and easily accepts your embrace. he leans back against your chest, watching silently as you slip your fingers between his. he sighs, tugging them away. "darling..."

"i don't care. give me your hands."

at last, he allows you to take them and settle his gold signet ring over his knuckle. you bring it to your lips.

"you really love me so much?" he wonders, clasping your hand to his heart. he bumps his lips against it with wistful regret. "you'd die for love, wouldn't you?"

"would you have me any other way?" you reply gently. he smells like roses, and his boots are smeared with tiny streaks of golden pollen and dusted with red dirt. "if you believe that your hands are tainted, mine are filthy. when i took my oaths, i vowed before the gods that i would serve the king faithfully until my last breath; i intend to keep that promise, my lord. if you believe i will serve you best without another word spoken between us, then i shall cut out my tongue. if you would rather see me dead than laying with another, then i will carve my heart from my chest."

he gazes at you with something akin to admiration, and a smudge of curiosity passes over his features. he does not pull away. he does not fear you, but that little part of you – that which would slaughter armies to return to him – sends rows of tiny spikes up his spine. "and that is how you love?"

"forever and always, my darling."

"then love, for you, is terrifying." the wealthy gilded edges of his words flake like rust, and the commoner's tongue has never come from such sweet lips. "it's like a religion. no one will ever want to sleep with you."

"no one else, perhaps," you admit. "but as long as you, prince, are the one to warm my bed... then i find little harm in loving so fully."

taehyung turns his head, and his dark hair tickles your jaw. "swear to me. swear to me that you'd rather die than love another."

"i swear it." you rest your forehead against his, and his fluttering breath is warm against your cheek. "i will be yours for the rest of time, and the throes of death will take me before another lover's. my last breath, darling prince, will be against your lips."

#taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x male reader #kim taehyung x male reader #taehyung x reader #bts x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #1k event

[piedpiperslists]

hiii can you recommend any jealous jungkook/oc AUs? thank you so much 💞💞

Hi. I did not expect to list about 30 fics just for this theme 😭 but tbf I also included fics that aren't necessarily focused on jealousy but some which the authors also tagged with.

* ² - two shots s - contains smut

Drabbles

Defense Mechanism by yoongiphoria established relationship Summary: Your love language is not words of affirmation, but that’s not going to stop Jeongguk.

Focus on Me by aquagustd s FWB, college au

Green Room by honeymoonjin s established relationship, idol au, PWP Summary: Post-concert jealous Jungkook.

Head Over Skates by mercurygguk ice hockey player!Jungkook, college au Summary: Jungkook doesn’t get jealous but here you are, bringing out new sides of him.

“I’m not jealous.” by taleasnewastime established relationship

Just Friends by jeonqkooks s FWM college au Summary: Jungkook doesn’t like it when other people look at you the way he does.

Like That by dawnagustd s college au Summary: Running into an awkward situation at a house party? Your first instinct is to hide. And because you have the worst luck, your hiding spot is already being occupied… by another awkward situation.

Ness-tled in Your Embrace by lavienjin s established relationship, PWP Summary: A drabble about one (1) jealous Jeon Jungkook.

Perilla Leaves by hyungieyoongi friends to lovers, fake dating

The Past Is Past by yukheii established relationship Summary: Where Y/N is with Jungkook but she originally had a crush on Taehyung and Jungkook finds out and feels insecure.

The Perilla Leaf Debacle by here2bbtstrash s established relationship Summary: You hate it when your boyfriend gets jealous, but you love the way he takes it out on you.

Tulip by jinfizz friends to lovers Summary: Red roses aren’t the only flower with a romantic meaning, so you don’t have to totally splurge to show your dedication. Red tulips are also considered a declaration of love, and they’re especially gorgeous in the spring.

“Wait a minute…are you jealous?” “I’m not jealous! It’s just…you’re mine!” by taeken-my-heart established relationship, college au

When he’s jealous over the perilla leafs debate by delugguk s established relationship, PWP Summary: 'Next thing you know, you're holding hands with him and end up getting married!'

You are jealous of a new staff member by bangtan-sonyeonddaeng established relationship, idol au

One Shots

A Blight on the Heart by thatlongspringnight s wc~13.3k / established marriage, historical au Summary: You married him because you wanted a new life, and even with the struggle, the fights, you’d marry him again any day. Or - Jungkook loves you from the moment he reads your first letter, and the rest is history.

Absolute by v-hope wc~4.3k / fuckboy!Jungkook, tutor!reader, FWB, college au Summary: After arguing over the status of your relationship and having a bit of a fall out, Jeongguk and you find out you don’t quite like the idea of each other being with someone else. Nevertheless, with the two of you not being precisely a couple, things might get a little too complicated.

Bewitching by taegularities s wc~10.8k / FWB, vampire au Summary: Your feelings for Jungkook differ too much from the quiet agreement between you and his free-spirited, cold soul; too dangerous to speak them aloud. But when desire and longing take the lead, how long will you, the loyal servant to her master, be able to silence what resides deep inside of you?

Ego Season by sparklingchim s wc~6.3k / hockey player!Jungkook, brother's best friend, college au Summary: POV: You make ur secret fuck buddy jealous. Number 7 by sparklingchim s wc~3k / hockey player!Jungkook, brother's best friend, college au Summary: POV: Your jealous fuck buddy pounds you in his jersey.

Heaven’s Open by btsmosphere wc~3.5k / friends to lovers, college au Summary: It’s never a good time for the heavens to open, trapping you to wait out the storm. But your own piece of heaven is stuck right there with you - maybe the rainclouds will shed some light on the cold front that has formed between you and Jungkook.

Hot Boy Bummer by jungkxook s wc~14.6k / fuckboy!Jungkook, friends to lovers, FWB Summary: When Jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? After all, what are best friends for?

Jealousy by jkeuphoriadreamland s wc~2.3k / established relationship Summary: All of this over a fucking perilla leaf!?

My Heart Is Yours by honeytae wc~3k / established relationship

Never Be Friends by jjungxkook wc~3k / friends to lovers Summary: A healthy mix of irritation and amusement leads to kissing and making out with your best friend. Everyone knows that.

Pink Sapphire by jiminrings wc~11k / arranged marriage Summary: Having Jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he’s easy to love. Your relationship’s perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn’t think sometimes — and that’s what makes it the easiest for you to hate him. Alternatively, you and Jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

Project: Star X by xenizaation s wc~6k / rockstar!Jungkook, friends to lovers

[...] So It Begins (2) by muniimyg wc~2.5k / friends to lovers, university au Summary: The one where it’s all about what Jungkook wants.

Stay by jungkxook s wc~8k / popstar!Jungkook, groupie!reader, FWB Summary: Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

The Cockpile: Try Out by httpjeon s wc~6.6k / established relationship, pornstar au Summary: Dating a porn star wasn’t easy. Jealousy can run rampant if there’s no communication.

Two Shots/Series

Denial ² by girlygguk s actress!reader, FWB, idol au, PWP Summary: It's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with Jungkook. You both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. Trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. Jungkook sees, and he's mad.

Four Seven Eight by jiminrings actress!reader, established relationship Summary: You’re secure when it comes to loving Jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. What you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. Alternatively, Jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

You can also check the FWB list. I think most fics there have an overall feel of jealousy.

#fics ask #fic rec

[aseaofyoongi]

a years interlude | kth

kth x reader (f)

genre: 19th century; one-shot

rating: mature audiences only (18+)

summary: a story of pain, healing, love, and the yearning of the heart.

warnings: slight mention of blood; non-descriptive (brief) mention of dead fetus (lost baby at birth); memory loss; slight fluff; penetrative sex; cunnilingus; clitorial stimulation; nipple play; hand job; taehyung looking like a 19th century prince in his photofolio; if non-19th century things are mentioned i am so sorry, i tried to do as much research as possible but so many personal things went down while I was writing this that research was slim.

word count: 10,9 thousand words

posted: friday january 6, 2023

-

-

-

The Levate was your home. It had been assigned as your unruly fate far before you were even a fetus in your mother’s womb.

It was your destiny.

The tale commenced about two-hundred years prior, with your great grandmother. She was a mere lass—young, beautiful and most importantly educated girl. It was a rarity for its time. Initially, the men in her family, your family, were destined healers but your great grandmother’s father's bloodline was referred to as fragile and it was ‘cursed’ with just daughters.

One after another after another.

A couple of years passed before the men of the village realized that their people would only benefit in allowing the women of your family to become a part of the legacy and aid those in need. . Especially, the wives of the select few who were in need of assistance during childbirth, word had it women were growing uncomfortable in being presented with male assistance while they carried their babies for nearly nine months and then having inexperienced servants assisting during deliveries— numerous women left to neighboring villages which implemented the requirement of having qualified female only aids during their pregnancies and in their labor confinements.

After a rather hefty consensus the people of the town spoke and your family was granted their titles as former healers and reputable midwives.

Upon shadowing her nearly retired father and the accoucheuse from neighboring villages, your great grandmother learned the complexity of your modern medicament rapidly. She was very astute, stretching as far as the barriers of your society allowed her to reach. Truth was despite everything she was still a woman and was only allowed a speck of liberty—and one single mistake sent her down a bridle pathway of damnation for an eternity and her grave would be dug up by the Kim family.

The Kim’s were the most powerful family in the village, simulating the most vicious predators at the peak of the food chain. They were pythons while the rest of you were rodents. Their formidable force stemmed from their affluence leading them to soar like eagles in the expansive sky, high beyond the passing clouds—they were as close to royals as Hawkshead could attain.

Your great grandmother had been called on by Viscountess Kim to service in the delivery of what would be their fifth child. They were hoping for a male to supply as an eventual successor after being consecutively burdened by a string of daughters. The task was seemingly simple as she already had a hefty resume in delivering babies day in and day out but this particular delivery was. . arduous. The pressure was immense, she knew there was little room for error, and despite the dozen pound weight dragging from her shoulder, she graced her mind with confidence; the assurance of her skills and began her duty as a midwife.

Things began as usual, the dimly lit birth chamber was crowded by servants as they serviced Viscountess Kim any and all of her absurd requests ranging from kneading her feet beyond comfort to fetching her intricate suppers that could only be found a whole town away. The room was aromatized with the soft scents of chamomile, her remedy for easing the nerves. That was all she could provide but of course, medicine then, wasn’t what it is now.

Her duty was to sit and wait. And then sit and wait some more—until baby Kim has decided it was finally time to meet the world.

From her place at the delivery stool her eyes roamed across the unblemished midnight sky. There were innumerable stars prancing around the black vastness accompanying the moon as they danced a soft tango together. Nights were serene; peaceful and she always found herself enthralled in it. The twinkling seams of the stars were dazzling yet there was no way she could look away. Initially, there was a brief silence amongst the emergent storm sweeping across the dormitory, she recalled screaming; frantic screams. In the beginning they were muffled, so far away, for a brief second she had thought Lord Kim was chopping off someone's head down the corridor—except, it wasn’t.

Lady Kim was beginning to hyperventilate, she broke out in sweats, and the lady maids were flailing their arms in the air calling your attention, their attempt at getting her to snap out of her trance.

“We need help,” she’d heard from one of the many nameless figures accompanying the Viscountess.

“Just give me some space,” she abandoned her spot near the window now sitting at the foot of the bed, “fetch me more linens.”

She was heaving, trembling, gasping for air and her screams could likely be heard by the Levate. Her forehead glistened, “I need him out of me,” her breathing was heavy, “I need him out.”

There was a cold bead of sweat rolling down her back but she remained in her position waiting for baby Kim, (hopefully, a boy), to greet you with bright chocolate eyes and raucous cries. You instructed her to push, and she complied. Again, you communicated the same and she did as told. She pushed harder and harder, until the fetal head crowned.

She almost sighed with relief.

Almost.

But the room was eerily still.

Baby Kim, the baby boy, was now in her hands but he was not weeping—his eyes were closed, and his skin was a shade of periwinkle.

He was not breathing.

“How is my baby?” Lady Kim asked.

But she stood, completely still, the tiny body of what was supposed to be a healthy scion laid in her arms, unmoving.

“How is he?” She asked once again.

Your great grandmother’s skin glimmered in the dim candle light as the sweat trickled down her forehead. She quickly walked the boy to the baby bassinet and laid him down.

“Is he OK?” her pleas to know rumbled in the inner walls of your ears, and all you could do was rummage through your brain for an answer on what to do—this had never happened before. She’d always delivered healthy babies, always.

How could this happen? She had not pulled too hard, the mother seemed in good health. . What evil lurked in the shadows to drag this baby away from its mother before she even has the chance to hold him in her arms?

Lady Kim sat up on her elbows—her eyes were mimicking the sparkle of shining glass, she was shaking with anxiousness; fear.

“The baby-”she stammered, “h-he’s”

Words failed her. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and no matter how she tried to structure the news, sentences did not come easy to her.

“He’s what?” the Viscountess yelled, her voice vibrating through the walls like a high pitched sound wave, “how is my baby boy?”

“Baby Kim has passed on, Lady Kim. My sincerest apologies,” She bowed as her voice cracked delivering the unfortunate news.

The viscountess’ wails were inconsolable, they were haunting and your great grandmother couldn’t help but hang her head in shame. Everything her father taught her was flushed down the drain, her career as a healer was compromised and her life was not guaranteed at the sake of her failure.

All her certainties hung by a single thread and her freedom disintegrated when a lock and chain adorned her wrists and soon as Viscount Kim heard of the unfortunate events surrounding the birth and death of his only son. He—they blamed her for the entire thing, despite her best interest always being the delivery of a healthy boy. They did not listen to her, instead they ostracized her and held a trial to supply her culpability. Her charges included, ‘conspiring against the noble Kim.’

You closed her journal up and slouched on your rickety rocking chair, swinging back and forth lightly.

That was all written by her.

She wrote it as an autobiography for the following generations to understand—it was a reminder of the story you didn’t need to read because you knew it by heart; you lived it; you simulated her pain.

After the verdict was delivered by the counsel, composed of those hand selected by the Kim family, for the proceedings of an unjust trial. They were ready to send your great grandmother to be executed. Hastily, they came to the realization that our family were the only healers in Hawkshead and the nearest family of honorable medicinal knowledge settled days away from our village, so instead of ending her life. . They decided to sentence her and the women to follow to be banished, and sent her on exile to the Levate.

So they walked her to the outskirts nearing the barrier of the viridescent enchanted forrest—she was to reside there and if her knowledge was ever requested they would seek out for her, but that was not her only duty, she was to assist all men injured in the Levate and guide them out the barrier in the direction of the village.

It was the punishment of imprisonment without the shackles, but at least in a cell you had cell mates, guards, people around you—there was nothing but emerald pasture and brobdingnagian trees for miles into the dense forest.

Her husband and son stayed behind in Hawkshead and they continued the legacy of male healers while the women in our family were condemned by her mistake. We were sent to fend for ourselves in the estranged surroundings of the Levate as soon as it was decided by the Kim counsel. A lot of them wed and snuck their husbands in and out of the forest but it wasn't in your intention to subject a man through the complications of the barrier but specially you did not plan to contribute a child into the damnation of this curse. Your predestined beginning and end was as it was, your inevitable demise. There was nothing you could do about it but your principles—your conscience wouldn’t allow you to drag someone else to be a subject of this morbid ordeal and while residing in the Levate was out of your reach; celibacy was the only aspect of your life you had control over.

It’s been a continuity of the same thing, day after day, the same sky up above, the same redundant emerald leaves on the same golden tree branches.

Everything was the same.

It was revolting and it sent you on a spiral of drumming headaches, the same four walls in this same cabin, and the same scenery outdoors.

Five years down, an eternity to go.

An eternity. Seems like ages away but our perception of forever is but mere speck in our reality because to the people out there—living, laughing, loving, life is dazed and comes and goes in the blink of an eye but within the barriers, behind the unchanged days and the repetitious routine your eternity has exceeded the five years you’d been in here and it seemed roads away from where you stood in that moment.

Though you were promised occasional outings of aid, not a single person back in the village has requested your healing abilities for months now and no one ever stumbles past the barriers unless absolutely necessary. You were completely alone, left to rot in abandonment—the Kim counsel knew that but you were certain the infliction of isolation was their specialty for torture.

Nightfall approached quicker than expected that day but you supposed it was the repercussions of being cocooned behind your probing thoughts for a clock’s worth. After dining and changing into your nightgown, you found yourself laying down on the creaky bedstead, you kept your window open becoming astounded by the luminosity of the night sky. The pale crescent moon shone like a bright pearl, and the blanket of winking stars stretched to infinity. Their soft glint mimicked the flickering candle light of your neighbors back at the village, and for a single moment. . you weren’t forgotten, they were just a door away keeping you company until you were finally able to drift off into a deep slumber.

“There’s word in town about the death of the Lord Kim,” There were two girls walking by the southeastern border of the Levate, close to where you currently kneeled picking berries.

Although you could not see their faces, the youth and naivety in their tone was indication enough that they were young, far too young to acknowledge the gravity of their claims.

Being in seclusion was a dead man’s curse because despite the exigency of claims floating around the forest’ border you could never truly confirm its legitimacy.

One of the girls hushed the other, and they began their soft whispers but you could still hear. They were to keep away from the barrier, you should’ve probably warned them but their gossip was far more interesting.

“How could you even know of this?” one of the girls questioned, you didn’t dare peek out from your place behind the bushes to see who they were. . just listened, “what business have you in the Kim estate?”

“For starters, they called on that knowledgeable nurse from Lockwick and the lady maids have been spreading word around town.”

“I suppose you’re right but how could we be certain? They all hide so discreetly behind those golden gates.”

“Process of elimination obviously,” —you’d admit this is the most intel you have eavesdropped on in the last one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days. They continued, “The Kim daughters are all married off, their son is off on a voyage and Lady Kim was seen in town just two days ago. Who is the only person we have failed to see for weeks?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she continued in a whispering voice, “that still is no proof of his passing. I think we should wait and keep this to ourselves if we don’t want to end up like that girl who was banished there.” They were probably pointing into the Levate and were certainly referring to you.

Is that all you were in the village? A fable? A tactic to scare kids into respecting their elders? Did anyone even know what happened?

You sat on the soil which likely stained your blush pink skirt—you couldn’t bring yourself to care however.

‘like that girl’

‘that girl’

The words bounced in your head, their kinetic force dented the delicate walls of your brain. You just played their predicament over and over in a continuous loop. You were alive, breathing but you were as good as dead.

Noone remembered you or your name or what you stood for. Noone knew who you were anymore. You felt like an ant on a planet of giants—so insignificant and useless.

Your only consultation lay beside Lord Kim, in his deathbed if he was even dead. Your hope is rooted, that with his passing, the abolishment of the previous ancient laws and regulations would be mandated. This could be the opportunity to get out of here for good, to leave Hawkshead and live for yourself. You had never wished for the cessation of anyone before but you sure hoped there was a stone with his name engraved on it somewhere, especially after the hand he’s dealt in the suffrage of the women in your family, especially after he held onto the grudge of his ancestors as if they were his own.

Your brain was still frazzled by the rumors of the young girls, still, you attempted to map out who the following Viscount would be to serve as a successor. You doubt any of their daughters would come back, they are all married into wealth far richer than the Kim’s could even dream of. There was their eldest son who was off on a voyage and no one had seen sight of him for the last 11 years. No one knew exactly who he was anymore or what he looked like for that matter.

If speculation was right and Lord Kim has passed—their mysterious son should be coming into town. Perhaps, you could try and arrange a meeting with him, and argue your case.

You could be free.

At last there was hope. The possibility of a future you actually had the chance of living.

You skipped the rest of the way to the cabin. Your feet felt lighter against the verdure path—a buoyant spark coursed through your blood stream, the current sent you floating in mid-air. Intoxicated off ecstasy at the mere grasp of the potential freedom you so desperately craved.

You stood near the barrier.

You were still in the Levate but there was a shift in the surroundings you were so accustomed to. Your initial thought was to run once and for all but your thoughts kept you grounded right where you stood.

Of course, you’ve thought about escaping but if the journals had taught you anything it was that running away would only lead to your demise.

All of your ancestors who disappeared. . turned up in a wooden box days after. You supposed freedom in the afterlife was much better than no freedom at all but you craved living and besides you couldn’t give the Kim’s the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

You couldn’t.

You breathed slowly as the figure on the other side stood facing you. Its face was blurred and the usual lines outlining one's eyes, nose and lips were consumed by irrefutable darkness.

“Who are you?” You yelled out. . No response, “what are you doing so near the barrier?”

It held its hand out—palm stretched out reaching for you; calling out for you.

“I cannot leave unless called for medical assistance purposes,” you stepped closer to the barrier. . definitely digging into treacherous territories, “this is my home.” The words tasted so sour on your tongue, because although you were forced into the Levate it certainly wasn’t a home.

It remained in the same position, you knew you should’ve been petrified but his demeanor was inviting, it called out to you. His vocal vibrations perforated right through the barrier and enchanted the soles of your feet leading you to inch closer and closer to it.

“I can’t. .” you mouthed.

You looked back into the thicket there was nothing left for you here.

One step closer.

The bottomless feeling of loneliness vanished and was replaced with optimism. You shouldn’t wait to go far away.

“I shouldn’t. .” you mumbled.

“Come to me,” you heard, the voice was monotone, displaying no real sense of emotion, “we must make haste.”

“No. . no. .” Your objections convinced no one at all, not even yourself—but your eyes were closed and you shook your head vigorously, “No. .” you chanted over and over.

The voice which was once louder than yours, sounded farther and farther away, its words became muffled and disintegrating in your head. Suddenly, there was a shift and his pleas to have you disobey the rules set upon your life became cries for help.

“Help,” it repeated once over.

“Shut up.” You screamed, finally opening your eyes, there was nothing but darkness. . and you were laying in bed.

You were just dreaming.

You sighed, relieved to learn that you were not on the brink of insanity. . a little deprived of formal human interaction but you weren’t entirely a lost cause yet. Perhaps, the whole thing was rooted from the lone thread which remained intact, the same one which was to eventually lead you right out of the Levate, if the Kim son was as merciful as he was rumored to be in the village back when you were younger.

You sat up on your bed, a cold bead of sweat traveled along your temples and once again you found yourself in solace within the night sky. It was peaceful, as usual, but you couldn’t help but wonder how far the sky stretched. Was there such a place on earth where the heavens met its end? A place where you could climb up the stars as you would a ladder and swim amongst them forever.

There was a whimper, initially, it was faint and you thought it came from a traveler on the pathway near the barrier. But the whines became louder and louder and they were followed with soft cries for help. Unfamiliar, to the one in your dream this voice sputtered much more emotion, whoever it belonged to, surely they were hurt.

You slid on your slippers and made kitten strides towards the front door of the cabin.

“Is there anyone here?”

You grabbed onto the door handle, before stopping for just a second to take a deep breath. After grabbing the lit up lantern from the nearby countertop you made your way out of the house.

“Where are you?” you called out once stepping off the last wooden staircase.

Realistically speaking, you were aware you should’ve armed yourself with a kitchen knife for protection—but you were steered by adrenaline almost; shaken with the possibility of your first patient in five years. Guzzled, with the idea of the presence of another human being on the premises.

“I’m on the left side of your lovely home.”

“Lovely. .” You scoffed, more like hell.

When you finally reached him, he was crushing your rose bush as he remained sprawled out on the ground.

“Are you in need of some assistance, sir?” You asked in the utmost innocent voice.

“Uh,” He groaned, “Yes. . yes please.”

“How did you end up past the barrier?”

“I came. .” he scratched the back of his head, his voice you noticed was grave, much lower than you could remember any man sounding like back in Hawkshead. It was soothing, and felt just as it does when the sun hits your skin on a hot summer day, “I can’t actually remember..”

“The barriers have that effect on people, especially those who were not cursed to be in here.”

“Cursed?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll explain soon. How about I help you up and we can chat inside. I’m getting a bit cold out here.” You stretched for him to grab, he did, and you quickly led him to the safety of your home. You sat him on one of the dining room chairs and pulled the second one for you right beside him.

“Welcome to the Levate,” you placed the lantern on the table. The swaying of the candle’s flame reflected on his perfect fucking face.

Actually, was there anything more passionate than the word perfect? because if there was, it would still not be enough to describe the beauty of the man you’d just housed.

“The Levate.” He repeated, his expresso eyes glimmered under the flickering flame, they sparkled like the hundreds of bright friends you had found in the dead of night every dawn.

“Yes,” after washing your hands and gathering a bottle of whiskey, cloth bandages, tweezers, and a cold compress for his head you took a seat beside him

“Is this forest part of the village up ahead?”

“You remember Hawkshead?”

“Is that the village?”

You hummed.

“Vaguely.”

You placed the cotton cloth with ice against the bump on this forehead, “Is it ok if we remove this sleeve of your shirt?” You pointed at the bloodstained sleeve with the scattered holes which were likely a result of the thorns dug into his arm from your roses. He nodded, “does it hurt?”

He shook his head, “not really.”

“Can you remember your name?” You asked, slowly removing the shirt as to avoid more injury.

“Tae,” he winced. “All I remember is being called Tae.”

“Ok, Tae. .” you began, “This is going to pinch just a bit but you let me know if you want me to stop.”

Tae nodded. His arm had seven thorns adorning his honey-toned skin. “Do you remember anything about your family?”

“Not really,” You pulled out the first thorn and he winced, just six more to go, “I remember I have a mother and like 5 sisters but their names are blank. Is this normal here. . In the Levate?”

“Yes,” you pulled out two more, “It is. To on goers the Levate is a pause in time. This is the forest of abandonment—while in here your mind is on pause and all your memories are tampered by the forces casted upon the ambience.”

“So when I leave—”

“I have never had the liberty to leave but I believe I’ll be but a faint memory.”

“Are you stuck here?” You pulled out the remaining with little to no reaction from him.

You nodded. A faint smile was pressed upon your lips.

“I suppose I am.” After grabbing the whiskey and pouring some into a cloth you began dabing his wounds to prevent infection. His gaze was on you like a spell and while you tried to remain focused you couldn’t help the stutter in your movements as you began wrapping his arm up.

“What does that mean?”

“My great great grandmother made a very wealthy family in the village angry and ever since then the healing female descendents have been casted to an eternity of damnation here in the Levate. This is our home for the rest of our lives.” You looked right into his gleaming orbs in an attempt to hide the melancholiness in yours, his were soft; soulful; and you could easily map out the entire galaxy in them.

“Have you ever tried to just up and leave?”

“Others have tried but it didn't quite work out.”

“These people really hold onto grudges don’t they,” he shook his head.

“I guess it’s human nature.”

“What’s yours?” You stood to discard the supplies you had used to assist him. The ill-lit cabin was the worst reminder of what your human nature was; the Levate was too; your lineage; you were.

“To be alone.”

“And you believe that?”

“Doesn’t really matter what I believe because it is as it is. There’s nothing to change now and the only person who can is on voyages nowhere to be found.” Saying it out loud was unsparing—every time those hopeless words met your tympanum it added to the deeply rooted sentiment of wanting out, of searching for a better tomorrow.

“Who can?”

“Their son.”

“And he’s gone?”

You shrugged, “not dead just away from Hawkshead.”

He slouched back on the chair, lips spread widely in a yawn, his toned chest was exposed under the two torn buttons on his white top—he looked exhausted.

“Well this is the only home in the Levate but you are more than welcome to stay over as long as you like.” You offered.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, my tiny prison is your tiny prison.” You smiled.

“I love the decorative statements you’ve made here,” he unhurriedly scanned the cabin’s walls, taking it all in inch by inch, “especially this unique wall paper.”

“It’s sun dried flowers. . they were all dead.”

“Well they certainly bring life to the place.”

“Thanks.”

His smile was wide, so luminous it lit up the pathway back to the village even from here. “And where shall I divulge in my slumber? I require a lot of commodities, you know.”

“Of course, will a sleeping bag or a duvet do?”

“Duvet sounds lovely.”

“I’ll fetch that for you.”

Mornings were always your favorite time of the day. You awoke, read a few pages from your ancestors journals or medical books, prepared a pot of tea and fetched the daily nutritional offerings left for you by those in the village. It was a routine, one you have grown accustomed to, and embraced dearly because it reminded you that despite being shunned away you were still here. Alive. Breathing.

You rubbed sleep off your eyes and sat up on the bed.

“Good morning,” the voice was invasive and although you knew Tae was here, you just weren’t used to having anyone around.

“Good morning to you.” you reciprocated, “you seem to be doing well this morning.”

“It was but a couple of scratches.” His back was still turned to you as he scrambled around on top of the stove, “I’m much better. I really hope you weren’t expecting me off this early.”

“Honestly, I thought you would’ve ran out of here as soon as the sun emerged.”

“Why is that?”

“A lot of men flee from the burden of not knowing. Actually, no. . Nobody has ever stumbled amongst my gardens before. I assume they would all run for the hills.”

“Assumptions are not facts.” Tae handed you a piece of bread and a small cup of coffee, “I hope you do not mind me staying just for a bit though.”

“That is fine with me.” You deliver softly. The only burden weighing on your shoulders was getting used to being around Tae and then having to watch him cross that barrier to his regular life back in the village without the faintest memory of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed.

You nodded, “I’m alright.”

“So. .” he rubbed his hands on his slacks, “What’s on the itinerary for the day?”

“Not much actually,” you laughed as you were reeled back into your pathetic life, “there are very few things to do in here.”

Tae smiled so tenderly it felt as if you were floating on water—as if you were being swayed aimlessly on a body of water. Allowing the curvatures of his mouth to direct you as they pleased. It felt so refreshing having someone smile at you that way. You couldn’t quite get enough of it.

“Anything in particular you need to get done?”

“I need to go wash my clothes in the river.”

“I’ll come along.”

Upon making it to the river you landed at the usual spot on the river bank where a couple of boulders sat. You placed your basket on the ground and reached for the first item before smearing soap on it to slap, twist and rub the clothes against the rock.

You repeated the same for everything you brought over which was not necessarily a whole lot but you felt the need to distract yourself from being so indulged in Tae’s presence.

“So what are you going to do to arrange a meeting with this wealthy person to get you out of here?” He laid on the grass, his head touched your calf slightly and you swore you could feel the small sparks beginning to ignite as his dark hair tickled your skin.

“First, I have to see if he’s back in town.”

“And how would we know?”

You shrugged, “They’re pretty well known so I’m hoping word gets around and somehow makes it back to me.”

“That’s an absurd plan.” His protests were right but you really had no way of arranging for things to be executed in a better way.

“Well, Tae, that is the best I could come up with. There’s no other way.”

“Are you even being watched here?” He asked.

“I walked the perimeter of the Levate previously but I didn’t see anyone guarding it but all my previous ancestors who have attempted an escape have been killed shortly after leaving.” You twisted the cloth a bit harder against the hard surface.

“So they’re not caught leaving but instead on the road out of the village. I’m guessing they’ve been unlucky enough to encounter people who honor that wicked family.” Tae continued, “how many have tried to escape?”

“Two.”

“One’s a coincidence but I believe in a situation like this two might be intentional. I’m not sure I remember but there might be guards watching movement in and out of the village”

“Seems like it. . but I do not plan an escape. I wanna leave out of here honorably and to break this stupid curse once and for all. It needs to end with me.” You rubbed harsher and harsher.

“I promise I will remember you. I’ll help you get out of here,” he sat up and guided your chin towards him—your eyes met his once again. They were dark this time, almost black and you could tell he actually meant the words he said and even though you did not quite believe he had a say in remembering anything upon crossing the barrier you smiled either way. He believed in you and your hopes of getting out and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You laughed playfully.

“You won’t have to wait long.” He held your hand and his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist, “I promise.”

Promise. The density of the word was far too great and while you wanted to believe Tae’s dulcet words, you knew that even if unintentionally he would forget about your existence the moment he left.

His heart was in the right place but you could not get your hopes up on empty promises.

You just had to find the Kim son.

“It’s really no trouble. I don’t want you knocking door to door back at the village asking about the girl living in the woods.”

“I’ll do it if I have to. You are not your ancestors’ mistakes. You deserve a chance at a life to live.” His touch was still soothing against you, it mimicked the softness of silk and you could maintain your fingers intertwined for an eternity. Funny enough in this situation an eternity did not seem long enough to have Tae holding you as he was.

“I’ll be here.” There was a flutter in your heart—something you’ve never felt before, “I would ask about you but your memory is impaired at the moment.”

“Yeah,” He scoffed, “I’m hoping I’m an only child and hopefully a succeeding prince.”

“A prince would never set foot in Hawkshead.”

“Perhaps I was in search of my princess.”

“In Hawkshead?” you shook your head, “again. . unrealistic.”

“Not entirely.” He laid back on the grass and closed his eyes, “It is no secret how desperate princes tend to be.”

“So now you are desperate?”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged.

“Perhaps—” you reiterated, “and what exactly is his desperateness dependent on?”

“The lady I would be searching for I guess.”

“I’m sure there are countless potential maidens to choose from back in Hawkshead.”

“Hawkshead?” He chuckled amusingly.

“Well, yes, that was your intentional destination. Was it not?” A breeze swept swiftly easing the haze raging in your head as a result of Tae’s words and the scorching mid-summer sun.

“Intentional?” he shrugged, “Sure. But I believe I ended up right where I needed to be.”

“You believe so?” You hummed.

“I know so.” Tae was confident and the certitude behind his words sent a shiver down your spinal cord—just twenty four hours with him and your heart began to pounce at your chest whenever his voice graced your ears. Your movements slowed and you felt breathless as if his being alone sucked the air right out of your lungs.

“The implications of this place are less than ideal don’t you think?” you resonated.

“You have lived it darling. Is the Levate substandard?”

“It is like a prison chamber,” you scrubbed the top in your hands so hard it felt like you were grating your palm on the boulder.

“Do you not believe yourself to be free?”

“I live the same days over and over again, Tae. There is no freedom within these borders.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

His being was alluring like one of those paintings your father kept in his study back home. The soft strokes of the emerald grass complimented the honey tone Tae seemed to have adopted for the duration of summer. Elegance augmented his features from his dark locks, to the soft smile curved at his face, to his attire.

He belonged in an art gallery.

He cleared his throat, “can I ask something?”

“Sure.”

“Is your love already promised to someone else once you leave this place?”

“No.” One word responses were not usually your forte but Taehyung’s question was rather surprising, although coming from the peak of his curiosity you expected nothing less, “why is that inquiry living in your head?”

“I wanted to decipher whether I would ever have a chance with you.”

“Perhaps, if it is written in the stars, we could meet back in Hawkshead and during courtship we could attend the balls in each other’ arms.”

“The balls are pretentious and congested with chaotic gestures of desperate daughters. . I want no distraction in my attempt to romance you,” he was a sweet talker, you had noticed, swatting the butterflies in your stomach was useless — you could already feel yourself colliding against him.

“In society we would not be granted the privacy you require. .” you shook your head, “do you want a forced marriage at the cost of your hands accidentally touching mine?”

“Not forced. . My willingness is voluntary.”

“You live inside the fantasy brick walls of your creative mind..”

“Are you saying you would mind?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Good. Now push over,” He kneeled beside you making your elbows grace each other ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if he did it on purpose or if he even felt what you did but your feet levitated into the stratosphere. His touch even unintentionally swept you right off your feet, “allow me to give you a hand.”

It’s been three days since Tae stumbled upon your rose bushes and sadly it was his last night here in the Levate. He was to cross the barrier early morning and embark on his quest to help you out of here. . if he even remembered.

You really hoped he did but there was no certainty and that very detail would gnaw at your anxiousness until you were given the chance to be face to face with him once again.

“What are you so deep in your head about?” Tae asked from his position on the floor.

“Many things.”

“What? Will you miss me?” He joked.

Yes. You wanted to shout out but you didn’t.

“Not one bit.”

“I don’t believe you,” you were sure there was probably a smug expression plastered on his face but you were too busy glancing out the window to verify, “your days were graced by my charm.”

“So narcissistic,” you heard him gasp, “perhaps you are a descendent of royals after all.”

“It is in my bloodstream.”

An ear-splitting silence fell between the two of you. You realized even just his company sufficed to provide you with warmth and comfort you needed.

“Have you ever tried to count how many stars look over us every night?” The vibrato of his whispered; grave utters bounced right off of the oak walls.

“That would be impossible.” The luminous points invaded the night sky as they did every other night. They were your faithful companions.

“Not at all,” slumber was catching up to him. You could hear it in the stammering, “every night as we lay under the same sky, let’s both count the stars until we finally get to reunite once more.”

“How would we know we are watching them at the same exact time?”

“Just trust your heart.”

“I know it’s selfish. .” you began, “but I wish you could stay for a bit longer.”

Tae did not respond, not vocally anyway. Instead, he turned in the direction of your bed from his place on the floor. His expression was tender, his cheeks were impaled by dimbles.

You would miss his company, and his eyes, and his smile, and the unspoken intimacy you felt dancing between the two of you. You wondered if he felt it as intensely as you did even in such a short time? You wouldn’t dare ask—but your heart was convinced he did, while your head remained on his departure the following morning. No matter how many times he promised, you were aware you would be a granule of sugar in a short three days of his abundant existence, one he would not be able to remember the moment he walked out on the other side.

You wanted to kiss him so badly. His lips were so inviting. . It would be your perfect departure from him.

But there was no use if he would not be able to recall any of it once he crossed over.

“I would stay with you forever,” he murmured.

You opened your eyes abruptly—but he was already fast asleep. Surely, you’d imagined it.

Surely.

“Lord Kim,” a voice sounded through the other side of the door, “are you decent?”

He hummed back groggily and almost immediately his doubled doors were pushed open. The Butler of the Kim estate, Hoseok, invaded his dormitory.

“I told you since I have come back, Hoseok,” he yawned, “you are more than welcome to refer to me as Taehyung.”

“Of course Sir,” he stumbled, “I mean, Taehyung.”

Taehyung sat up on the canopy bed surrounded by fine silk sheets. Ever since he was able to make it home after being missing, life in the Kim estate seemed like so much for just one person. It all did. This bed, his room, his new title as Viscount Kim ever since his father passed away twelve months prior.

Before making it to Hawkshead, Taehyung had gone missing for a period of three entire days, and although his mother had kept this information from him at the time, he managed to obtain the location from where he was found by staff in the manor after his mother passed just nine months ago.

They told him he had been laying down near the northern border of the Levate forest geared towards the entrance of the village.

Back then, he was coming back home to assist his mother with the funerary ceremony for his father—but after losing her as well just a few months after he was shackled to this place as he was officially the new and esteemed, Viscount Kim Taehyung III.

“I just wanted to announce that dinner would be served in about ten minutes, sir.” He did not make it a habit to correct Hoseok on the usage of anything but his name once again. For, he knew his father and ancestors before were rather stern with how they managed life around the home.

He knew his changes would take some getting used to.

“Would you like me to close the drapes, Sir?”

“No, Hoseok, they’re fine. I like to look at the night sky before falling fast asleep.”

“Very well, I’ll see downstairs in ten.” Hoseok walked towards the door and reached for the golden handle before opening it.

“Hoseok,” Taehyung called out, “the files that I requested a few days ago. Have they been fetched yet?”

“Yes sir, they’re bringing up the last of the few boxes and everything should be in the study right after dinner.”

“Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

Hoseok disappeared behind the mahogany door and Taehyung was left alone once again.

Just him and his thoughts.

And somehow they always brought him right back to those three days he couldn’t even precisely remember. The Levate was always known to be desolate; scary and unexplored. Those were the stories his parents always recounted as a warning for him to stay away but he could not help the feeling that there had been someone out there who took care of him.

But who could willingly reside in that creepy forest on the outskirts of the village?

Tae walked over to his bedroom window taking in the sights of the stars swimming amongst the late night sky. In the couple of minutes he stood by he counted hundreds of them. There was a sense of serenity in being able to witness their brightness, there was a bubbling urgency in him in wanting to assign a number to all of them, although it seemed impossible.

He would one day, though, and that was a promise he made to himself.

After scarcely getting through dinner as he did not have too much of an appetite, Taehyung invited Hoseok over to the study in an attempt to get through all of the documents he needed to before dawn.

Under the flickering flames of the candles around the room, Hoseok took the couch with one box while he sat in the leather chair behind your father’s desk with two more. The first few documents detailed finances, work affairs and where your father usually geared towards for business encounters. On the bottom of the first box there was a folder with a black stamp sealed in the top right corner, spelling the word, confidential in all capitals.

He quickly pulled out the folder and scattered the documents out in-front of him. It was a family tree with all of the female descendants circled in red ink for the last two-hundred years. There were two years listed under every single name, one for which they were banished and one for the date indicating they had passed away.

The most recent one showed the latest descent had been banished around six years prior.

Taehyung, flipped through a couple more pages in the document before landing on the agreement between the council, the Kim family and the first ancestor to have been banished.

Apparently, she had attempted to assist in the birth of a Kim ancestor hundreds of years ago who passed during the delivery and instead of public execution, they had sentenced her to banishment in the Levate. Although not stated in the original document they made a new regulation after her passing to imprison all the female descendants on her side of the family as a repercussion to avoid the death of any more babies in the village by the carelessness of their hands.

“This is absurd,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “come here, Hoseok. Did you know about this?”

Hoseok hovered over your shoulder as he began scanning the document, nodding slowly as if he wanted to lie instead but opting against it in the end.

“I found out when it was time for your father to banish the recent descendant six years ago,” he leaned on the dark walls of the room, “but your father wasn’t as understanding as you are. He threatened me and my family in exchange for my secrecy.”

“But he’s been gone for months, Hoseok.” Taehyung reasoned, he was mad that the butler had not brought it up at least once in the past few months, “You’ve had so many opportunities to bring it up to my attention.”

“I did not know many details, Sir,” his lips quivered and Taehyung could see the exasperation glooming over Hoseok, “All I know is the latest descendent was banished and only you have the power to bring it to the council for reconsideration as a Kim.”

Taehyung’s expression softened, “thank you for providing me with the details now. Would you please seek out the council and arrange for a meeting tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course.”

“This is all for tonight. Please let me know of the meeting time and location come early morning. Good night, Hoseok.”

“Good night.”

The meeting was arranged in the Kim garden early afternoon and while you had discussed some pressing points the council held relating to your parents passing, it was time for you to bring your own concern to their attention.

Most of the original council has now been overtaken by an earlier generation for reasons similar to your own.

“Joon, I presume Hoseok mentioned the reason for the calling of today’s meeting.”

He nodded as he gobbled on yet another tea sandwich, “he provided a brief synopsis.”

Joon was the descendent of the original founder of the council and whatever he said went. He was far less serious and strict than his father was but Tae supposed they all were. None of them were their fathers.

“Why don’t you detail what you want to propose with a bit more clarity, Taehyung?” Yoongi cut-in as he noticed Namjoon was far too indulged in the delicacies table. Yoon was more of the straightforward kind of guy and had fought tirelessly to be kept out of the council but with the passing of his father he had no choice but to step in as the eldest Min son.

“This is regarding the descendants of the Levate. I wanted to propose an official release as the original document was altered after the first healer passed away.” you detailed, “it is not fair to continue the imprisonment of those women in that forest.”

“I agree,” Jimin cut-in. His family was known for being quite liberal and you figured the recorded vote against the sending of that woman to the Levate all of those years ago came from his ancestor.

“That’s 2-5, as I am obviously voting against keeping her there,” Tae said.

“I’m with them seems a bit cruel and unusual,” Seokjin conquered.

“Same.” Yoongi said.

He was the more traditional man of the bunch so it surprised you when Joon seemed to be the bearer of bad news.

“I also agree with your arguments but the only way out of banishment for the healer is marriage to a Kim descendent. It is stated in the original document that you should have read Tae.”

“Don’t ‘Tae’ me if you plan to enforce the rules of our beastly fathers.”

“I plan to do no such thing,” Joon quickly argued, “but we were sworn in to provide transparency to the people of Hawkshead. We are not royalty by any means but as founding families we do not and cannot sit above the mandates of those who came before us, for if we do, how can the people trust in us as the new replacing founders.”

“I’m afraid he’s right, Taehyung,” Seokjin was the voice of reason, “we cannot afford having the village against our judgments and decisions at this time.”

This is not what he originally planned for.

“With all due respect Tae,” Yoongi began, “How about we near the borders of the Levate and summon the descendent. From there we can propose the marriage proposal and see where she stands. If it is not an option for her she will unfortunately have to enter back into the Levate until we can seek a viable way to get her out.”

“It is settled, she does not need to be paying for reparations of an accident that took place years ago. Therefore, all in favor of the marriage proposition to lift banishment say I.” Joon was an honest man, and Taehyung was sure the pressures of being head of the founding council was a heavy-bearing occupation and though this wasn’t the conclusion he was hoping for—it was a start.

A wave of I’s circled around him.

He hesitated but ultimately caved as he saw no other way as of now, “I.”

Approaching the Levate was quite intimidating and it certainly did not help that Yoongi, Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon had offered to accompany you on the trip to the initiation of a possible loveless marriage.

They stood near the carriage as he walked towards the barrier. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as a wind of familiarity immediately brushed past his face the closer he got.

Taehyung hoped this would not seem odd to you but he was trying his best to get you out of the Levate as soon as possible.

Taehyung saw her figure nearing the border of the green pasture and automatically noticed her smile beaming from ear to ear. She was as radiant as the flowers embedded in the wealthiest of gardens in the village, as dazzling as the sun and her aura was as familiar as the late-night stars he had begun conversing with ever since he made it back home earlier that year.

“Tae, you’re back,” her voice was silky and your name sounded like honey dripping from her lips, “you promised and now you’re back.”

He cleared your throat “I promised?”

“Sorry,” she began, “yes, some months ago you had stumbled into the Levate after being back from a voyage. After falling on my rose garden. I did a miniscule job of pulling out the thorns and you stayed about three days before heading off,” her recount of the events cleared the patches of missing information within your memory.

“Why can’t I remember any of that on my own?”

“The barrier of the Levate erases your memory as soon as you cross over,” her eyebrows were furrowed, “but if you cannot remember how come you are here?”

“My name is Kim Taehyung III, a descendent of the Hawshead founding families. After the recent passing of our fathers the replacement council made it our mission to overturn the cruel mandates set forth by our ancestors.”

“Yes, we discussed that while you were in here,” she said softly, “although, I did not know then that you were the person I needed to speak to.”

“Your case was the first to come to our attention, mine especially, as a Kim descendent. In the unofficial documents by the founders however there is a minor detail standing in the way of your immediate liberation.”

“What is the minor detail?”

“The only way of our banishment for your family is through marriage.” Taehyung said.

Her pupils were blown and her voice quivered, “who would I have to wed?”

“Me. Otherwise you would have to remain in the Levate until the council finds another way to get you out.”

The agreement of marriage came unexpectedly to you but in your time together she had recollections of only pleasant memories plus made you made him promise to drag you along on his explorations when he had to go off on voyages.

You craved to see the world.

Taehyung agreed and after the small wedding ceremony with the founding families bearing as witnesses. The two of you became husband and wife in the local church after your meeting a couple of days prior. Everything was geared on high speed and happened just a few weeks after your meeting with the proposition.

The two of you barely had any time to talk between the legality of documents and the preparations of the hurried marriage.

“Are we all alone?” you asked, flickering on the lights of the family room as you walked in the Kim estate.

“It is the beginning of the honeymoon traditions,” he informed, “the house is left vacant for the husband and wives and the next couple of days we get to ourselves before embarking on a voyage to visit extended family.”

“Is my family still around in Hawkshead?” you asked to take a seat on the couch, he followed sitting across from you.

“They live a boat ride over now but not far. They were granted leave by my father as the remaining siblings seemed to be brothers who were born just a couple of years ago.”

“I have brothers?”

“Twin brothers,” he confirmed, “we can go see them tomorrow if you would like.”

“Can we go later on in the week?”

“We shall go right before heading off to see mine early next week. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fine.”

He scratched the back of his head, “I forgot to thank you for your care back in the Levate. I am sorry I cannot remember anything about our time together.”

She shook her head, “it is not your fault my Lord. I was just happy I could assist, plus you made those three days the best of my time in the Levate.”

“You can just call me Taehyung if you would like.”

“Taehyung.” she repeated, “so it is true that the replacing founders are trying to implement structures of change to Hawkshead. They seem to be less austere and puritanical than their ancestors.”

He flashed a boxy smile in your direction, the one you missed so much over the past year, “I heard they are trying their hardest.”

“I am glad their compassion now graces the land,” you complimented, watching as his cheeks turned as red as the roses he had stumbled upon in your garden, “thank you Taehyung, for keeping your promise of getting me out of there.”

“No need to thank me. Unfortunately, my descendants were at fault for this entire ordeal. It is the least I could do.”

You gazed at the way his cherry lips were moisturized by his tongue. Perhaps, a nervous tic you had not quite picked up back in the Levate. Was he nervous? Replaying, the rather chaste kiss he left on your lips back at the altar and his clammy palms holding yours you deduced he was in fact nervous.

All you could ever think of however was his body heat in your proximity.

“It will forever be engraved in my heart that even after losing your memories of me after crossing the barrier, you still cared enough to get a stranger out of that situation,” you placed your hand on top of his.

“It was my basic duty after everything inflicted on your family all these years,” you noticed the change in his tone as he breathed out ruggedly, “please do not assume you owe me anything because of this. You do not.”

“I know you are a perfect gentleman, Taehyung but my heart beat for you the moment we met back in the Levate. What I feel is not forced or payment for your heroic antics,” his eyes remained on his lap and he seemed to be averting eye contact at all costs, “but that doesn’t mean you are forced to reciprocate something you cannot remember.”

“I cannot remember it,” he spoke barely above a whisper, “but I can feel the way my heart races when you come in my proximity. I felt it during our meeting. I feel it even now.”

The heat rose rapidly as you felt the way his eyes began mapping out your figure sprawled out on the couch. You figured it was a bit onerous though, as the wedding dress gifted to you wasn’t too flattering on your body. You made short strides towards him and stood in between his thighs, after unzipping the fabric you saw as it pooled at your feet exposing your inner-wear.

His carnal desires were reflective on the way his eyes scorched to a deep umber and his lower lip was blanketed under his teeth.

“Can I take you up to my suite?” The question sounded in your ears like a song being played delicately on the keys of pianos.

“Take me to your suite.”

Taehyung carried you bridal style sharing plenty of laughs at the countless trips and stumbles as he trotted up the stairs with you in his arms. You both finally made it to his massive sleeping chamber—it seemed a bit crazy how you were shoved into a tiny pocket of the Levate while Taehyung slept this lavishly every night.

You didn’t hold it against him but it was ironic how your worlds were destined to be so different and somehow clashed.

“Your house is so grand,” your eyes wandered through the different shades of blues adorning his room, “and to think you wanted to stay with me in the forest.”

“What?” he scoffed, “you do not see me as someone who can forage off the land?”

“You are far from the term, Kim Taehyung.”

“Assumptions are not facts,” he laid beside you on the bed and suddenly you were taken back to that morning in the Levate when he uttered those exact words.

“You have said those exact words to me before, you know.”

“My wisdom transcends the erasure of memories from a magical forest. You didn’t know?”

You giggled landing a soft punch on his elbow. “It seems I was not aware.”

“Now you are,” the tips of his fingers felt like waves of static shocks against your skin. He traced the outline of your chin, the nape of your neck, and collarbone before stopping where your cleavage began.

Your eyes were shut tightly as his cold touch continued exploring your searing body.

“Darling, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Taehyung, you have been the muse of my wildest dreams and the root of my deepest desires for the year following your leave,” you caressed his delicate cheeks with the back of your thumbs. He melted right into your touch, “I have longed for you and now I am finally here with you.”

“You waited for me?”

“Well realistically speaking,” you shrugged, “I had nowhere to go. My only option was to wait.”

He winked, “I will remember it my way.”

As a substitute to the small talk the both of you had engaged in to relieve some of the tension clinging to the air, you found yourselves leaning into each other at a leaden speed until finally your lips crashed into one another. His tender lips tasted of strawberries exactly as you imagined.

And the way his lips moved against yours was agonizingly mellow - and made you feel faint.

Who would have guessed being free could ever taste so sweet. . so fucking sweet.

The two of you were bare, crashing back into the ocean of his silk sheets. His wandering touch landed on your breast, while his kisses continued sweeping you off your feet. . his fingers focused on your nipple as he began rolling, pinching, and rubbing the sensitive bud.

“Taehyung. .” you breathed out.

“I’m just getting started,”

His pillowy lips trailed down your stomach leaving icy wet kisses on your skin leading you to succumb to the delicacy of his care. Your paradise you quickly realized was at the mercy of Taehyung’s ministrations.

The way he pecked your body so sweetly was intoxicating.

Just when you believed he reached his destination, he continued to travel lower and lower positioning himself between your thighs.

“Taehyung?” your eyes met his as he hovered over your arousal.

“Do you trust me darling?”

He propped your legs up on his shoulders. A yelp escaped your lips as your pussy was now placed right in front of his face.

Your heart began pounding against your chest blaringly - it became so potent you could almost hear its rhythmic beat against the shell of your ear.

“I trust you.”

The feeling was electrifying and beat through you like a bolt of lightning igniting a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. His effects on you were lost in the darkness invading your surroundings; still he devoured you as if you were the last meal he’s been presented with.

His tongue licked and sucked your clit. Your breath hitched and all your voice could manage were incoherent babbles accompanied by the chanting of his name.

“Y-you are so good Taehyung.”

He hummed against your folds.

“So good, Taehyung.” You repeated, lacing your finger into his dark strands.

There were spurs of white light behind your eyelids as you became enthralled in the way he continued to move against you. The pleasure was addicting and you were afraid your longing wish was to have Taehyung on his knees every hour of every day and at every given moment.

“Please do not stop,” He continued, “please.”

There were successions of shooting stars ornamenting the heavens and finally you reached the breath-taking place where the earth and the sky meet.

Your heaven.

“You were so good darling,” he paused, “you took my breath away.”

His voice is now deeper than you remembered. A train of moonlight invaded his dormitory. Taehyung looked as stunning as ever, his hair is a disheveled mess, his lips adopted a deeper hue of scarlet while his features were inundated with his sweat.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The feeling was foreign and dissimilar to the feeling you had experienced hen his mouth ate you out, you felt full with him inside of you and although initially there was pain, the more you grew accustomed to it the more pleasure you felt.

His hips moved slowly in and out of you.

Your whimpers mixed with his groans was all that could be heard through the house.

Still, his agonizing pace remained, while his finger landed back on your clit as he traced the number eight repeatedly.

There was no falter in his movements, continued, and continued and continued once again.

Those shooting stars from before burst into beautiful displays of fireworks and for the second time that night you reached your high.

When Taehyung pulled out of you he was still hard, “I am going to head to the bathroom.”

You cut-in, “can I help?”

“Oh,” he moaned, “can you?”

“I want to.”

He sat at the foot of the mattress and patted the spot next to him for you to sit—you did.

“Use your hand. Is that ok with you darling?”

“Yes, can you guide me?”

“Of course.”

The tip of his cock disappeared behind your grasp while his balmy palms covered yours. He guided you down to the base and back up to the tip—the motion he set was swift and you could only ogle as Taehyung masterbated using your hand for release.

The thought made you wet all over again.

He whimpered, “I’m so close.”

His hand remained on top of yours but his motions were no longer leading, he was too engrossed in his own pleasure. You hastened the speed, now determined to help him feel as good as he made you feel.

His whispered moans only motivated your movements until finally his come covered your hand.

After disappearing for a couple of seconds Taehyung walked back from the wash room with a towel in hand, “sorry I didn’t warn you about this,” he wiped you all clean.

“I liked it,” you murmured, “I would like for you to teach me many more things.”

“We have a whole eternity for that darling.”

“Eternity. . That sounds nice.”

-

-

-

author’s note: this feels a but rushed in certain parts and I apologize for that but this story is been something that has taken way too long and I was truly just looking to put it out — hopefully it’s enjoyable though.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think <3

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #bts v smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts v x reader #taehyung

[bultaonene]

tk governor gguk x 'servant' tae

"Anything to report?"

"Nothing major. Just a public punishment, but it was a little thing. Some strikes on his hands and the misbehaver was let go."

Jeongguk hums, never stopping his writing while Hoseok recounts the events of the day.

He is used to keeping his mind in two places at the same time and he became a master at multitasking, since the day never seems long enough for all his duties. Yet when Hoseok's words fully hit him, he stops. His quill stains the end of the word he's writing, but he's quick enough to move it away before he ruins the paper.

"If it was nothing important, then why did you feel the need to inform me?"

Now that his attention is focused on his attendant, he can see that Hoseok is fidgeting, playing with his sleeves nervously. His eyes dart to the side, an unusual sight on the usually collected and cheerful man. As governor of a respectably vast territory, Jeongguk can't possibly be in charge and know of every little thing that happens. He has his trusted advisors and his attendant for that, not to mention the multitude of people working under him and tasked with dealing with everything he has no time to do. There is no reason for Hoseok to mention such a little detail - yet here he is, reporting the accident and fidgeting anxiously while doing so.

"Sir, the misbehaver– he's that servant. The one you, uhm, took an interest in."

The quill almost breaks under the pressure of Jeongguk's grip. His features turn tense and he now understands why his attendant was nervous and hesitant to speak.

"Taehyung?"

"I believe that's his name, yes, that might be right," Hoseok lies smoothly. He perfectly knows that Taehyung is his name and he recognised it as soon as it reached his ears. It's a peculiar name and with the governor's interest in him, it won't escape his memory any time soon. Jeongguk looks just like Hoseok expected him to – barely suppressing his anger, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he starts, knowing that he rarely is, "but I remember explicitly saying not to touch that man, under any circumstance."

"Of course, Governor Jeon." After years of working together, the title feels stiff on Hoseok's tongue, but better play it safe and display the biggest amount of respect in every word. "Unfortunately, he was caught by a guard trying to sneak inside a secluded area. For that kind of misdemeanour, the punishment was exceptionally light."

This doesn't seem to appease Jeongguk in the slightest. He stands up to his seat, scattering papers around him with the sudden motion.

"Give me the name of the guard that gave out the punishment. And bring Taehyung to me."

---

After properly warning the guard, Jeongguk marches back to his quarters. Hoseok knows him well enough to guess where he wanted to see Taehyung and he is satisfied to see him in his office, looking around warily.

He is dressed in ratty, cheap clothes that look worn out and dirty. Jeongguk notices with a twitch of his eyebrow that he wears none of the expensive silks he sent him last time.

"Governor."

Taehyung bows deeply while calling his title. His shoulders tremble a little, either for the cold or the fear. Jeongguk motions him to stand upright and so he does, shoulders curved and quivering hands.

When Taehyung brings his hands near his chest, his sleeves ride up and expose angry red lines on his skin, some of them nearly bleeding. Jeongguk clicks his tongue and wishes he did more than simply warn the guard.

He steps closer to the servant and takes one of his wrists, turning his arm to see if at least the inner part of it is unblemished. There are only two slashes there - not pleasing, but Jeongguk is at least glad to see the tan skin not as pained.

"Governor."

Taehyung's voice is deep and rumbling, soothing. But the word is laced with an undertone of something – impatience, sharpness. When Jeongguk lifts his eyes though, Taehyung's expression is hesitating and scared. Maybe he just imagined it.

"Have you taken care of your injuries?"

The servant lowers his gaze shyly and shakes his head.

"Do not worry, please. It is a minor thing."

"It isn't," he replies and he has to restrain himself from kissing his wounds like a lovesick fool. Not that he's afraid to look the part – he already does when he gives Taehyung presents he never unwraps, let alone wears.

If he could he would kiss Taehyung, he thinks. Lean forward and capture those chapped lips with his own, breathe and suck on them until they become as soft as they deserve to be.

He hasn't sent him any beauty products yet. Maybe he should try.

"Governor," repeats the servant again, like it's the only word he knows, "I'm very grateful for your attention, but I do not deserve it."

Attention. Not care, which is what Jeongguk is truly offering. No, attention, because it's the thing that makes Taehyung rejected him, over and over again. Maybe because when a powerful person wants you, you get targeted.

But maybe (and this is where Jeongguk falls in the trap, this is what makes the cat curious, will make the cat satisfied), maybe there's something else. Because Taehyung isn't fixed and permanent, isn't consistent. He let's something escape sometimes, something that makes Jeongguk think that Taehyung may be lying to him, may be lying to the whole city.

Taehyung is hiding something, has always been from the moment Jeongguk first saw him. And Jeongguk is the cat, curious and reckless, knowing that the danger will be worth the satisfaction.

So Jeongguk ignores Taehyung's words and marches towards his own desk, when Hoseok has already prepared a healing salve and bandages. He knew the governor wouldn't let anyone else touch the servant he's so entranced with, and so he prepared accordingly.

Jeongguk turns his back to the desk, leaning back on it. He motions for Taehyung to come closer then, a simple crook of his fingers that allows no denial. The servant obeys, gingerly and unsure. There's a wrinkle on his forehead and a tick of his jaw that betray something, and Jeongguk is dying to know. He scoops some salve with his fingers and starts spreading it across the angry lashes, his anger rising with every whimper that escapes Taehyung's lips. He wants to go back to that guard, to look at that fucker in the eyes while he inflicts him the same pain but doubled, tripled. Because Jeongguk ordered not to touch Taehyung, ever, and his orders are absolute.

But he can't even if he wants (oh how he wants it) because the guard did nothing wrong. Taehyung was in a place he shouldn't even be able to approach, even less enter. Jeongguk can't punish a man that did his job. Even if he wants to.

"Why did you disobey the rules? You went against the guards, and so against me," he asks while he starts to wrap the gauze around his arm. He looks at the bone of his wrist, at the tan skin that gets covered with bandages. Titillating and wonderful, like every facet and side of Taehyung. He doesn't fit the life of a servant.

Taehyung keeps quiet for a while and Jeongguk lets him. He can be patient, if he wants, wait for him.

"I did not know, Governor. I just wanted to see someone."

Jeongguk narrows his eyes at that. He talked with the guard, knows what happened. No one dares lie to him, so he knows that what the guard told him must be the truth. "But you knew when the guard told you," he counteracts placidly but firmly, "and you still tried to get inside."

"Isn't it natural for a friend to help another friend?" he asks in reply, flippant and confident like he rarely shows himself. This is so much more natural than his meek appearance. "And isn't it natural for a son to want news of his poor mother?"

"So it wasn't for yourself."

"It was," he says, and Jeongguk detects no lie in it. He lowers his tone, as if he regrets his burst of confidence. "I did because I am unhappy to see my friend miserable. He didn't want me to do this."

Jeongguk doesn't know if this is true. He doesn't know this part of Taehyung, if he's selfish or selfless. And he can't trust his words because even if Jeongguk does not think it's a lie, it doesn't mean it isn't.

Rarely is someone better at Jeongguk in something. But he reckons that Taehyung might be, at least in this. Still, he knows nothing, not yet. So he takes his words as true and works from there, thinking how can he forbid more wounds to mar his perfect skin.

"Maybe I can help. I know the master of that house."

Taehyung's eyes get wide and he starts shaking his head immediately, biting his lip in frustration.

"Oh no Governor, please. I already am too much of a bother to you."

"You aren't, Taehyung," he says, speaks his name just to taste it on his tongue. Jeongguk ties the bandages on his arm but doesn't let go of it, enamored with the elegant bones of his hand.

Taehyung is never a bother to Jeongguk. He's the best part of his day, getting him unreasonably excited. Or well, not unreasonably. There's something in him that begs for his attention, a shadow of something Jeongguk can't quite catch.

And he sees it now, when Taehyung looks at him with eyes too wide, too teary. Everything, from the set of his eyebrows to the curve of his shoulders looks perfectly innocent and sad, every detail undeniably pitiful. It's the pinnacle of misery, of unhappy despondency.

And, Jeongguk is sure about this, it's all masterfully staged.

Taehyung is lying. This naive, wide-eyed crybaby is a facade, a role he adopts. Because no matter how good Taehyung is at this game, Jeongguk is too. And so he sees the cracks, discovers the weak points.

He wants to know more. Wants to make him trip, expose himself. And so, he asks. "Why do you behave like this?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know you aren't this bumbling idiot you want me to believe. I know your fear towards me is exaggerated. So why?"

Silence befalls them. Jeongguk doesn't let go of Taehyung's arm – if the choice was his, he never would.

"What are you implying, governor?"

This. This is how the real Taehyung must sound like. Cunning, voice low and tinted with a hint of danger, his eyes glittering with something he can't name.

He's so beautiful that Jeongguk barely remembers to breathe.

"I don't know. What am I implying? Why are you lying?"

Taehyung gasps at his words, but this time it isn't one of his wet, shaky sounds. This one is theatrical, this one is sarcastic and caustic. "Lying to you, governor? I would never dare."

But he would. He dares, he tricks and deceives him with so little effort that Jeongguk can't help but be amazed. Taehyung is lying to him, he dares to. He's the only person that does.

And Jeongguk can do nothing but be hopelessly entranced.

Or: before becoming a lowly servant, Taehyung was an exceptional actor. Not many know this since he used to act with a mask, but the information reaches a bratty noble that promises Taehyung he will help him get his job back if he works as a spy, listening to conversations he shouldn't be privy to and using his charm to trick and deceive anyone.

Unhappy with his current situation and not too squeamish about morals, Taehyung accepts. No one pays attention to him now, not when he feigns teary eyes and the stuttered speech of a naive, foolish servant boy.

If only the stupid governor would fall for his innocent act and leave him alone.

(basically: Gguk knows that Tae is hiding something and he's enraptured by how different he seems to be in certain moments and while Tae acts like he's scared of him Gguk knows he isn't in the slightest and he kinda gets heart eyes about that bc ppl rarely remember he is really young and alone and all the authorities and duties weights on him immensely. Everyone is scared of him or envious, but Tae? No, Tae is just fuckin irritated and he LOVES that)

Taehyung after he accepts the deal from the noble: ok, step 1 - Do Not Get Noticed

Jeongguk, literally the most influential and powerful person in the area Tae lives in: hello 😍😍

Taehyung: oh for FUCKS SAKE

and gguk gifts him absolutely crazy stuff, like a golden seal that marks him as a person favored by the governor and can keep him safe and everyone would love to received that, it's like the biggest honor ever but Tae is like "ooh wow...thanks...this doesn't attract ANY attention AT ALL ahaha...yeah yk what? I'm gonna give it back to you yeeeeah I'm not worthy or whatever thanks tho :)" 

gguk totally has a "ignore me and I'll fall in love more" type of thing going so after Tae drops his persona and he's more blunt poor jeon gets wrecked on that front

Taehyung: fuck off you're a pest

Gguk: omg daddy 😍😍 say it again 🤤💕😍

Gguk: did you get the silks i sent you? 🥰🥰

Taehyung: i sold them.

Guk: it's okay i sent more 🥰😘💞

Gguk: I hope you liked the love letters I sent ❤

Tae, Wide-eyed and Innocent™: oh I thought you got the wrong address so I sent them back to the post office :)

Gguk: WOOF 😍 BARK 😍 I'm writing other 349 of them don't worry 😘

Tae, doing his snooping around: as long as no one notices me I've got this >:)

Gguk with a marching band, a giant banner saying 'for my beautiful Taehyung', 15 dancers with a planned choreography, 2 tigers and 20 circus performers: are y'all ready? let's go!!!!! :DD

#taekook #governor jeongguk #servant taehyung #cunning taehyung #rich x poor #historical

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 42

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,948

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 42 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Some Angst

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Weeks. It's been weeks. It's September and it's already Fall. You can't believe how time has flown. So many days passed you by and you're still not out of this house. You're still in Hoseok's grasps. You're still messing around with Namjoon and you don't know what you're waiting for. It's unnerving to think about.

Your money is still there so it's not like you have nothing to go off of. The only excuse really is that Hoseok has not given time to yourself outside of what you do with Taehyung and Namjoon. There are no ifs, ands, or buts that you can't escape under Taehyung's watchful eye. You maybe could under Namjoon's but you're too afraid to come up with something that isn't just you and him kissing and touching. Namjoon knows you want to leave but that's as far as it goes.

You've also, surprisingly, spent more time with Jungkook. Albeit it's whenever Taehyung and you hang out. He even said he liked the way you smell but that was because Taehyung put you on the spot. It went something like this:

You made it very clear one time to Taehyung that you know Jimin, Seokjin, and Jungkook don't like you. Jimin is still harboring that grudge as his punishment is still not over, but you believe the extended time his punishment has is more due to the fact that the brothers are happy not to smell his girls in the house anymore. It's less to do with you at this point you're sure. Seokjin, and now no one knows besides Hoseok, about the little back and forth you had that night you got sick but Taehyung swears Seokjin is indifferent about you. As for Jungkook he says what everyone else has told you. That Jungkook doesn't hate you that that's just the way he is. Taehyung went as far as to talk about it with Jungkook in front of you asking "You don't hate Y/N do you" and all the youngest had to say was that he liked your smell. It confused the hell out of you but that's where the brothers left it at so you said no more.

All this aside Hoseok has fallen deeper in love with you. Ever since he showed you his sensitive side - expressed his worry - he's become even closer to you. If that's possible. He stares at you as if someone strung hearts around you. He's in love. Sickly in love.

As for Namjoon? You think you might have fallen in love with him. You're too afraid to say it out loud lest someone hears you. He hasn't told you he loves you himself so you keep quiet about it.

You're really in a pickle here - being stuck between Hoseok and Namjoon. It's your own fault really but you're not ready to acknowledge that.

Right now you're with Hoseok. Neither Namjoon or Taehyung are available so you're holed up in Hoseok's study with him while he works. You're tapping away at your phone playing a game while Hoseok taps away on his keyboard and mouse. It's boring in here and you're about to take a nap when there's a knock on his door.

"Come in." Hoseok welcomes them.

The door opens to reveal a servant who bows in your presence.

"Lord Hoseok I have your mail for you."

"Oh thank you." He stretches his hand out to grab the letters.

The servant you've seen in passing departs then as Hoseok flips through the mail. He places some on his desk before tossing the ones considered to be junk in the small trash bin he has next to him. You watch him until he comes to the final letter and see the way his brows furrow as he frowns. It's silent for a moment before he looks up at you and extends the letter in your direction.

"This is for you."

It's your turn for your brows to furrow as you stand up.

For you? Who could have possibly sent you a letter?

When you grab it you face the front towards you and read your name that's written neatly. Looking up at the top left your eyes widen in excitement. It says Sunmi Park. Could this be your Sunmi?

You hurriedly go to open it but not without Hoseok asking who Sunmi was.

"She's a maid from my old place."

The envelope comes apart as you take out the letter and begin reading.

Dear Y/N,

I hope this is the right address and that you get this. It's been so long since we last spoke though this time it's through a letter. How are you? How have you been? I wish I could know the answer to these questions but I think this will be my first and last letter to you. Hyung-Won is keeping an eye on me. Just as I write this I look over my shoulder in worry that he might find me and toss this away.

I'm writing to you because I found the letter you wrote to Master Hyun-Woo. I'm afraid to say it never reached him. While he was in the hospital Master Hyun-Sik came across the letter and saw it was addressed to his brother. He brought it to Hyung-Won's attention and they opened it. Needless to say he tossed it in the trash. I waited until neither of the brothers were around to fish it out and I read everything. Master Hyun-Woo won't be able to read it but I can tell you what's going on.

He's finally out of the hospital. It was a struggle to get him to finally eat - to feed but he's recovered. Somewhat.

He misses you. A lot. You're all he ever thinks about. I've had a private word with him, of course, behind the brothers' backs. He's a shell of his former self but he's surviving because he's holding onto hope that you find him again. I wish I could have given him the letter but I was sold out to Hyung-Won by one of the maids. I kept the envelope it was sent in so I could write to you but the letter was taken from me and burned. It makes Master Hyun-Woo's heart ache knowing he's being kept from you. He's under watch too. Any mail or calls he may receive are going through Hyung-Won. The eldest has grown paranoid. The more his brother wishes for your return the more mistrustful and devious he's become. You must also be wondering why it took so long for me to write to you. Hyung-Won has been on my back more than usual. Ever since he knew I had the letter he changed. He's not himself anymore. He's not the man I once loved.

I'm sorry Y/N. I wish there was more I could say that would bring a smile to your face. Something different that'll make things right again. I don't know how things must be going for you. Is Lord Hoseok treating you well? Are you being ruled over against your will? I don't know what to think but I am worried.

Despite this being my first and last letter I will give you this. My cellphone number. If you're ever given the chance to call me please do. It's 82-

Before you can read the rest of the letter it's snatched from your hand. You jump at the sudden move and turn around to see Hoseok standing behind you. He looks upset as he begins to tear the letter into pieces.

"Hoseok! What are you doing?!"

He says nothing as he tears it apart more before tossing it into the trash. Tears spring forth from your eyes as your mouth hangs ajar in shock.

"Why did you do that?"

Hoseok looks at you and shakes his head. "Enough of that."

Enough of what? Clearly he was reading over your shoulder what Sunmi had to say. It breaks your heart to not know what her number is now.

"I wasn't finished reading it."

"You don't have to know how it ends." He brushes his hair off his forehead. "I shouldn't have let you read it before I did anyway."

You grit your teeth in anger as your nostrils flare.

How could he do this to you? First you find out Hyun-Woo never read your letter and now that Sunmi got in contact with you you're frustrated that you can't respond back somehow. Hoseok's ugly side is starting to show again and you hate the fact that he easily reminds you that you're not here willingly. That you were taken from your home and that he has complete control over you. It makes more tears spring to your eyes but you try your best not to cry.

"Why did you do that," you ask again.

Hoseok has to calm his breathing down now that he's feeling agitated. He tongues his cheek as he places a hand down onto his desk before turning in place to rest his backside against it.

"Y/N," he says before giving a mirthless laugh. "You just don't get it do you?"

You sniffle as you try and prevent yourself from crying. "What don't I get, Hoseok?"

His styled hair is starting to annoy him as he pushes it off his forehead again. "I told you not to take things farther than that letter I sent for you and now your little friend sends you one back with her phone number. After everything she already said about how Hyun-Woo feels about you? You really expect me not to get mad, Y/N?" His voice slowly raises with each question made. "I didn't allow you to write that letter to rekindle anything between you and the people you lost. I did it to shut you up."

Your head jerks back at his final words. Despite the fact that you shouldn't be surprised by this his words do hurt and he can clearly see this because your face crumbles a little.

He closes his eyes with a sigh before looking at you with arms wide open.

"Come here."

Your hands clench into fists with tears ready to fall any second now.

"Y/N," he says.

You shake your head no as you bite your lip hard.

He doesn't give you a chance to fight him any longer though because in one quick movement he walks up to you and holds you tight in his arms. A hand to your lower back and the other on the back of your head. But as if fire had touch you you react and you react violently. Your fists push into his chest as you try and wiggle out of his hold. It just makes him want to keep you closer and with his strength overpowering your own he lets you wear yourself out as you cry out with every fiber of your being.

"No," you cry.

Hoseok's hold on the back of your head lowers down to the back of your neck where he grips you tight. Like a cat grabbing their kitten by the scruff - you stiffen.

You hadn't realized you had closed your eyes but when you open them all you see is a warped image of Hoseok through your blurry tears. You sniffle then hiccup even when he leans in to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he says in a hushed voice.

"No you're not."

You know he's not. He never is.

Despite not wanting to be anywhere near Hoseok you let him hold you. You're upset but you need to ground yourself. It's been a while since he last made you cry and you sure as hell don't miss it.

Your forehead is resting against his collar bone and you breathe when he breathes. Slow. In and out. In and out.

You can't believe everything that has happened so far. This is his first outburst in a while. You guess when you play the part so does he. He's been sweet and doting on you every chance he could get. For a minute there you found yourself just letting things be as they are between you two. Yes you were still hooking up with Namjoon but with you not making any escape attempts it was like you were succumbing to Hoseok's wishes. You can't say if it was a conscious decision or not but you let it happen and now that he's showing his true colors again the need for flight kicks in again.

You squeeze your eyes shut to block these thoughts before it sends your heart rate back up.

Tears that haven't been shed cling to your lashes and you have to wipe them to get the weight off of them. You sniffle as you let Hoseok's hand on your back trail up and down. He's comforting you. You know that but you don't want him to. You're done grounding yourself so you pull back.

He releases his hold on you and tilts his head so he can get a look of your face. His hands come to wipe the streaks left behind by your tears before cupping your cheeks.

"Hey," he says.

You open your eyes and look at him. An unreadable expression is on his face. You feel like things are back to the way it was before. When you couldn't get a read on him. He just stares and stares in silence before sighing.

"I am sorry for hurting you."

Where's the but in this, you think.

"But I'm not sorry for everything else."

There he goes... again.

Something akin to a short bitter laugh leaves you. "Why would you be sorry? You're never wrong."

You know he can tell you're being sarcastic but he doesn't say anything about it.

His thumbs swipe the underside of your eyes a few times to wipe any residual tears. When he's done he releases you before crossing his arms and leaning his weight onto one leg.

He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn't. Instead he bites his bottom lip in silent thought as he looks you over. It makes you cross your arms as well but out of discomfort with your eyes shifting off towards the side.

You're so upset right now. There's a childish side to you that makes you want to stomp your foot. You want to do something that will make him stop staring at you but you don't because there's another side of you that is afraid of the repercussions. It doesn't stop you from running your mouth though.

"Stop staring at me."

There's no response at first and it makes you curious.

You look at him only to see he has a brow raised as he tongues his cheek. The sight of him like this makes you pout a little as you wriggle uncomfortably under his stare.

"Hoseok," you say. Anything to try and get him to stop.

He blinks in what feels like forever before twisting and turning his head as he tries to get his neck to crack. Afterwards, he sighs.

"You really piss me off sometimes." He says these words under his breath but you hear him all the same.

You frown as your arms uncross and wrap around you so you can hug yourself. You seek the comfort in your own arms after his words because he's clearly feeling annoyed with you. It's been a while since he's last expressed himself like this. It's been a while for a lot of things.

Despite being annoyed it doesn't last for long because he uncrosses his arms to draw you in.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. "That was uncalled for."

It was. You have to admit that his words actually hurt you.

He kisses your forehead. "Do you forgive me?"

You doubt you accepting his apology or not will matter to him but you give an answer anyway. Somewhat of an answer as you shrug your shoulders.

You feel the puff of air from his nose brush across your forehead when he sighs.

"You know the things I do for you I do because I'm looking out for you, right?"

From this close when you look up at him you can see the stubble on his chin. It pricks your skin when he pulls you closer to him so he can run his lips over your cheek.

He hums in question when you don't answer. Clearly he's waiting for a response.

You roll your eyes only because he can't see it from this angle. Otherwise you would have kept it to yourself for the sake of not hearing his mouth.

"Y/N?"

You breathe in deeply before releasing it into a sigh. "You have a funny way of showing how you care for me. Ow!" You gasp when you feel him pinch your side.

He huffs a laugh before kissing your cheek. "Watch it."

You have half a mind to pinch him back but you refrain from doing so.

Hoseok seems to be in better spirits now as he pats your butt before separating from you. His smile isn't wide but it reaches his eyes. Not all is forgiven on your end but you realize things can get back to normal or whatever constitutes as such when you don't fight back. It's his preferred way of handling things.

You're still partly stuck on the fact that Hyung-Won and Hyun-Sik are keeping you from contacting their brother. What have you ever done to them for them to dislike you so much? Were you an incompetent maid? Did you not bow to them when prompted to do so? Is your relationship - was your relationship with Hyun-Woo that detestable? You don't know how to feel about it entirely. It hurt when you were banished. It still hurts a little bit but not so much anymore.

There are two taps to your forehead and when you snap back to reality you see that it's Hoseok's forefinger and middle finger.

"You're getting stuck in that pretty head of yours, my love."

"Oh." It's all you can muster up.

He frowns. "Are you still upset with me?"

To be honest, no you're not. Not anymore so you shake your head no.

To this he smiles. "Good. I'd rather we put this behind us. Your past is a past for a reason. Let's keep it that way."

That's another way to sour your mood. He could have chosen better words to end this but he never thinks. It's whatever you guess.

Hoseok wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close to kiss your lips. His hands curl around you until he's cupping your behind and squeezes. You give him a deadly look but he just laughs in response.

He leans back onto his desk but not without keeping you close. His hands move from your ass to your hips slipping his thumbs beneath your shirt so he can massage into your skin. You're trapped between his legs as you toy with the buttons on his shirt.

With it being Fall the weather has cooled down a bit so the air conditioner hasn't been needed. Neither has the heater been needed yet so everyone is stuck in this weird limbo. Right now the air is off and there's only a slight chill that clings to the Autumn air. It's a welcomed chill. One a simple cardigan can be used for.

Hoseok grabs your hand to stop you from pulling his button off and kisses your fingers.

"Is there something on your mind," he asks.

You shrug your shoulders.

"Bored?"

You shrug your shoulders again.

"Well," he starts with a sigh. "We haven't gone out in a while. Is there something you'd like to do?"

You purse your lips for a second. "Don't you have work to do?"

"I do but I can hold it off for right now."

Your eyes shift until you're looking into his own. He smiles when your eyes lock even more so when you look away almost shy like. You're not necessarily shy but when he stares at you like you hung the moon and stars you can't help but to look away.

Hoseok presses his thumb onto your lips as if to wipe something away but you know he does it for other reasons. He just likes the way your lips would often wrap around the digit but with your high not in place you refuse to do it. Doesn't stop him from trying though.

Before either of you can proceed further Hoseok drops his hand and looks towards the door. That's a sign for you to know someone is on their way to you. A second later a knock sounds throughout the room.

"Come in."

The door slowly opens to reveal a familiar face. Taehyung peeks in and smiles when he sees you two. You smile back though it's strained.

"I was looking for you."

You don't know if he meant he was looking for his brother or for you.

Hoseok slithers a hand around your waist so he can turn you around. Your back presses flushed against his front where he wraps his arms around you to keep you close.

"What's up," he asks as he leans his chin on your shoulder.

Taehyung doesn't look the least bit bothered by this show of affection. Instead he just holds the doorknob and rests part of his weight against the door.

"I was wondering if you wanted to head to the stores with me."

Again, you don't know who he's talking to.

"Which store?" Hoseok asks.

"The jewelry store. I want to look for something for Jimin since his birthday is around the corner."

Your brows raise the slightest bit at this revelation.

Jimin's birthday was coming up? You don't know why you never thought of their birthdays. Maybe because Hyun-Woo stopped caring for his own birthday a long time ago so you expected all other vampires to be the same.

"When is his birthday," you ask.

Taehyung smiles. "October 13th."

Today is September 25th so soon.

You pick at your thumb nail as a series of thoughts over take you. Would the family go out of their way to do a big party to celebrate or will it be something simple? Despite not liking him should you get him something? If you do would he like it or would he throw the gift in your face and keep walking? Should you bother to celebrate the day? Would he even bother with your birthday when the time came around? You don't know...

"Y/N?"

You hum questioningly as you come back to your senses. "What happened?"

Hoseok kisses the back or your neck before squeezing you in his arms.

"Do you want to go to the jewelry store with Taehyung?"

You turn your head to look at him. "Are you going?"

Your captor shrugs. "I'll go if you go."

This gives you a chance to leave the house for the first time in a while and you won't be spending alone time with Hoseok. Small wins here so you shrug.

"Sure, I guess."

"Great!" Taehyung clasps his hands together. "Kooky is driving."

"What about the others?" Hoseok asks. "Did you check with them?"

"I did but no one is available and of course I didn't say anything to Jimin since this is a surprise for him."

Hoseok nods. "Okay then. Just give us a minute to get ready, yeah?"

Taehyung looks at you with sparkles in his eyes with that boxy grin of his. "I'll get Jungkook and we'll wait for you in the garage."

Before anymore can be said Taehyung departs leaving the door open to the study wide open.

Holding you close for a bit longer, Hoseok releases you so he can stand up fully.

"I'll be heading up to get my wallet just in case you see something you like." He smiles. "Need anything from upstairs? Come up with me."

You shake your head. "I'll just wait in the garage with the others." A pause. "If that's okay?"

You are forever testing the waters when it comes to this man.

"Of course, baby." He leans over to kiss your forehead. "You know where the garage is. Just be careful."

You know what he means. It's not like he was sending you off towards a pack of hungry wolves but he's always looking out for you. That's just the way he is.

The two of you depart with a kiss to your temple as he heads upstairs to get his things while you slip your cellphone in and out of your pocket - making sure it's still on your person.

Your feet drag against the floors as you casually make your way towards the garage. You're in no hurry despite you knowing you're being waited on. You cross paths with servants that bow in your direction. With servants who will no doubt talk about you behind your back especially when Seokjin asks them to. Well does he ask or does he demand it? You don't know. Either way they communicate at everyone's, especially your, expense.

You pass by them all until you take the familiar hall down past the front door and into the warm garage where you spot Jungkook and Taehyung. They're leaning against a black Hyundai SUV type of car. They aren't talking instead they are both looking at you. It makes you hesitate a moment but Taehyung's warm smile draws you in closer.

To hear something other than your heart beat in your ears you try to strike up a conversation.

"Nice car. Whose is it?"

"Mine." Jungkook says in a flat and disinterested way.

You nod your head awkwardly. "It's nice."

As if to save you from awkwardness of it all Taehyung swoops in.

"Do you like cars, Y/N? Have you ever driven one before?"

You shrug though you're thankful for him. "I'm neither here nor there about them. I've never driven before. I don't even have a license."

Taehyung's brows raise in surprise. You even catch Jungkook's one eyebrow raise in what must be in slight interest.

"No?" Taehyung huffs a laugh.

What he finds funny you don't know but he doesn't elaborate further.

"Maybe some day I can teach you."

It's your brows turn to rise up before you settle for a neutral look. "You don't have to do that. I'm fine without a car."

"But still," he says.

The next voice to speak makes you jump as he creeps up behind you without making a sound.

"I'll teach her one of these days." Hoseok says. "You're free to tag along if you want Tae."

"Nice," the younger vampire says. "For now I call shotgun!"

No one denies the chance he's taken to sit in the front passenger side of the car.

Jungkook, without a word, spins the keys on his finger and moves out of the way so he can step into the driver's side. This will be the first time you're in a car with him that didn't include him also being the passenger. You wonder if he's a safe driver and pray that he is.

Once everyone is settled in the windows are rolled down the slightest bit as music begins to play. Hoseok reaches for your hand that's on your lap and laces your fingers together. He seems relaxed as his brother drives off the premises. It's smooth sailing

for the most part but you notice he doesn't really come to a full stop at stop signs. He just rolls into them like their yield signs before continuing on.

"Do you have in mind what you want to get Jimin?" Hoseok asks for the sake of having a conversation.

Taehyung hums. "There's a matching ring set from Tiffany & Co that caught my attention. I want to see it in person and if it looks as good as it does online then I'll buy him that."

Hoseok hums as well before there's a short pause of silence. "What's gotten into you that you want to celebrate his birthday?"

Taehyung chuckles. "He's been in a bad mood as of late so I think he deserves a little treat."

Your interest is peaked. "Do you guys normally not celebrate your birthdays?"

"Normally no." Hoseok says. "When you have as many as we do you get bored of it."

Just like Hyun-Woo then. It made sense from Taehyung's point of view as to why he wants to celebrate Jimin's though. He wants to give him something that will possibly make him feel a little better despite everything that's happened to make him upset.

"What about you?" Taehyung asks. "Do you celebrate your birthday? When is it?"

"Oh," you say. You shake your head until you realize he can't see you. "No I don't celebrate it. It's in Spring though. May 1st."

"Well that's just sad." You can hear the pout in Taehyung's voice. "You humans don't live for as long as we do so you should celebrate your days."

You shrug your shoulders. "It's nothing special. At least to me it isn't. My birthday I mean."

It's not special to you because it's not your official birthday but the day you were found. That's all.

Taehyung turns in his seat to look at you. He just sits and stares for a minute before turning back to face the front.

"My birthday is December 30th. Hoseok's is February 18th and Jungkook's is September 1st."

Your brows raise in surprise. Jungkook's birthday passed and no one said a word?

"I didn't know Jungkook's birthday was just recent," you say.

Hoseok hums. "And Namjoon's was on the 12th."

Your head snaps towards him before you stare off into the distance.

Namjoon's birthday also passed? You think about what you must have done on the 12th and you think you recall spending time with Namjoon. You didn't do much besides hang out in the library.

Why didn't he tell you about his birthday? You would have done something more for him if you could. He spent his day with you treating it like any other. You have half the mind to text him and grill him about it but you'll wait to talk to him about it another time. When you're in person preferably.

You lick your lips when you finally come back out from inside your head. "When is everyone else's birthdays?"

Hoseok squeezes your hand a little as Taehyung speaks up.

"Yoongi's is March 9th and Seokjin's is December 4th. And like I said before Jimin's is the 13th of October."

You don't know what you'll do with all this information but you guess it's good to know. They don't celebrate their birthdays just like you but in moments like now where Taehyung is taking the chance to celebrate his brother's day by cheering him up - you guess you could do the same if the opportunity ever presented itself to you. Does that mean you plan on getting something for Jimin to get him off your back? No. Absolutely not. It's just a nice thought that you had. That's all. Maybe you'll do something for Namjoon. Gods know he deserves it and more.

The drive is a little ways ahead. Farther than the other places you've been to around here. The place Taehyung is looking for is inside this shopping mall that's brimming with life. There's ways to get inside through all these stores and the one Jungkook chooses to park near is a Macy's. You see plenty of people walking out with bags of jewelry and clothes. High heels clicking against the asphalt outside.

When you're parked you and Taehyung are the first to slip out. It feels good out and you can't help but to stretch in the open air. There's a hand that comes around to grab your own and you already know who it is without even having to look. It brings a smile to Taehyung's face when you look at him and you're reminded of the fact that he's treating you nicely because he's starting to believe you're a good person. That you won't break his big brother's heart.

You can't help but to look away in hopes of getting out of his sight. It's too much for you.

All of you gather together and head towards the Macy's but not without garnering attention here and there. You should be used to it by now but you can't help but to think about that article about you and Hoseok. It makes your stomach turn to the point that you have to rub it to calm it down.

You try your best to ignore the stares. Hoseok and his brothers don't seem bothered by them so you'll try and mimic them.

Despite it feeling good outside the air is on inside the mall. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps as you make your way through.

Taehyung who leads the way doesn't stop for anything. Your eyes roam here and there but nothing really catches your attention either way. You're just happy to be out of the house.

The Tiffancy and Co store isn't far though and sooner rather than later you appear in front of it and with it are a new breed of people. Ones that look down at anyone who walks around them. People who would surely look down on you if it weren't for the fact that Hoseok held on to your hand.

With the appearance of their Lords everyone changes their attitude and looks upon the three men with respect and admiration. There's one girl who keeps flipping her hair over her shoulder as a way to garner Jungkook's attention but the vampire doesn't even bother to look her way. He's more concerned with the jewelry on display.

A woman approaches your group shortly - her hair done up in a tight bun and a smile that screams "look at me."

"What can I do for you gentlemen today," she asks as she gives a small bow.

You're glad she doesn't acknowledge your presence. Your stomach hurts too much to deal with all of this.

Taehyung smiles as he fishes out his phone. "I was wondering if you have these in stock." He swipes his screen a few times before he settles on the image he was looking for. "It's a matching ring set."

Recognition lights the woman's face. "We do actually. Let me grab them for you."

Taehyung follows after her and Jungkook goes off on his own leaving you alone with Hoseok. He smiles down at you before leading you over to the glass cases that house all types of jewelry.

"Anything that catches your attention," he asks.

You're quick to shake your head no when you see the prices of them. It makes Hoseok chuckle.

"Don't worry about the price. Just get what you like. I'll handle the payments."

"Still," you say. "This is too much."

He looks up at you then down to your necklace that you still wear for him. He picks it up with his other hand and smiles at the small lock. Like the image of it amuses him.

"Money isn't a problem with me. So don't worry about it."

Is this his way of saying your necklace costed him a pretty penny? Maybe so but you didn't ask for it. That was all his own doing.

You look back down at the jewelry and just gaze at them unseeing. Shopping for jewelry just isn't your thing. It is for everyone else around you. Especially Jungkook who finds something for Jimin and himself and Taehyung finds the matching rings he saw online. The woman thought he was buying this for an important missus in his life but he was quick to correct her that it was for his brother.

All things seem well until you notice something. Hoseok looks on edge. His grip on your hand tightens as he looks around, but it's not just him. It's Taehyung and Jungkook as well.

"You okay," you ask.

Hoseok looks down at you and gives you a strained smile. "Yeah, baby. Yeah."

After a few moments of silence as the cashier rings up the brothers - Taehyung looks at Hoseok with worry.

"Do you smell it?"

Hoseok hums with a nod.

"Just ignore it." Jungkook says. "We're done here anyway, right?"

You over hear them talking and it makes you nervous. It makes your stomach turn again and this time you think you might throw up.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

All three men look at you as you bring a hand to your stomach.

"Then let's take you to the restroom." Taehyung places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Think you can hold off until we get there?"

You nod before closing your eyes to breathe deeply in and out. Your eyes open when Hoseok moves you but you notice his attention is elsewhere. He's looking over his shoulders like he's worried and all it's doing is making you grow with worry yourself.

You would ask him if he's sure things were okay but you're too nauseous to speak. So much so that when you reach the bathroom door you barrel in and go for the open stall. Your knees buckle as you dry heave but nothing comes out. It's the worst kind of feeling in the world. You think for a brief moment if you should shove your finger down your throat but think against it. If you're going to throw up you will. If you don't then you don't.

You stand to your full height and close your eyes to breathe in and out.

Your stomach still turns but not as bad this time.

"Fuck," you mumble.

You wipe the bit of sweat that formed on your forehead and go to turn around. When you do you jump with a loud gasp but before you can say anything a hand slaps over your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

"Shh!" The woman holding you brings a finger to her lips. "Please don't scream," she says in a hushed voice.

Your heart is beating a mile a minute as your hands shake. Your eyes are wide open and it's then you realize something: her skin is cool against your own. You look down at her lips and wish you could see them. Fangs. Is she a vampire?

You mumble something against her hand but can't make the words out.

"What," she asks.

You raise your hands in surrender and she watches you. Slowly you drop your hands down and with it she removes her own hand.

"I won't scream," you say.

She nods her head a few times. "Okay. Okay good."

You lick your lips as you grab your stomach. You don't have the urge to throw up but your stomach still aches.

You look the woman over a few times before parting your lips to speak.

"Are you a vampire?"

Her brows shoot up in surprise. "Um... um yeah. I am."

You nod.

Despite scaring the shit out of you she looks normal? She doesn't look like a crazed killer you mean. She's dressed beautifully with a beige skirt and lavender blouse. She's a couple inches taller than you in those beige heels that compliments her pale skin. There's no ifs, and, or buts about it she's beautiful. Heart wrenchingly so. Her straight bob moves with every one of her nervous actions. It makes you wonder what she's doing in here with you.

"Can," you start. "Can I know why you snuck up on me like that?"

She winces. "Sorry. I just um..." she looks over her shoulder before looking back at you and whispers. "Can I lock the door?"

Your brows furrow as you frown. "Can I know why?"

She fidgets in her spot. "I just - it's just." She stops to take a deep breath in. "I don't want Hoseok walking in on us."

You freeze.

Did she just say Hoseok? Does she know who he is? How? Who is this woman?

Without a second thought you speak. "Lock the door."

She nods and hurriedly makes her way over and as silently as she can she puts the lock into place.

"I don't have much time," she says as she walks back to you. "My name is Minjeong. Have you heard about me?"

You shake your head. "Sorry no. Should I know about you?"

Minjeong looks down as she sucks her teeth. "I figured he wouldn't say anything about me." She looks back up at you. "Who are you? What's your name? What are you to Hoseok?"

Your eyes open wide at the barrage of questions. "Um, I'm Y/N. I'm no one special just..." What are you to say? You're not Hoseok's girl no matter how much he claims you are. How are you supposed to introduce yourself? "I, uh, I'm Hoseok's... partner. I guess?"

If her skin could grow any paler it does. She looks sick and all it does is make your stomach hurt more.

"I - I'm sorry.," she says.

You shake your head. "For what?"

Her hands come to grab your arms suddenly. "He's not who you think he is. You need to leave him. Now."

Your brows are furrowed. "I can't exactly do that right now."

It's as if she grows to understand your words because she looks at you with pity. It confuses you. Who is this woman? And so you ask.

"I'm Minjeong," she says again. "I'm Hoseok's ex."

Hoseok's ex... And then it hits you. The woman who broke his heart. The one that got away. It's her. Your key to salvation. Is here.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok #yanderebts #btsfanfic #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #reader #fanfic #reader insert

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2023 #3

Hello! I can't believe how quickly we've reached the third list of the year! I wasn't able to read as much as I wanted, but I hope you all enjoy these wonderful fics <3

Namjoon

baby fever @95rkives

summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

drunk in love @joon4eva

summary: you and whiskey are never a good combination. or: you’ve been in love with your best friend for years and you might tell him about it while drunk.

Jimin

menace @eoieopda

summary: Your shithead brother, Seokjin, is throwing his annual Valentine’s Day party. You didn’t want to go in the first place - and now his shithead friend, Jimin, is responsible for getting you there.

all mine @souryoong

summary: your new boyfriend can’t make you finish, but your ex boyfriend sure can.

thank you for your service @jiminniethemarshmallow

summary: As a servant of your kingdom, all Jimin wants to do is please you and service you in any way that he can.

Taehyung

high tide @kookslastbutton

summary: Due to Taehyung’s job as a cruise ship Captain, you are constantly miles away from each other. Weekly phonecalls help and this one gets a little nasty and a lot sweet.

Jungkook

something borrowed @alphabetboyluvr

mafia au

chained to you @hisunshiine

idol au

into the wild @bonny-kookoo

summary: The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later, once he gets hungry for a meal?

seven days @kithtaehyung

summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven.

and my man, thank you to my man @darklingjeon

dealer au

because, i love you ch. 12 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should   be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time   on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks   then.

things you don't know @btsgotjams27

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

Yoongi

heartache @sailoryooons

summary: Unresolved feelings lead to nothing but heartache when you run into Yoongi at a wedding five years after breaking up. Especially when you realize that despite Yoongi have feelings for you, there is still another woman on his arm. 

right here ^

summary: You’re tired of the revolving door of boys in your life. Yoongi is tired of watching you nurse feelings in the quiet of your apartment. 

Taehyung

backstage @jeonqkooks

summary: what’s the best way to release energy for someone with an oral fixation?

champagne problems @still-with-koo

summary: you turn down taehyung’s very public marriage proposal. inspired by champagne problems by taylor swift.

Jungkook

6:42 a.m. @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Jungkook is ready to kick off a new day of loving you.

OT7/Multiple Members

cosmic collision @gimmethatagustd

summary: A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn’t expect is the alien that comes with it.

Seokjin

the one with seokjin and without complaints @eoieopda

summary: you don’t want to arrive dateless to a wedding your ex is also attending. enter friend and local hero, kim seokjin.

musical chairs @ugh-yoongi

rival teachers au

lucky ^

things you said when you were drunk

view @noteguk

summary: in which seokjin likes to show people what is his.

sugar sweet @ditttiii

summary: Jin loves sweet things. Jin loves you. add it all together, stir the mixture up, and ta-da! There he has his dessert! Enjoy ♡ Or alternatively where Jin basically uses you as his damn plate and loves every second of it!

wash 'n dry @seokoloqy

summary: The one where Seokjin is the cute RA who catches you doing laundry at 1 AM and you both have time to kill.

thunder @/ppersonna

summary: you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

Yoongi

angel @/sailoryooons

summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.

carnival of terror @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

crescendo @/ugh-yoongi

established relationship

loose lips ^

friends to lovers

baby maker @shadowkoo

summary: You and Yoongi have been relishing the comfort of your newly married life, savoring each moment together. However, there’s an additional want tugging at your heartstrings – the thought of becoming a mother. That’s right, you want a baby. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready for the journey of bringing a baby into your lives. But he’ll agree to anything that makes you happy, and if it’s a baby you want, it’s a baby you’ll get.

on your period @7ndipity

summary: Yoongi looks after you on your period

don't come yet @jl-micasea-fics

established relationship

night short #25 @euphoricfilter

make up sex

Hoseok

sensuous @delugguk

hot emo hobi @minisugakoobies

i'm yours @yoongiphoria

If you're making a mistake, it's bound to be your favorite one.

bad things come in three @hyungieyoongi

established relationship

hoseok drabble @here4kpopfics

brother's best friend

intoxicated @peachypinkygloss

summary: Drugs make everything better. Even sex.

bones @floralseokjin

summary: you were broken from a past relationship, and Hoseok wanted to fix you, but what price was he willing to pay? Would he end up worse off, or would you realise in time, that your best friend was the one…?

Namjoon

signed, sealed, delivered @fresh-outta-jams

summary: You’re in college when your soulmate tattoo finally shows up: an address. Sending a letter couldn’t hurt, right?

the rich man's crochet club @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When they were freshmen in college, Namjoon began a club with his six closest friends. The one thing they all had in common? V i r g i n s as fuck. Obviously, they couldn’t call the club the Virgins Club and so, the Rich Man’s Crochet Club was born. Until time passes and Namjoon is the only one left. Now, the Club has one, final mission: to get Namjoon laid.

not so dinner date @bangtaninborderland

idol au

breakfast @hamsterclaw

summary: Turns out your big dumb goon can make eggs.

everything slow @hobidreams

summary: your boyfriend catches you missing him with your hand between your legs, his name a moan on your tongue. it looks like you need a little help…

tonight ^

how will you spend the night with your man?

love language @rmnamjoons

summary: Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.

there was a bug @/kimnjss

summary: you and joon have been best friends for years, unexpectedly his feelings start to grow more than platonic. deciding to keep this to him, joon stays as your best friend and roommate. things are going fine, until one night you’re forced to sleep in his room.

out of my league @ppersonna

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

will you let me? @bratkook

summary: Namjoon wants nothing more than to see you stuffed full of his cum, and as his mind starts to wander with thoughts of the future, he has to know if you’d let him.

the package thief @/blog-name-idk

summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he’s hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

#i truly wish i had read more #but life got rocky for a moment #i promise i don't purposely exclude members #i read what's on my dash mostly #and i've been mostly reading drabbles bc i can't focus for very long #i hope you enjoy these fic recs <3

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU ♤ PART 6: HOSEOK

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Red Queen!Hoseok x fem reader

Word count: 4,605

"There she is!" One of the knights shouted.

This caused all three of the boys to fall silent, their argument coming to an immediate stop. Now that you were actually face-to-face with the knights, you could see that they weren't people at all, but cards. The only knight who was a human was standing at the front, donning red armor.

"We're screwed now." Yoongi huffed.

"Yeah. No thanks to you two." Namjoon grumbled.

"Taehyung is the one that started it." Yoongi shot back.

"Silence! All of you!" The knight at the front of the group bellowed. "Y/n L/n, you're coming with us by order of The Red King."

"What if I refuse?" You questioned, putting your hands on your hips defiantly.

"Yeah. What if she doesn't wanna go?" Taehyung stepped forward and mimicked you, mirroring your stance.

"Shut it, you lying rat! What happened to you not knowing about her being here?" The knight snarled.

Taehyung was silent.

The knight in charge walked over and grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back so you couldn't move.

"Let go!" You hissed, jerking your shoulders to try and break free, fighting back against him.

Of course, it was no use.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung tried to go after him, but the card knights quickly intervened and held them in their places, rendering them immobile.

"Don't take them!" You begged. "You're here for me, right? So leave them be."

"Aw. Sacrificing yourself for your friends. How touching." The knight cooed. "Since I know how strongly The Red King feels about you, I'll let them go."

"Thank you." You sighed.

"Y/n, don't be stupid." Namjoon pleaded.

"It'll be okay. I promise." You gave the three of them a reassuring smile despite your insides feeling like they were twisting.

Somehow, you would find a way out of this.

"Let's go." The red knight ordered.

The boys watched helplessly with broken expressions as you were dragged away, but if you being captured saved them, then it would be worth it.

The red knight tossed you up on a horse and sat in front, grabbing the reins. You cooperated and didn't try to escape, knowing that if you did so, it would result in them going after Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung.

After what felt like hours of staring at the scenery that passed while ultimately waiting for your demise, you arrived at a massive castle with lots of red accents and heart shapes in the towering structure. There was something vaguely familiar about it all, but your memories were still too hazy to properly recall anything. You crossed a drawbridge and entered the enclosed courtyard. Red and white rose bushes dotted the land and heart-shaped trees lined the perimeter of the area.

Hearts seem to be a common feature here. You noted.

The information wasn't important, but you'd do anything to keep your mind off what lied ahead.

The horse came to a stop and the red knight dismounted, pulling you back to reality.

"Come with me." He instructed, though he didn't give you time to move on your own accord as he forcefully pulled you off the horse. His hands held your wrists behind your back, keeping them tightly bound while he shoved you inside the towering castle.

As you walked past the entryway and down a hallway, you realized that you were about to meet The Red King face-to-face—and that terrified you. What little you had heard about him was enough to make you anxious. If he sent a giant beast after you, he couldn't be a very nice guy.

You came to a stop at a set of double doors, the sound of hysterical laughter could be heard on the other side. Two servants standing on either side of the doors reached out and opened them.

Inside was a man lounged sideways in an extravagant throne, his legs propped up on the left arm of the chair, his head on the right. He was dressed in a lavish outfit, a velvet red coat that matched the color of his hair and round rimmed sunglasses. There was a person handcuffed and on their knees in front of him. The Red King was laughing like crazy, his cackles echoing around the vast and spacious throne room.

"Tell me another one!" He demanded through raucous laughter.

The person on the floor then told another joke as requested, his form visibly shaking. The smile dropped from The Red King's face and his laughter ceased immediately. He wasted no time swiping a book sitting on a table beside him and throwing it at the man.

"That one wasn't funny!" He shouted.

"S-sorry, y-your highness." The man apologized, covering his head and cowering away from the enraged king.

"Sir." The red knight spoke up, finally announcing his presence.

The king sat up and removed his sunglasses to get a better look at the both of you, a bright smile appearing on his face moments later.

If you didn't know he was absolutely insane, you would say he looked like a sweet guy with that bright smile of his.

"You brought her." He announced happily.

He stopped and looked down at the poor handcuffed man, his whole demeanor changing in an instant, reverting back to that angry attitude he had just a few seconds ago.

"You, get out. Guards! Get this fool out of my sight."

Two guards approached and pulled the man out of the room. The red knight then shoved you forward until you were stood right where the prisoner was just sitting.

"Y/n. My sweet Y/n." The joyous grin that painted his features went away immediately. His demeanor changing once again.

Fear coursed through you the instant his expression fell. The first thought that crossed your mind was that something about your appearance didn't please him. Then again, with the way he reacted about that guy's joke, it could be anything that was bothering him.

You watched with bated breath as his eyes drifted to the red knight gripping tightly to your wrists that were still being held behind your back.

"Let go of her! What are you doing shoving her around like that?" He snapped. "That's no way to treat a lady, especially this one."

The red knight promptly released your hands and stepped away. "My apologizes, your majesty." He bowed. "Just making sure she doesn't escape."

The king shot a glare at the knight before turning to address you.

"Sorry about him." He gently grasped your hand. "He has no morals and apparently doesn't know how to treat a lady either."

"Oh. It's alright." You dismissed, not wanting to stir up something.

Looking at him up close, you could really take in his features. The Red King was stunning. His eyes were bright with an almost cheerful gleam to them and his facial structure was absolutely perfect. Adorning his cheek was a cute little heart, which matched well with all the other heart details scattered about the castle. His red hair was even more lively up close, the color looking much more vibrant than when you were standing farther away.

"Have a seat, my dear." He gestured to an empty spot beside him.

One of his servants standing nearby was quick to pull up a chair for you to sit in. Hesitantly, you lowered yourself into the seat, locking your gaze on your lap where your hands were folded.

"You've grown up so well." He murmured, playing with your hair for a moment. "So beautiful." His fingers left your locks and slowly trailed down your arm to your hand which he took hold of and brought to his lips, placing a kiss to the back of it.

The gesture was sweet, but you had to keep in mind that this man had a temper. It's best to tread lightly and try not to upset him.

"You're acting as if you've just met me." The statement was accompanied by a light chuckle.

"I have." You responded.

He furrowed his brows.

"I don't remember coming here when I was younger. I have no memory of it."

"How is that possible?" He asked the question mostly to himself, looking extremely worried before quickly collecting himself. "No matter." He smiled, brushing it off.

"So, what's your name? I'd rather not call you The Red King."

"Ah, yes. I'm Hoseok."

You repeated his name quietly to yourself.

"It sounds so lovely when you say it."

His eyes drifted down to your attire.

"Oh goodness. Your clothes are a mess. I'll get you new ones immediately. He turned to a nearby servant, snapping his fingers. "Go get my tailors and bring them here to me."

"Yes, your majesty." The servant nodded before walking off.

Moments later, two people, who you assumed were the tailors, came scurrying into the throne room.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Get my dear Y/n some fresh clothes please. Make her something pretty."

"Yes, your highness." They bowed.

Hoseok leaned over. "I have the best tailors in the whole kingdom. You're in good hands."

They wasted no time getting your measurements, pulling your arms out at your sides to get the length of each one, both of them working again once, measuring different parts of you.

Just as soon as they were done, Hoseok made them leave, shooing them out while telling them to hurry and make it snappy.

The atmosphere was tense as you sat in silence with Hoseok. As much as you wanted to strike up a conversation to kill the suffocatingly anxious energy in the air, you couldn't, keeping your mouth shut in fear of saying the wrong thing. The last thing you wanted to do was set off Hoseok's temper and make him upset.

Much to your relief, one of the tailors came walking into the room, putting an end to your worrisome emotions. With him, he carried a red box holding your new outfit.

"We're finished with her dress your majesty."

Dress?

You assumed you'd be receiving comfortable, regular clothes. Then again, you were in a castle with a king, so maybe you should've expected it.

"Let's see what it looks like." Hoseok gestured for the man to open the box.

He pulled off the lid, revealing a beautiful dress with black and red accents and small hearts adorning the fabric. Even though it was folded up, it was clear that the dress was designed very well. You couldn't believe an entire garment was created in such a short amount of time.

The audible gasp you let out once your eyes landed on the stunning dress echoed in the vast room due to all the empty space as you leaned forward to get a closer look.

"She doesn't like it. You imbecile!" Hoseok hissed. "She hates it! Take it back! Go make another one." He demanded harshly.

"No! I do like it. I like it a lot."

"You do? If you don't, they'll make another one. They won't stop until you have a dress that is to your satisfaction."

"No, no. I love this dress." You assured. "You and the other tailor did an incredible job. I'm beyond impressed." You praised the designer on his impeccable work.

"Thank you, Miss Y/n." He bowed.

"Follow him and he'll take you somewhere to get changed." Hoseok gestured.

The muted sound of your footsteps overlapping with those of the tailor echoed faintly as you made your exit, trailing behind the man as the large throne room doors were pulled shut behind you. It was only then that you spoke up, knowing Hoseok wouldn't be able to hear.

"I'm sorry if this sounds forward, but how can you stand him?"

"Oh. I'm not sure I can answer that, Miss." He responded, hesitancy lacing his tone.

"Of course you can. He can't hear you."

"Well..." He glanced back toward the closed throne room doors which you were quite a distance away from. "Truth be told, I can't stand him at all. He's so demanding and his mood changes just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Being around him is like walking on eggshells."

"Hm." You hummed, nodding softly. "I may have only been around him for a short time, but I can definitely see that he's a temperamental person. I think if he didn't lose his cool so easily, he'd be a nice guy."

"I believe you're correct, Miss Y/n." The tailor nodded in agreement. "You know, I've seen glimpses of someone kinder—different. Though before I can properly process it, that hardness in the king's eyes always comes right back."

This tidbit of information had your brows tugging together in both perplexmxent and intrigue.

The tailor brought you to a room where you were able to change into the wonderfully-made garment. Pulling the dress from the box, you took a moment to admire it once again, properly taking in all the intricate details of it. Those tailors don't mess around.

Removing your dirty clothes, you discarded them, trading the stained garments for the dress.

Turning to a large mirror on the wall in the small room, you took in your appearance. A soft smile painted your features as your palms ran down the skirt of the dress. You felt like royalty. Glancing back to the dress box, you spotted a pair of shoes sitting in the bottom. They were off-white heels with a metallic red heart on the tops. You slipped them onto your feet, taking a moment to admire them before exiting the room.

Hoseok's servant let out a gasp almost as soon as you stepped into the hall.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. The dress looks wonderful."

"Thank you." You grinned, swishing the skirt around.

It was then that you noticed Hoseok's servant from the throne room standing by the tailor.

"The king requests that you get your hair and makeup done. Immediately." He announced.

"What?"

"This way." The servant took your hand and began guiding you down the corridor.

Throwing a quick wave to the tailor, you told him to thank the other one for helping with the dress just before you were pulled around a corner.

The servant took you to a different room where four female servants were waiting. The group of women were quick to pull you over and sit you down in a chair, getting to work immediately.

Nearly half an hour later, the ladies stepped away and let you get a look at yourself.

You jumped back from your reflection, your mouth hanging agape in surprise. You didn't look like yourself at all, but not in a bad way. Your hair was styled beautifully, not a strand or piece of hair out of place. You gasped softly when you noticed a few red strands of scarlet hair mixed with your natural locks.

"Don't worry, Miss. they're just extensions." One of the servants reassured you.

Your makeup was very different. On your eyelids was a mix of red and black eyeshadow. The red covered the expanse of your lid while the black served as a Smokey transition color for the crease. Your lips sported a dark red color and adoring your right cheekbone was a tiny heart just like the one on Hoseok's face.

"You must go back to the king now. He'll get impatient." One of the ladies urged, rushing you out of the room, hardly giving you any time to thank them for their work.

Stumbling out into the hallway, you spotted the same servant from earlier sitting in a chair in the corridor. When he noticed your presence, he immediately got to his feet and escorted you back to Hoseok.

When the giant double doors to the royal chamber opened, Hoseok was sitting on his throne with a glass of wine in his hand, swirling his finger around the rim in boredom. When he saw you enter, he set the glass aside and stood up, a look of awe flashing across his features.

"Y/n. You look magnificent." He breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

The servant was quick to step away, leaving both you and Hoseok alone.

"Come here, Y/n." Hoseok grinned warmly, extending his hand.

You slowly proceeded forward, your heels clicking against the black and white checkered floor as you made your way towards the handsome yet temperamental man.

Once you were close enough, he took your hand in his, holding it in the most gentle manner.

"Would you like a tour of the castle?"

"I would."

"I was hoping you'd say that." He gleamed, leading you out of the royal chamber. "I'm so excited to show you around."

As soon as the two of you stepped foot in the hallway, Hoseok's bright expression fell into one that was more serious since he was passing the guards that stood outside the throne room. You took notice of his instant attitude change and became curious.

Was he embarrassed to show happiness around the guards and castle staff?

"This way, my sweet." He spoke, pulling you from your thoughts while guiding you down a hallway that went to the right.

You should be scared. You had been captured, but it didn't feel like it. You expected to be tossed into a dungeon or fed to that bandersnatch thing from earlier, yet here you are getting a personal tour from the king himself, wearing a beautiful dress that was created just for you. Besides his sudden mood changes, Hoseok didn't exactly seem like a bad guy, especially when the both of you were alone. Those glimpses the tailor spoke of that he had seen of a kinder Hoseok came to mind and had you wondering if maybe he was seeing the king's true personality.

Hoseok showed you the kitchen which was spacious and equipped with every appliance anyone could ever need. He showed you a common room, an office, a library, and a few other rooms around the castle.

"What do you think so far?" He inquired.

"It's lovely. Very extravagant too. I've never been in a castle before, so this is all new to me."

"In that case, it's an honor to be able to show you around. Now, there's one more room I have to show you."

Hoseok guided you down the seemingly endless hallway until the both of you arrived at a huge door. He pushed it opened, revealing a stunning room with a king-sized bed, a round gold-rimmed mirror and a heart-shaped chair sitting in the corner.

"These are my sleeping quarters, but this isn't the place I wanted to show you. This way."

He brought you over to a set of glass double doors that led to a balcony. Using both hands, he pulled the doors open and stepped outside, you following behind him.

"This is what I wanted to show you."

A gasp of awe escaped your mouth when your eyes beheld the sight before you. Approaching the end of the spacious balcony, you stood at the railing, gazing out at the huge enclosed courtyard and all the greenery that dotted the land. In the distance were hills and hills of the familiar mushrooms, spindly trees, and curly plants that were a consistent sight in Wonderland.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"It's breathtaking."

"It is. I like to come up here to calm down when things get to be... too much. Coming out here at night is also quite a treat. Seeing the sky dotted with twinkling stars could take anyone's mind off whatever is troubling them."

"Sounds like an ideal way to de-stress." You commented, staring up at the blue sky, imagining the expanse of atmosphere cloaked in stars.

Hoseok's gaze moved down to the lawn below and frowned in displeasure.

Idiots." He snarled.

"What's wrong?"

"They planted white roses when I specifically told them red."

"You could just paint the roses red." You suggested absentmindedly, glancing down at the rows of blooms.

Hoseok turned to  you, a look of surprise flashing across his face.

"What?" You questioned.

"That's exactly what you said last time you were here."

"I did?"

He nodded.

You cast your gaze out at the scenery, your mind beginning to wander once again.

For the life of you, you couldn't recall any memories of visiting this place. However, there was some part of your mind that held those forgotten moments of your childhood. Earlier you had called Taehyung by his nickname and you just repeated something that you said when you were younger, so whatever memories you had were tucked away somewhere in the recesses of your mind. You just needed something to trigger them.

Heoseok had hearts everywhere: heart-shaped trees in the courtyard, hearts on the walkway stones, heart-shaped chairs and door handles—they were everywhere.

A name suddenly popped into your head. Something from deep within your memory that spilled from your lips before you could stop it.

"King of Hearts."

"What did you say?" Hoseok's eyes were trained on your face.

"King of Hearts. Isn't that what people call you?"

"Well, yes but it's mostly just The Red King now. I haven't been called The King of Hearts since you were here."

"I remember calling you that."

"You do?"

"Yes. I do."

His face lit up like how you imagined the stars in the sky were at night. A gentle breeze blew by and a silence fell over the both of you, but not an awkward one like earlier in the throne room. This one was a comfortable silence and one that lasted for at least a minute until a question that had been gnawing at your curiosity finally broke free.

"Why are you the way you are?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You lose your temper easily and lash out at people for the smallest thing, but you're so kind to me. Why is that?"

"I guess you just bring out the best in me."

"I'm not sure that's the truth."

Hoseok chuckled dryly. "You're sharp."

"I notice how your mood changes around your servants and guards. You put on an act."

"I guess... I want them to know I'm to be feared."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"I'm not a bad person, Y/n. I wasn't always this way, you know. Things were different."

"How did you used to be?"

"How I am around you. Happy and silly."

"It seems to me you're still that way."

He shrugged his shoulders again.

"What made you change?"

"My friend, Jin."

You recalled Yoongi saying that name earlier.

"The two of us were best friends, but after we became friends with Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin they started to take him away from me."

"How so?"

"They wanted to hang out with him rather than me. Jin is a social butterfly and was always spending time with them. If I were to hang out with all six of them they'd ignore me."

"I bet you felt really isolated."

"I did." He nodded. "One day I lost it and lashed out at all of them. I built this castle far away from everyone and secluded myself."

"I'm sorry." You frowned, placing your hand on top of his.

"It's okay." He mumbled.

"Don't you get lonely out here?"

"Yes but that's why you're here."

"To do what?"

"To be with me, keep me company."

"I—"

"You don't have to say anything." He caressed your cheek with his thumb, slowly leaning in.

Before you could even register your own actions, your hand moved on its own, stopping Hoseok's lips from touching yours.

He pulled away with a frown. "What's wrong?"

He brushed your hair away, stopping when he saw a faint pink spot on your neck.

His gentle expression dropped immediately.

"Who placed their filthy lips on you?"

Every part of your body went numb.

"No one." You lied, not wanting to throw Jungkook under the bus.

"I was under the impression that my guards found you before you had the chance to meet any of the others." His tone was becoming sharper by the second. "How many of them did you meet?"

Your foot moved back as you stepped away to put some space between the both of you, opting to keep your mouth shut. Hoseok grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward.

"Which one of those idiots kissed you? Whose filthy lips touched my sweet Y/n's?" He growled angrily.

"Please calm down." You tried to pull your wrist away only for his grip to tighten. "That hurts. Please stop."

The rage that burned behind his brown irises was evident and had you shaken to the core. The need to get out of there was overwhelming and your fight or flight instincts were beginning to kick in. During your panic, you somehow managed to pry Hoseok's hand off your wrist and as soon as you were free, you took off.

"Y/n!" Hoseok yelled.

You didn't bother looking back as you dashed down the hallways, trying to get away from the enraged king.

"Get Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin. Every single one! Off with their heads! All of them!" Hoseok barked orders at his men. "Get the knights and bring my sweet Y/n back to me!"

He didn't know who had kissed you or how many, and it didn't matter. The completion needed to be eliminated.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you scurried down a large staircase and out the huge heart-shaped entrance. The sound of marching echoed from from somewhere inside the castle. The fear of what Hoseok might do to you if he caught you caused your legs to move faster, trepidation being the only thing fueling you. By the time you made it out of the massive structure, the marching of the knights had moved to the enclosed courtyard. Knowing there wasn't many places to hide, you just ran, moving as fast as you could, ignoring the way the tall grass stung your legs as they whipped past.

You kept going until you could no longer see Hoseok's castle. At that point, your chest had begun to ache and you were having trouble breathing, so you resorted to walking.

Realization dawned on you, hitting you like a violent wave. You left Hoseok. He opened up to you about being abandoned and left out in the past and here you are doing the exact same thing to him. You're no better than the others.

Then again, he was terrifying and there was no telling telling what he would have done if he caught you, especially after you ran off the way you did. He could lock you in a cell and imprison you or hold you captive in his castle and force you to be his lover.

Lifting your gaze to what was ahead, you noticed a familiar clearing in the lush greenery.

Namjoon's chair sat in the grass with his hookah sitting idly next to it, both of them abandoned.

"No. No." You murmured, your voice slowly rising. "Namjoon?"

Your head turned in different directions, frantically scanning the area for any sign of him as you called his name over and over.

He's gone. He's not here.

Without thinking twice, you broke into a sprint and began darting through the abrasive, scraggly trees and overgrown plants.

As you made your hasty exit, your foot got caught on a tree root, propelling you forward. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, yet you were unable to catch yourself.

By the time you collided with the ground, everything went black.

➯ Part 7: Jin

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Seducing the Villain 1

▫  Pairing [Villain!Taehyung x Reader x Noble!BTS] ▫  Genre [Historical Drama, Fantasy, Reincarnation Au, Romance, Smut, Angst, Royal Au] ▫  Summary [Sweat is beading on your hairline as you're face to face with the crown prince and this novel's villain. The main character will order your execution just before the novel ends because of her association with the anti-king faction. You're royally screwed. You need to survive. But how can you do that in a small character's skin? If you think about it there wasn't a heroine in this story, to begin with, because the genre of the story was a- tragedy?!] ▫  Warnings [none] ▫  Rating [+16] ▫  Word Count [5k+] A/N Lately I've been obsessed with the anime called I'm the villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss so this is a story I came up with. There will be more parts to come so please anticipate my return dear readers! 

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Next⇢ Seducing the Villain 2

Your fingers touch the smooth skin under your eye with unfamiliarity. It can't be you. It's impossible. Your complexion embodied through the mirror is looking back at you as white as a sheet. As if you're seeing a ghost in the reflection. This girl has fair skin with lovely facial features: in other words, she does not resemble you at all. "No way! This can't be happening right?"

"My lady are you alright? We heard a scream." A woman in her late 20s comes in running while wearing a victorian maid dress. She looks you over from head to toe trying to figure out the exact spot that you've been hurting and if you look past the lady you see two more maids waiting in line a few steps behind for instructions. 

It isn't been long ago since you woke up in this weird place. You found yourself so caught up by your appearance that you ignored the gnawing feeling that this face of yours seem familiar somehow. Your button nose is scrunched up in a frown as you try to make the puzzle pieces fit. The longer you stare at your reflection in the mirror the clearer the features you resemble make you think of someone that you read about in a novel. You don't remember much since you read it when you were younger but these long crimson locks framing your face paired with eyes that shine emerald makes you think of a small side character from the novel. What was her name again?

"Y/N." You turn around when you hear that name called out. That's it! Now you remember her. She was just a small character in the novel with not many lines except- Oh no! 

You're met with deep green eyes resembling yours. 

"Y-Yoongi." His name just slips out between your lips. You know who this is. It's Y/N's brother Yoongi and the advisor of the king. Yoongi frowns when he sees you still in your sleepwear. His strides are elegant and you've become almost mesmerized by his beauty until he's standing so close to you. 

"Why is she not ready yet?" The coldness in his voice is unmistakable as he addresses your maids, his piercing eyes turned away from you but you shiver all the same from its effects. 

"Please forgive us we will get the princess ready right away." You're whiskered away in the bathroom right after where you're bathed in scented oils and scrubbed to perfection. Your cheeks were red the whole time due to embarrassment. No one bathed you before and the prospect of being naked while others were in the room even if they were your servants makes you blush. The dressing was another feat as well. The many layers and ribbons made you suffocate. You managed to order them to give you a simpler dress so you could breathe easier. They looked at you weirdly for the request but your head is already filled with so many things to think about that you dismissed the stares of surprise on their faces. 

In the end, you were led to a room with luxurious furniture. You didn't question the maid when she told you his highness will come to see you shortly because you were glad to be alone with your thoughts for a little. You've been trying to recall as much as you could from the novel that you read but it seems like it's been too long for you to remember anything besides the main plot. 

It was a light novel containing only 60 pages or so and you clearly remember the main character to be prince Taehyung who gets to the throne early because of his father's assassination. In the palace, Taehyung had many enemies because he tried to dismiss the council of nobles to be the sole ruler of Eradian. 

"Are you alright princess?" You didn't realise someone has been calling you for a while until they are right in front of you. His dark eyes are making you look down at the hands you have fisted on top of your knees. He asked you if you were alright however there's not even a light of concern for you in his eyes. 

"I- I'm sorry it was not my intention to ignore you, your highness." Sweat is beading on your hairline as you're face to face with the crown prince and this novel's villain. The main character will order your execution just before the novel ends because of her association with the anti-king faction. You're royally screwed. 

"This is not an answer to my question princess." He has such an innocent expression on but for some reason you can't help but tense up under his searching gaze. He's even more handsome than you imagined while reading. A man this handsome shouldn't be so cruel. 

"I'm alright. Thank you for your concern, your highness." Your smile is forced to the point of the corner of your lips starting to quiver but the prince thankfully lets it slide. You're sure he could tell that something is different about you. No wonder since if you were following the plot you would be head over heels for him doing anything and everything in your power to make him fall in love with you all the while ignoring the darkness in his gaze. Good thing that you're not Y/N. The only reason he let her stay by his side in the novel and endures her presence is because he needs her brother to be his advisor once he's appointed as the new king and despite his cold exterior Yoongi loves his sister dearly. In the novel prince Taehyung let her believe that she has a chance but in his head, he thought that the girl following her around was utterly pathetic, to begin with. You're actually feeling sad for this side character. 

"I'm sure you must be busy I hope I'm not taking up so much of your time." Whilst you're smiling you're thinking of different matters. You hope he leaves soon. You have no idea how you should act in front of the crown prince. You might have watched a lot of old-school dramas but your knowledge of this time period is very limited. You should visit the library after you get out of here to study the customs so you're not too out of place here. 

"Are you sure you're alright, princess? You seem a bit different." You're too surprised to reply when the prince places a lock of hair behind your ears. He's too close. His breath is fanning across your face but you're able to detect the mirth in his gaze. He's just playing with you.

"I- maybe I'm a bit tired I couldn't sleep so well last night. Haha." You press your back desperately against the back of the seat to get away from the prince's alluring presence. You're rightfully terrified to be so close to him knowing what he's capable of. 

The prince was about to say something when a knock was delivered on the door. Taehyung stood up from his position and walked over to the seat he previously occupied facing you before he let anyone in. You're relieved that it was Yoongi who interrupted your time with the prince. You have to think of a plan while you're at it for how to deal with the prince and avoid your inevitable doom in this world. 

"I apologise for the interruption but the king is requesting your presence, your highness." Taehyung doesn't take his eyes off you even in your brother's presence. The three of you remain silent for a few passing minutes before the crown prince takes the first step. There's something changing in his expression when you shy away from his gaze as he gives your hand a goodbye kiss before he exits the room followed by a few guards who have been stationed in front of the door for the safety of the prince. 

You slump against the chair once he's gone and you let out a sigh of relief. Phew, that was a close call. You have to be more careful around him as you have no idea what he's thinking about. He might be already plotting your death for all you know. 

"Brother could you perhaps direct me to the palace library?" You straighten out the invisible wrinkles on your dress with a determined expression on your face. Yoongi thinks that you've been acting weird since you woke up this morning but now he's sure something is up with you. First, you request a simple dress when you know you're about to see the crown prince which is unlike you. You've been trying to win prince Taehyung's heart since you made your debut in society. Also, the girl who never held a book in her hand in her whole life requests to go to the library all of a sudden. 

"W-What are you doing?" You let out a squeak when Yoongi places a palm on your forehead delicately combing your hair to the side. 

"Hm, it doesn't seem like you have a fever." Yoongi is mumbling disregarding your questioning gaze as he pins you down with a worried look that makes your heart melt a little. 

"You don't have to worry brother I'll save us!" You grab his hand and place it over your cheek to nuzzle into with a big grin. "Now tell me where I can find the library!" You pull him by the hand out of the door surprising the guards for a moment but they follow behind you without saying a word. Yoongi's confused pout is adorable but fortunately, he lets your weird behaviour alone for now and shows you the way. On your way, he shakes your hand off and places it at the small of your back to guide you. You didn't find it weird but it seems like it's unusual for family members to hold each other's hands- noted. His duties soon called him so you were left alone with two guards in the library. You were able to find a pen and some paper so you started to make a plan for yourself. 

You try to jot down everything you remember from the novel and try to make a backup plan so you're not executed in the end. A shiver runs down your spine as you think about that possibility. Let's gather what you know.

1) The king will be murdered sometime soon as Taehyung became the king quite early in the novel.

2) Min Y/N the useless daughter of a small noble family whose body you took over, has a brother Yoongi who is good at everything so he's been recognised by the king and asked to be his advisor despite he's only turning 30 soon. 

3) The main character prince Taehyung. Despite his boxy smile and friendly appearance, he's been a real devil child ever since he was young he developed this obsession with becoming the king but even at the end of the novel his true intentions were not revealed.

You need to think this through rationally. You can't prevent the king from getting murdered. You don't remember when it will happen for you to make a plan and if you mention it to anyone they will just think that you're crazy or worse- if the king truly dies they will think you had something to do with it! You can't possibly let that happen.

Maybe you should just focus on Y/N for now until you're able to grasp the current flow of the plot. 

The best way for you to prevent your death is to minimize your contact with the crown prince as much as you can and when the time comes that the anti-king faction asks for your help you decline their offer and find a way to get out of the palace with Yoongi before Taehyung becomes a tyrant and burns this entire place down. But how can you do that in a small character's skin? If you think about it there wasn't a heroine in this story, to begin with, because the genre of the story was a- tragedy?! There are so many books that you read why it had to be this one without a female lead? You bump your forehead on the desk as you think of your impending death. Dark clouds loom over your head as you can't think of anything to help you survive being teleported into this novel. Maybe some fresh air would do you some good. You walk to the tall windows and manage to open one. It's windier than you expected as your hair runs wild with the invisible caress of the wind obscuring your view until you can get a few stray strands behind your ears.

You can see the entire garden from up here, it's so beautiful. You remember Taehyung's late mother liked the garden so much that she planned most of it herself. The gazebos and the flower arrangements are well taken care of even a new tea party set has been planted recently with tables and shades. No one knows that it's Taehyung who manages the garden now, it makes him feel closer to her. Even if you know that Taehyung is evil you can't help but feel sympathy for him in a way. He did have a rough life from the beginning. In the novel, he came to the garden a lot to think. It was a safe space for him. For some reason you remember what your mother used to say to you. No one becomes a villain unless someone steals their happy ending. 

"Right!" A light bulb suddenly appears as the gears in your head keep turning as you think. All you have to do is just not let Taehyung turn into a villain so he has no reason to execute you! You need to make another plan. First, you need to write down everything that later becomes Taehyung's undoing and then- "Princess!" You hear someone shouting but it's too late by the time you realise what's happening. The heel of your shoe breaks off and you nearly fall out the open window if it weren't for someone catching you at the last minute. "Princess are you alright?!" Your heart is hammering away in your chest as you cling to the person holding you. When you look up to meet the eye of your lifesaver you see warm chocolate brown. Huh. You didn't think you will see such important people in the novel on the same day you woke up in this world. Those brown eyes and boyish features couldn't belong to anyone but Taehyung's royal knight Jeongguk the crown prince's first and foremost supporter. He will meet his fate at the hands of Taehyung just like you if you don't do something to change this novel's tragic ending. 

"Thank you sir Jeongguk, it could have ended badly if it weren't for you." Huh. You can't believe you almost died because of a stupid heel. Wait. You do remember this!

Y/N in the novel tried to win Taehyung's heart with different schemes and one of them was that she tempered with her own shoes to fall hoping that the crown prince will catch him and suddenly fall in love with her while holding her in his arms. It's so stupid that you actually laughed when it happened! It must be because you cut the meeting short with him that it suddenly broke when you were in the library instead. 

You tried to get on your two feet with the help of Jeongguk but you wobbled as soon as you put weight on them. That's just great. How will you carry out your plan if you can't even walk because you sprained your ankle from such a small accident? This is ridiculous!

"Could you perhaps assist me until we reach my room sir Jeongguk? I don't think I will be able to walk like this." You're so embarrassed to make this request that you can't even look him in the eye. How can you be so unlucky already?!

"Please forgive me, princess." You're confused why he's apologising until he slides a hand under your knee and picks you up. You cling to his neck like a monkey as he carries you through the palace the maids whispering behind your back as you pass them. This will surely cause a scandal. How inconvenient. 

"Jeongguk what happened?" That voice. The crown prince?! You unconsciously tighten your hold on the knight's shoulder before you meet the prince's intense gaze. 

"Y-Your grace! The shoe of the princess broke so I'm helping her to her room to rest." You can feel how rigid every muscle in the knight's body becomes after meeting the gaze of his master. You're fearful to ask but: can this be any worse?!

"I'll take her, hand over the princess Jeongguk." No! This is way worse! You don't want to let go of Jeongguk but a crowd already gathered around you it would look bad if you refuse since you're supposed to be in love with the prince. 

"It was just a tiny fall your highness I'm f-fine." Everyone is looking at you. Without thinking you bury your red face into the shoulder of the crown prince once he receives you from Jeongguk. 

"Can we go, please? I don't like everyone looking at us-" You lower your voice so only he can hear you and your eyes meet for a split second before you wrap your arms around him tighter. You can't believe you're at the mercy of the villain. You're really doomed. 

"Return to your duties if you don't want to get fired." You know he's talking to the servants but a shiver runs down your spine all the same from his cold tone. This is what the real Taehyung is like. The Y/N in the novel doesn't witness it until way later and by the time she realises his true nature, it becomes her downfall. Will you be able to prevent your own death?

You're uncertain but you let the rhythmic footsteps of Taehyung carry you soothe your wildly beating heart. 

"I can walk on my own. I'm really fine y-." "You expressed your distaste for using titles before between us but you've been overly polite today. You've been avoiding me too. What do you seek with this sudden change of heart? Think I will fall for you if you try to play hard to get?" Your chin is dragged down the floor behind you. He always kept his composure around her in the past. Let her ignorance be the downfall of her so why he's questioning her so soon? 

"That's not it." Your arms loosen around his neck simply trying to get as far as possible from him in spite of your current position. 

"I just realised how annoying I must have been with my persistence so I decided to give your highness some space and think deeply about my actions." That's right! This way you can avoid him without being weird and maybe he will change his perception of you a little. The first step you have to take is to be more friendly with the prince but he has his guard high up because of the previous Y/N's actions so you need to work on that before anything else!

The way he narrows his eyes at you makes you believe that he doesn't buy your words at all but has nothing else left to say. Good because you don't think you can come up with any more.

He silently takes you the rest of the way to your room and you breath a sigh of relief when he leaves like that. You bury your hands into your palm as you remember the warmth of his body so close to you. He smelled so nice too. You curse yourself for thinking that it's really not the time to think about how handsome he was up close.

Thankfully the doctor said that your ankle is fine just a bit swollen from the unfortunate angle of your fall. You remained inside your room for two days to rest and to plan what to do next. It seems like your little chat with Taehyung turned out to be effective as he didn't even care enough to see how you were doing. Yoongi is the only one who frequented your room regularly and bought you the books you wanted. He found your interests unusual but shrugged them off quickly. He really is a good brother to you and you don't want him to die either. You will have to work hard to keep everything peaceful for a long time. 

"How's your ankle?" You take the book carefully from him with a smile. 

"I'm perfectly fine! See." You rotate your ankle in every direction to prove your point but it doesn't seem to ease the tension from his face. There are clear signs that he hasn't gotten any sleep lately. He's been probably busy due to the crown prince's birthday ball. You noticed how lively things are outside even though you're momentarily confined in your own room for the last couple of days, everyone is running about making sure they can finish their errands before the weekends. You overheard some of the maids talking about prince Taehyung's upcoming birthday and that the guest list is full of noble women who will try to win him over to become the crown princess. 

Their gossip gave you a good idea though how can you become closer to Taehyung. It might even work in your favour. 

"What are you laughing about under your nose?" Yoongi pokes your forehead to get your feet back on the ground and your head out of the clouds. It seems like lately that you've been thinking too hard about something that he can't quite grasp. He won't admit it but this change in your behaviour is welcomed as you're easier to deal with without you making tantrums or babbling about Taehyung and which dress his highness would prefer. He didn't see you circling around Taehyung for a while either which is out of character for you. 

"I want to write a letter to his highness later would you be so precious as to deliver it for me, my dear brother?" Your eyes are shining with mischievous mirth, now this would be a waste if you don't try to strike a deal with Taehyung. 

"I was under the impression that you're no longer interested in him but I guess I was wrong." You catch the hand that caresses the top of your hair to glare at your brother.

"I don't like him like that anymore so you don't have to worry. I just want to live with my brother forever." You let go with a beaming smile as it makes a frown appear on his.

"What? You don't want to be with me?" Yoongi sighs as he couldn't say no to that pout of yours. 

"Of course, I would like that. It's just I don't understand your suddenly changed behaviour lately. Are you sure you're alright?" Who would guess that he will be a cold-hearted minister in the eyes of many later on? He's really soft for his sister. 

"I would appreciate it if everyone stopped asking me that. I'm fine so stop worrying."

You exchange a few more words before Yoongi has to go. You're worried about him, he's been pushing himself lately to attend to his duties but still makes the time to visit you.

You might as well offer your help later but for now, you have an important letter to write.

***

You choose today's dress carefully hoping to meet Taehyung. Yoongi delivered your letter but he didn't request a meeting with you yet which is concerning. You really thought that this plan might work on him. You're relieved to finally get out of your room though but there's still not much for you to do in the palace.

The library is full of military books which is not your preferred genre but better than nothing. You would give your arm for a romance novel right about now. 

"This is so boring." You sigh with a book on your lap. You don't realise someone was watching you from the shadows until you hear his approaching footsteps. The book lands on the floor as you straighten your spine at the appearance of the crown prince himself. You observe him with curious eyes as he bends down and picks up the book for you. He angles it to be able to read the title. "The art of war."

"Your highness I assume you read my letter." You don't try to fool him with a fake smile as you know he wouldn't buy it so you just look at him as you normally would. You need to change your approach if you want him to consider your deal. You accept the book from his hands but you didn't expect him to sit so close to you. You scoot to the edge of the sofa to regain some space before you turn to him. 

"I did." He's not going to help you at all huh? He will probably let you guide the conversation so he could make you uncomfortable by trying to figure out the right words to say. 

"So-"

"What makes you think I will believe your words? How could I believe you're no longer interested in me when you've been following me around persisting to give you a chance all this time?" You inaudibly gulp from his threatening aura getting so close to you. 

Taehyung forces you by grabbing your chin to look into his eyes even when his lips are just by a hair's breadth distance from each other he seems perfectly collected. Your back is pushed against the armrest whilst his chest is flush against yours from the proximity. 

"Even if you don't believe me your highness I'm your best option." You won't let him make your complexion waver. That's what he wants. You just need to hold your ground against him to convince the prince. 

"How so?" Taehyung acts like he's not affected by you at all but you know it can't be completely true. You're a beautiful woman even the crown prince needs to acknowledge this fact about you. You place your palms against his chest to gain some breathing space but you're not pushing him away as he expected. 

"Last month someone put poison in your tea. I know who it was." Taehyung's eyebrows furrow in an agitated frown and his cold hand wraps around your delicate neck in a warning but you continue pushing forward. 

"That person will attend your birthday party. I can tell you who it is then but I will need permission to use your garden so I can gather the evidence first." While you were talking calmly his thumb found your pulse point, he was checking for lies. The little spikes in your heartbeat would indicate you're not truthful. What a sly fox.

"If this is another scheme to win my heart you're more foolish than I thought." You grab his clothes before he could get up but it just made your bodies mould together even more as you pulled him in. 

"I'm not doing this for your affection your highness. I need your help to save my brother." You let out a sigh of relief when he lets go of your neck. To your utter surprise, his fingers slide themselves into your hair from behind instead.

"What-?" Taehyung cuts you off with his lips firmly placed over yours. Successfully shutting you up. If it's possible his body presses into you more with his knees between your thighs shortening the length of your dress. One hand is intertwined in your hair guiding your face to fit your lips like puzzle pieces together whilst the unoccupied one held you by the waist. You couldn't press out words between his kisses even if you wanted to. After the initial surprise wore off you tried to push him away but your efforts were in vain as he's much stronger than you. 

"Y-Your highness." It came out more as a whine if anything, calling him with such a lucid voice made the shade of pinks tint your cheeks as his kisses wandered down to your neck to get you a moment to breathe. 

"They're watching. Do as I say." He whispers right next to your ear. You're still unsure why he needs to kiss you but you nod for now. "Open." Your eyes widen at the prince's shameless request. Is this what you think it is?! You're too shy to do what he told you so he puts a finger under your chin to open your mouth with force. His tongue slips into your open mouth with a satisfied hum that makes your heart almost jump out of its ribcage. You're unable to think with his mouth caressing yours his skilful tongue renders you speechless as he kisses you with the reckless abandon of a passion. He keeps you close with his mouth busy exploring yours until he's seemingly satisfied with the show he put on and withdraws licking his lips to chase your taste. 

"I- You-. You're shameless." You turn around the moment he lets you go. You're too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"No one should hear what we've been talking about. Even walls have ears here princess." You yelp when Taehyung puts his lips against the shell of your ears. No one is looking at you now but he quite enjoyed your reactions. He turns you around in his arms to steal another kiss full of tongue just for his amusement this time.

You're still trying to push him away but he's relentless in claiming your mouth. You're getting dizzy once he finally lets you go and you're afraid your legs will give out. 

"See you at the ball princess. I'll send a dress for you to wear so make sure you're dolled up. You can't put the future king in shame, can you?" Even after he left you couldn't comprehend what just happened. What the fuck?! This was not in the original novel at all!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #bts royalty au #bts series

[a-cix]

Draft 3.2k - The Prince and The Bull

Or: Omega prince Jungkook prepares for and recovers from a good, hard fuck. draft, unfinished project from last year

ideas:

Jungkook’s whatever birthday

Jungkook gets to select an alpha

Taehyung is in line

They fuck but Jungkook pretends not to like it, tells him to hurry up and cum fast

Tags: Body worship; enemas; foot fetish; royal and servant dynamic, prince Jungkook; omega Jungkook

Summary: On Fridays, Jungkook has a ritual: finish his work early, retire to his chambers, and prepare for his night with Taehyung. What started out as simply a part of his duties to produce an heir becomes something he looks forward to every week. But he tries not to show Taehyung how much he enjoys it.

-

They do this once a week. Usually, it’s on Fridays, after Jungkook’s busy week is concluded, when he has a moment to rest, and has the next day off. It’s best for him to have a day to recuperate from these nights. However, this week, it’s on Monday. Taehyung couldn’t make it on Friday; something had come up, apparently.

Jungkook shifts. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, hands tucked under his thighs. His cock is already fattening up in his pants, because there’s a ritual to this, and his body knows what to expect. That, and this is happening three days late. On Friday, coming back to his chambers and finally getting a moment alone, sending his caretaker away so that he can wash the day off and cleanse himself, get ready for bed, the usual, his body had come to expect it. The relief of the end of the week was always followed by the heady, sublime experience of Taehyung coming to the palace for his weekly duties. But on Friday, no one came. Jungkook went to bed that night gripping his silky sheets and rutting his hard cock against the mattress as he tried to fall asleep. He had lain awake for much longer than usual.

He feels the need to make up for it tonight. He had taken extra care with his preparation ritual, clearing his schedule after dinner, even though Mondays are typically one of his busiest evenings, when he has to review paperwork and letters that have piled up over the weekend. Instead, he retired to his chambers right after eating and sent his caretaker home.

“Are you sure?” he had asked, fingers twisting together as he stood there in the hall, unsure of what to do with his hands as they were suddenly no longer needed to do their single task of taking care of crown prince Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes,” Jungkook said. “I have my visitor coming tonight, and I would like to get ready alone, as always.”

His caretaker had left with a gracious bow.

To prepare, he began with a light shower, rinsing off the grime of the day. He set up a diffuser with some of his favourite essential oils, as well as a few drops of ylang-ylang, although that one isn’t particularly to his tastes. Still, it is a supposed aphrodisiac, and although it may be placebo, he finds himself more aroused when he uses it. It may also be because he includes it as part of his ritual.

Once he rinses himself off, he cleans himself out. This is the primary reason he likes to be alone for this. His caretaker has seen him in many compromising positions, but none like this. The first part is not so bad. He fills his enema bulb with lukewarm water and fills himself on the floor. He likes to do it on his side, with his leg raised up on the edge of the bathtub, a plush towel laid under him so that he isn’t lying on the cold tile. He has to stretch his arm back to pull the fat of his asscheek out of the way and uses lube to help the tip glide in. He closes his eyes as he fills himself, inhaling the soft, floral scent of the essential oils and listening to the hum of the fan above him. The warm water feels nice entering him. The next part is not so nice, but is a necessary evil. He used to grimace as he expelled, perturbed by the feeling of such a warm, watery movement and embarrassed by the gurgles of his stomach. But he’s gotten used to it, and now, as he does most things, he handles it with grace—or as much grace as possible, given the circumstances. He does this a few more times until the water runs clear.

After this, he takes another shower. It takes him over an hour. He washes himself thoroughly with lavender-scented body wash, using a loofah to exfoliate. He also exfoliates his heels and around the edges of his feet with a pumice stone, although they are already quite smooth given his tender lifestyle. He then shampoos and conditions his hair with products that smell like magnolias. He shaves with his safety razor, using a new blade each day, running his fingertips along the diamonds encrusted in the handle as he slicks the blade up his leg, reminding himself of his dignity and grace despite having just engaged in an activity that makes him feel shameful and dirty. His leg hair is sparse and always well-maintained, so there is never much hair to remove, but he takes care with it anyway, foaming up each leg and taking care with the blade to ensure no nicks or scrapes. He must be absolutely perfect. He shaves his groin and the strands of hair around his asshole with the same level of care. After this, he does the same with his armpits, and then finishes off with removing the few strands of hair growing on the tops of his big toes.

When he steps out, his body feels tender and pliant, as though his bones and muscles were dissolved in the heat of the shower. He towels himself off, using separate towels for his face and body, and a special microfiber one for his hair. Then he shaves his face in the lingering steam, the little coarse facial hair he has turned supple from the shower. He uses a different lotion for this face and body. The one for his face has no fragrance and contains ceramides to soothe any redness and make him look bright and young. The one for his body smells like peaches. He used to use an unscented one sometimes, but Taehyung has expressed a preference for this one.

I love fucking you when you smell like a princess.

Each time Jungkook applies this lotion, he recalls those words Taehyung had said to him, during one of their first nights together. He’d said it against his ear, chest pressed to Jungkook’s back, hand on his waist to keep him still and stop him from arching and wiggling as Taehyung pushed into his dripping hole. The memory of it still makes Jungkook shiver.

After all that, he stretches himself open. His asshole has had a chance to relax after the enema. He pops open the lube that he keeps in his bathroom cabinet specifically for this. Of course, he has a separate bottle of lube in his nightstand, which he poured into a pretty little pump bottle. It’s for easy access, because Taehyung likes to get Jungkook sopping wet.

He dims the lights when he does this part, because he only needs them at full brightness to ensure he’s removed all his hair. He sits on a towel—not the same one as before, but a fresh one—and spreads his legs, leaning back a bit so he can watch himself do this in the full-length mirror of his spacious bathroom. He dims the lights and rubs his lubed finger against his rim. He always begins with his middle finger. He bears down and feels his asshole pucker around his finger, and when he relaxes, it slowly pulls his fingertip into his body. Once he’s pressing against the inner ring, he breathes and looks at himself while he waits for his inner ring to relax. He takes in his long legs, perfectly smooth, his pretty feet, the soft soles and well-maintained toenails, his firm abdomen, a fold at his belly button in this bent position, and his soft chubby cock lying between his legs, resting over his pert balls, gently fattening up as he teases his hole. His hair needs some work at this stage. It rests flat on his head, slightly damp and mussed up from the towel, but not frizzy; the microfiber towel ensures that.

His toes curl when he slides the first finger past the inner ring. His body sucks it in, his greedy little hole already knowing what’s coming. Then he pushes a second in, holding them still and clenching, releasing, clenching around them until he can wiggle his fingers around. He rubs his walls, feeling the pillowy softness inside. Taehyung always tells him how soft and warm he is on the inside, how there’s no resistance, how Jungkook is a perfect little cockslut who takes it like he’s made for it.

Finally, he gets to the locked drawer: the final step of his showering routine. He had unlocked it earlier using the key he keeps in the top left drawer of his vanity table. No one goes through his vanity table, because he has so many products and is very particular about keeping them organized, keeping track of which ones are going to expire soon and keeping them separated by category—the lip drawer, the concealer drawer, the eyeliner drawer, which is, of course, separate from the eyeshadow and mascara drawer. There’s a false bottom in the top left drawer, where he keeps his perfumes. Under it, he keeps the key to this drawer in the bathroom, which contains his sex toys.

He removes his fingers from himself and reaches up to pull the drawer open and take out a buttplug. Of course, he has many, but he likes this one the best. He had it custom-made from a friend of a friend who lives outside the palace, among the general populace. Jungkook isn’t allowed out there alone, so he had passed a note to one of his cousins who has less status, and thus more freedom.

“Don’t open it,” Jungkook had said as he furtively slipped Hoseok the note.

“Don’t worry bro, I don’t wanna know what kinda custom gadget you’re having made. We’re close, but we’re not that close.”

The plug has a very wide neck that does a good job of keeping him open for Taehyung. Taehyung is very thick, so thick that the first night they shared together, they hadn’t been able to continue, because Jungkook couldn’t take it. Taehyung was very understanding and told him he could let the king know and find another bull for Jungkook, but Jungkook does not quit. He shook his head and told Taehyung to come back next week. Back then, he had thinner plugs that worked well enough, but they weren’t perfect. This new plug is pink tempered glass with a giant flared base. Jungkook had asked for it to be made this way, with specific measurements and all, and requested it to be pink Taehyung had said once that he liked when Jungkook dressed up pretty in pink for him.

He coats the plug in thick silicone lube and presses the blunt tip against his asshole. His hole immediately suctions onto it and he doesn’t need to push at all to get the plug halfway in. He breathes deeply, relaxing himself from the inside out as he gets closer to the widest part of the plug. A soft moan slips from his throat when the plug gets to the fattest part, stretching his asshole open wide before it pops into his rectum, his asshole clenching up around the fat base. It winks and twitches a few times. He wipes his fingers on the towel and holds his legs up from under the knees, admiring his handiwork. His pink hole is stretched tight around the plug, and even with the soft light refracting through the glass, he can see his open cavern and the way the lube drips all around his hole. His cock is already hard, and his body thrums in anticipation. But he still has more to do.

Once he’s cleaned all the lube and towels up, he steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the cool air of his room, with just a towel—again, fresh—wrapped around his waist. He had already selected his outfit, which he had laid out on the bed: a soft, loose-fitting t-shirt in baby blue, tight briefs that hug his hips, and a pair of tight black shorts that go only to the upper thigh. He used to wear a more proper outfit for these nights, with buttons and buckles and stiffer fabrics that made him look proper and princely, but Taehyung said he prefers when Jungkook is easily accessible. He comes here for a reason. There’s no need for fancy clothes.

Still, Jungkook likes to look good for Taehyung. He checks his appearance in the full-length mirror in his bedroom, toes wiggling in the soft carpet. He lifts his shirt up to check his ass, squeezing the plumpness with satisfaction. Taehyung loves this ass. Jungkook arches his back, appreciating the ripple of his lower back muscles and the way it makes his ass jut out. The position makes him feel a shot of arousal, because he always presents himself like this for Taehyung.

He does the final touches at his vanity table. He fixes his hair, styling it to frame his face nicely and show off his facial structure. He applies some lip balm, just a touch, to make them look pouty and kissable. Taehyung particularly likes Jungkook’s lips and often compliments the shape of them, how smooth and pink they are, how good they look wrapped around Taehyung’s cock.

Then Jungkook waits.

So here he is, sitting on the edge of his bed, fingers tucked under his thighs. Waiting. He glances at the clock. Taehyung should have been here five minutes ago. He wiggles around, feeling antsy. He looks at his toes, wiggles them on the carpet, and takes note that he isn’t wearing socks. He gets up and puts on a pair, the kind that go halfway up to the knee, because Taehyung expressed that he likes the way Jungkook’s feet look in socks, and he especially likes taking them off. Then he sits back in his spot and waits.

Finally, he hears the sounds he’s been waiting for. A murmur of voices down the hall, one coming from one of the guards on rotation, the other one deep and familiar and comforting. His thighs press together in anticipation as he hears the footsteps coming down the hall—just one pair. It used to be that the guards would escort Taehyung to Jungkook’s chambers, but they’ve been doing this long enough that he has been trusted to enter alone.

Then, the final step of the ritual—a knock at the door.

Jungkook’s entire body shudders. It knows what’s coming. Everything about this ritual has steadily gotten him into the headspace he is right now. His cock is fat and twitching in his briefs, and he is acutely aware of the deep, full sensation of his ass from the plug.

“Come in,” Jungkook says.

Taehyung is beautiful tonight, as always. His wavy black hair falls gracefully around his eyes, contrasting against his smooth, tan skin. He is wearing a black button-up shirt, neatly tucked into his pants that cling to his svelte legs. He smiles when he sees Jungkook, but it’s not a warm sort of smile, the kind Taehyung gives him at the end of their nights. No, this is a beginning-of-the-night kind of smile.

“You’re late,” Jungkook says with a pout.

Taehyung bows. “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness.”

“Ugh. I told you not to call me that.”

“Well, since you’re acting like a spoiled prince, I figured I should address you as such.”

Jungkook huffs. “Come. I’ve been…”

“Anticipating this?” Taehyung removes his shoes at the entrance and does as Jungkook commands. “Getting antsy after you couldn’t see me on Friday?”

“No. It simply threw me off.”

“Ah, yes. I know how you are with your rituals.” Taehyung sits on the bed next to Jungkook and traces a finger down Jungkook’s neck and over his collarbone, exposed from under his loose shirt. Jungkook hums and tilts his head, revelling in the feeling of finally being touched by Taehyung.

“Yes, exactly. I stick to a routine, Taehyung. I cleared my schedule for tomorrow morning, but I will need to get to work in the afternoon. Mondays are not ideal for me.”

“I apologize, my prince. I could skip this week and simply return on Friday, if you’d like.”

“No. You’re here now. We have our duties to fulfill.”

“Hm.” Taehyung smirks as he sits back to appraise Jungkook. “We do. How would you like me to begin? Same as always?”

“Of course.”

Taehyung gets on his knees on the carpet and settles between Jungkook’s legs, pushing his thighs apart with his large hands. Jungkook swallows, looking at the way the soft, warm light catches on Taehyung’s knuckles, shadows in the dips of the joints. He has such long fingers that feel so, so amazing. Jungkook shifts, pressing deeper into his firm bed and feeling the buttplug shift inside him.

Taehyung locks eyes with Jungkook as he peels his socks off, starting with the left one, as always. He kisses the side of Jungkook’s foot, pressing his lips to the smooth arch, then moving up to kiss the bottom of his big toe.

“Mmh. Your feet smell good.”

“I should hope so. I cleaned them thoroughly.”

“You always do, my prince. Always so clean and perfect.”

Taehyung moves onto the right foot, removing the rock and kissing up Jungkook’s arch. He pokes his tongue out to lick from the arch to the big toe, which he then takes into his mouth, sucking gently. Jungkook shudders at the warmth and wetness circling the sensitive skin, feeling Taehyung’s tongue dip into the thin webs of skin between his toes. He has come to associate the feeling of having his toes sucked with sex and pleasure, as Taehyung has fucked him on his back many times with Jungkook’s toes in his mouth. Taehyung presses sloppy kisses down Jungkook’s foot, massaging the sole of the other one with his strong thumb. He strokes a hand down Jungkook’s calf and hums appreciatively, massaging the muscle and freshly shaved skin.

“So beautiful,” Taehyung murmurs, moving to kiss Jungkook’s ankle, then up his calf, bending his leg upward to kiss near the backs of his knees. Jungkook leans back on his elbows, letting Taehyung kiss all the way up his thigh until he’s nuzzling at the bulge in Jungkook’s tight pants, hot breath flowing over his compressed erection, twitching against the fabric.

“For someone who claims to only be doing this as part of his duty, you sure do put a lot of effort into each and every time.”

“Hm?”

“You think I don’t notice? I love how beautiful and clean you are each time I come over. Of course, you’re always beautiful, my prince. But on our nights together, you are exceptionally so.”

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble preview

pairing: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

(set in 1529)

From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

#at 7k rn! only the smut left😛 #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #without context i should specify it's not an actual crime scene #you just murdered tae lol