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jikookiekosmos · 3 years

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Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

#bts #bts smut #bangtaninn #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung scenarios #detective!au

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fan-wicktion · 5 years

Text

Sparrow (10)

MASTER LIST

warnings: bad language, mention of weapons

a/n: WOW sorry it’s been a while. I have been going THROUGH. IT. I’m very excited about where this is going though, so the next part should be up faster. Love you all dearly.

Summary: You are an assassin who stole a kill from John Wick. He shows up in your apartment for revenge, but you managed to escape after some confusing sexual tension/combat. You fled the country pursuing a new contract, but ruffled some feathers along the way. Winston orders John to hunt you down and bring you back to him, and he intends to kill you as punishment for your misstep. John finds you (of course), ties you up and transports you to a secret holding house, attempts to interrogate you while taking out some of his sexual frustration, and ends up feeling bad for torturing you with a vibrator. You get back at him by masturbating (and getting off) in front of him in his room, pointing a gun at him so he can’t interfere.

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

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

The gruff voice accompanies a couple rough knocks, and you groggily prop yourself up in bed.

Wha—?

Last night’s memories flood your mind like a breaking dam, and you close your eyes again with a groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. FUCK.

You drag yourself to a standing position and run over your options.

1. “Heyyyy…remember last night? Ha ha crazy right? That gun though…”

Ugh, no.

2. “Did you have any crazy dreams last night? I sure did. Anything weird that may have happened was definitely a dream. Not real at all! No need to think about it every again!!!”

Hmm… he probably wouldn’t fall for that.

3. Act like nothing happened.

You decide on number three, and exit your room as casually as you can under the circumstances. John is waiting in the kitchen with his bags, and you notice there’s no breakfast to be seen. Great. He glances up at you when you enter, and you quickly avert your eyes. Suddenly the wall is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen, and you spend what feels like hours inspecting the peeling wallpaper before John clears his throat.

“Where’s my gun?”

——————————————————

At first, John thought maybe it was all a dream. Or a nightmare, actually. The sexiest nightmare possible. When you left his room he sat there in bed for a long time, heavily aroused and extremely confused. He considered going after you, but on the off chance that it WAS a dream, he decided not to. What would he say? “Oh sorry, I thought you were just pointing a gun at me and masturbating…?” No.

As soon as you walked out of your room, acting like you were auditioning for World’s Most Guilty Person, he knew it was no dream. Which meant you had his gun. He couldn’t let it slide.

He almost laughed at the look on your face when you realized he knew what you did. Almost. Your eyebrows shot towards your hairline, and your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air for a few second before you recovered.

“I, uh… have it somewhere…” you sigh and pull it out of your waistband when he shoots you a look. “Oh whatever. It’s not loaded anyway. Could have been a nice throwing weapon though.” You catch his eye and smirk, referencing one of his…habits.

John steps forward so that you are eye-level with his broad chest, and silently holds out his hand. You roll your eyes and hand over the gun slowly, wanting to stretch these few seconds and stay this close to him as long as you can. You stare up at him with an unwavering gaze as he removes the weapon from your grasp, and the moment is weirdly intimate. The energy prickles between you; an electric magnetism you aren’t accustomed to. Quickly, you wrench your gaze away and shrug off the rising urge to pull his mouth against your own.

Stepping back, you glance pointedly at his bags. “Where to, boss?”

John gives you a long, hard look. He picks up his bags, then silently walks out the door. You follow, confused. What the hell was that? It crosses your mind to run, but you have no money or any idea where you are. Looks like I’m really in this bitch.

A taxi materializes in front of the building as if it had been waiting all along. What the fuck? Oh yeah. Assassins. Secrets. Stealth. Got it. You climb into the back seat, and you’re off. The scenery of the drive is beautiful, but is somewhat ruined when you notice the driver is the same guy as before. He keeps glancing in the mirror at you and then back at John who is seated next to him. Probably waiting for something exciting to happen.

“Hey, bud. Sorry but there won’t be a show this time,” you poke your head through the glass divider. “Unless you pay the right price, that is…” you toss him a peck on the cheek and wink at him slyly in the mirror as you sit back down. The driver’s cheeks redden past the color of a tomato, and you fall into fits of laughter when you notice John’s expression. Oh, he’s PISSED! Poor guy. You decide to take it (slightly) easy on him today, and the rest of the ride goes without incident.

When you arrive at the airport, he opens your cab door but stands blocking it.

“Listen up. We’re in public. I don’t want you to pull any stupid stunts. Just get on the plane, got it?”

“Who, me? Stunts? Whatever you you possibly mean?” You bat your eyelashes with a look of innocence that even Bambi couldn’t compete with.

“And—” John sighs deeply. “—You have to hold my hand the whole time.” He looks as though he would rather saw his arm off.

An evil grin spreads across your face like fire through a brittle forest, igniting the flame of an idea in the back of your mind. Tendrils of fire lick up around you, and devil horns sprout from your temples. A pitchfork materializes—

“—and as I was saying: Don’t. Pull. Anything. Stupid.”

Oh, he’s been talking this whole time. You nod along with him and the hell fire of your imagination extinguishes. You toss him an understanding smile that will hopefully convince him you heard whatever it was he was saying. He gives you a weird look, but seems satisfied that you will follow him obediently. HA!

John shoulders his duffel bag and holds out his hand. With a cheshire grin, you clap your palm to his and allow him to lead you into the airport.

Being pulled through crowds by a giant man in a suit while you trip along behind him in sweatpants would normally be humiliating. But you’re you. And you have a plan to fuck with the suited man.

Spotting an information desk, you make a sudden beeline towards it—dragging John along behind you.

“Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!” You’re as loud and obnoxious as you can be. “I really have to SHIT, but my hubby-wubby here is being mean and won’t let me go. I gotta go BAD! Please show me where it is!” You pout with your lip stuck out, playing perfectly the bratty wife.

“Jesus Chri—” John yanks you back on track, but another force holds you in place. You both whip around and are confronted by the goddess Athena herself. A monumental woman grasps you by the shoulder with one arm, anchoring you in space.

“I will take you.” She glares the most dangerous man in the world into submission and leads you off. You stick your tongue out at John as you waltz away, giggling at his rage. He stalks after you, and only once you enter the women’s bathroom are you out of his sight.

————————————————

John paces back and forth outside the bathroom door. Shouldn’t she be done by now? Panic creeps over him like a shadow as he realizes you could be using this as an opportunity to escape, and his eyes dart around in search of any other bathroom exits you could have taken. He snags the nearest person by the shirt and shakes them, demanding to know if the women’s restroom lets out anywhere else. The man is shaking his head vehemently, confused and on the verge of tears when you finally re-emerge—20 minutes later.

“Whew,” you fan at the air with your hand, “I blew that shit UP.”

The innocent bystander scurries away quickly as John releases him, and he crosses his arms as you saunter over.

“Hubby wubby?” he manages to grind out through his clenched jaw.

“Mmm-hmm! Let’s go, sugar pie! You’re the one who wanted to hold my hand the whole time!”

You snatch up his hand and practically skip off towards your gate, ignoring the steam pouring out of his ears. An evil laugh echoes in your skull. Oh, Johnny.

—————————————————————

You shouldn’t have been surprised when the plane you boarded was empty, but it still caught you off guard. At least I can sit wherever I want?

The two of you were going to be sitting for about 14 hours on this flight, and you didn’t even have a book to read. You spent the first hour staring out the window at the ocean, the second braiding and unbraiding your hair and then wandering around the plane, and by the third you had reached the conclusion that John might be your only source of entertainment.

“Sooooo….” You flop down next to him up in first class. “How goes it?”

He glances up from what appears to be a very old leather volume, although he doesn’t appear to be reading it.

“Hmm? Oh. I’m fine.”

“Whatcha doing?”

He shifts around in his seat. “Oh. Well this is a book I’m restoring.”

“What the heck?! That’s so cool!”

“Really? I didn’t peg you as the type to have an appreciation for antiques.”

“Well, I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?” You jab him in the arm jokingly.

“You have to.” His expression darkens, and something in your chest breaks open.

“Oh. I suppose I do. But… could you tell me more about that book?”

John observes you for a second, deep in thought. He appears to come to some sort of decision, then gently places it in your hands.

“Be careful with this. It’s nearly 200 years old.”

You yelp in surprise, but examine the leather with new reverence. Oh, wow…

He spends the next few hours explaining each part of the binding, how to tell the age of a book, and how he plans on repairing it. You couldn’t help but notice that his face was filled with a new light while talking, and his dark eyes softened considerably. You let him speak, asking questions here and there but largely staying quiet. This is my apology for earlier. …And pretty much my only option right now. But this is the most he’s ever talked to me…

With a fresh appreciation for the man that is John Wick, you eventually doze off. You don’t know that you drool quite a bit or that your head flops onto John’s shoulder, and you’ll never know how shocked he was that he didn’t mind.

—————————————————

BEE-BEEP.

An electronic tone drags you from your impromptu nap, and you look over and see John is gone. Probably in the bathroom. I guess even badass men have to poop. The culprit of the noise was his phone, which had been left in his empty seat.

It’s probably none of my business but… You lean over and read the notification eagerly, and a familiar sight greets you. A contract! Target know to be around the Los Angeles area…You brighten, an idea rapidly composing itself. Maybe he’ll agree…

John returns and you spring back guiltily.

“Oh! I uh… just saw that you got a notification for a new live contract.”

“Okay. And?”

“Well I thought—I don’t know. It’s right near where we’re going to be landing…” Trailing off, you lower your eyes. “Can we? I won’t run. I just need to let off some steam—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?!”

“Yes. I could use it too.” He sits back down with a sigh and closes his eyes.

Wait, did I just? Fuck yeah! You silently punch the air in victory then gaze out the window, daydreaming about combat until you land.

——————————————————

“Oh my GOD. This is our hotel room?”

John nods. “Your room is over there.”

You traipse around the enormous suite, seeing nothing but dollar signs stacking up.

“How much did this cost?”

“Money isn’t a problem for Winston.”

“I see—” you whip around to face him in disbelief. “Is—Is that my stuff?” You approach the bed in your room slowly, as though the backpack resting on the duvet would suddenly spring out at you. Unzipping it, you find everything. Your phone, weapons, clothes…even your beach towel and book. “How did you do this?”

He leans in the doorway and shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard—” he lets out a surprised grunt as you tackle him into a hug, patting your back uncertainly.

“Thank you.”

“Okay, uh, you’re welcome.” He delicately disengages himself and you step back, embarrassed.

“Well. I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be ready to kick some ass.”

“I always am.”

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

Tag list: @chicksamwitch @mikaneonox @onebatch—twobatch @fandomwritrix @littledeadgirlwalking @minsugagenius @10yz @where-did-the-good-ones-go @catsmieow @xrevoltx @kezzasaurus-rex @homesoutofhuman @lunilate @coolbreezeinkeanureeves @bonky-bornes @lustforfern @so-not-waiting-for-godot @weird-civilian

#John Wick #john wick fanfic #sparrow #John Wick is soft #im soft #Keanu Reeves #Assassin #John Wick restores books in his free time and I love it

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weditchthemap · 5 years

Text

Van - Don't Miss this Kurdish City in Eastern Turkey - Staying with Locals

Arriving in Van, Turkey

After 18 hours in cramped and nearly upright seats we groggily disembarked, mid-day, into the sunny city of Van, the capital of Turkey’s Van province. This eastern province, situated near Iran and Armenia, is home to a large Kurdish population. The cultural, ethnic, religious, and dynastic history spans thousands of years and is worthy of an entire article in itself, but this article will focus solely on our experience and observations. This is a good site if you want the history of Van, Turkey.

Safety (is it safe to travel there?)

According to the State Department, as of June 2019, the US advises against travel to Turkey. They rate most of Turkey with a safety risk of 3 out of 4, which means: reconsider your travel plans. They give a blanket rating of 4 (Do Not Travel) to all areas near the Turkey/Iraq and Turkey/Syria border. This seems foolish and unfounded. It is basic fear mongering and I find it shameful. There have been no attacks directed towards tourists for years in the south of Turkey. Also, the prior altercations have been between the Kurdish PKK militia and the Turkish government. The notion that anyone gives a flying f*** about Americans just tells you how self-important we Americans tend to get about world politics. Both sides could care less about an American tourist. I cringe when people say, “aren’t you scared because your an American?” or “don’t tell them where you’re from” or “it’s not safe there” - their version of “there” referring to “that place I know nothing about but listen obediently to what my bias-filled news/television tells me.”

We will be traveling through the entire southern portion of Turkey. I write this as I sit at a cafe in the city of Mardin overlooking the Syrian border. Tomorrow we visit Dara, an archeological site less than 3 miles from the Syrian border. I am more worried about having enough sunscreen than anything else.

As a side note, there have been 184 mass shootings in the United States this year already (as of June 2019) where hundreds of innocent bystanders have been murdered and nearly a thousand injured. One of those shootings happened in our home town of Philadephia just a week ago at a graduation party where the shooter fired "indiscriminately into the crowd," less than half a kilometer (quarter mile) from our home. So, can it be said that my native America is perhaps more dangerous? The map below shows the location of all of the mass shootings in America for the year of 2018. The green dot is where we lived - right in the middle of a war zone!

Initial Impressions of Van

After a few failed attempts, we finally made it to the city center via dolmuş (public minibus) thanks to the incredibly friendly and helpful locals. We were instantly enamored by the city’s energy - men hawking fruit, shop owners selling baklava, and market vendors vending. Stepping off of the main road is where we felt the magic. Old men clustered around knee-high tables drinking cay (tea) smoking cigarettes and playing dominoes and backgammon. We came across one modern-looking alley where younger crowds congregated. They laughed and enjoyed each other’s company over kunefe and dondurma. The dondurma, Turkish ice cream, was so thick that it was served on a flat plate along with a fork and knife. Later we asked why a spoon wasn’t used and were told that the spoon would simply bend. Women in this particular alley showed their hair, but elsewhere in the city many women donned head scarves.

It was important for us to couchsurf in ‘off the beaten path’ parts of Turkey since we have felt that most cities we’ve visited so far are tailored to tourism. We found a lovely couple to host us for three nights but still had few hours to kill before meeting our them so we wandered around the city. We walked to a few hamams, public bath houses, which were very difficult to find as most were hidden inside large aging buildings somewhere in the back without signs or other locating information. Our perplexity must have been painstakingly clear since as many people tried to help us - one family going to great lengths. They attempted many times to help but we just stared at them as their foreign tongue remained unintelligible. They continued to try and it seemed to take them a little while to get the message that we didn’t understand Turkish at all. Even after their failed attempt to communicate they continued to glance back at us while walking away - as if leaving us in distress was causing them great discomfort.

We sat for lunch and enjoyed bread, salad, bulgur, çorba (soup), and ezme (tomato dip) setting us back 16 lira ($2.75). We were astonished because this much food would have cost us almost 3 times as much in the ‘more touristic’ portions of Turkey.

As we continued our aimless stroll with our large packs on our backs and smaller day bags straddling our chests, we heard small children giggle the heavily accented word ‘tourist’ to their parents after sighting us. People craned their necks and did double takes the moment they heard us speaking, surprised by such a foreign sound. We sat for a couple of glasses of tea, which the restaurant “gifted” us for free when we asked for the bill. Our next stop was a lokum (Turkish delight) shop to buy a present for our hosts. The entire staff stopped their tasks and nearly fought at the opportunity to help us. Using their phones, they asked where we were from and when we said “America” their faces lit up. The eager and attentive service provided by all 6 made us feel like celebrities.

While waiting to be picked up by our local hosts a couple of young men stopped to talk to us using their simple English. Like the throngs of other people that passed these men took a curiosity in us. They asked about our travels, where we were from, and and a slue of other questions. At this point it was obvious that any type of international travel to Van was effectively nonexistent. English is reserved only for the college educated professionals in the city and only some of them. The men were intrigued by couchsurfing when our hosts, having since arrived, explained to them why we were waiting for them.

About our Hosts

Our male host had hosted several time before getting married and after 3 years of married life he wanted to introduce his lovely wife to the joys of couchsurfing. We were the couple’s first guests. She loved the experience and said she couldn’t wait to host again. He was a civil engineer and she worked in a hospital as a midwife.

New Foods

We were delighted to try a bunch of new foods unique to the Van area. The mingling of Kurds, Armenians, Assyrians, and Turks is reflected in the food. Due to the blending of cultures I cannot say with certainty the origin of specific foods but will guess many come from Kurdish traditions. Also it’s important to note that Kurdish cuisine/culture differs among Kurds living in different countries.

Our Dinner

Our hosts wanted to show us a traditional dish originating in the nearby province of Etzurum. Essentially every kebab joint in the city (along with most other cities) serve only one dish—their specialty. You sit down and simply say “I will have 2”…but you say this in Turkish as they surely do not speak any other language.

The dish, Cag Kebab, is prepared by twice grilling marinated lamb. Mezzes—usually a salad, a dish of peppers, ezme, and pickels—are regularly served alongside meals at no cost. Although possible this custom is uncommon in more touristic locations.

Ayran is the drink of choice with a meal. It is watered-down yoghurt served with a pinch of salt and packaged in plastic containers. Ayran is as ubiquitous as water and can be found everywhere you can imagine. We split an ayran between the two of us. Many kabab restaurants make their own, which I found to be quite impressive given that most people in the states would balk at the idea of fermenting their own milk. I wonder if the Kurds drink Ayran more than the rest of Turkey since their diet is more heavily based on milk products - food for thought?

Another unique food found in southeast Turkey is known as şalgam, a salty bright red concoction of fermented black (or purple, or red) carrots served up best with some added pepper juice. This unsweetened beverage, which we sampled from a branded bottle, is typically homemade and garnished with carrots much the same way a bloody marry is with celery.

On our last night we sat down at another kabab joint that, like all the others, specialize in just one type of preparation. We sat down and our hosts ordered a couple portions of Çiğercisi, fried liver kebab. This regional specialty typically only found in Diyarbakır was served alongside both cooked and raw onions, tomatoes, peppers, parsley, lemon, and a special type of Armenian bread known as Lavash.

Kurdish Kahvalti (Breakfast)

Cheese, cheese, yoghurt, butter, some more cheese, white bread, and buttered cheese. Well, that may be an oversimplification, but you get the idea—Turks and Kurds have so many types of cheese. The Kurds were nomadic until as recently as the 19th century and therefore never developed permeant agriculture. Thus, their cuisine is largely based around milk, cheese, yoghurt and lamb. Our hosts spent an hour preparing and serving up a traditional Kurdish breakfast. What they didn’t make themselves they no doubt bought from local villages nearby.

As is typical, our breakfast was served on tiny communal breakfast plates—the following is what you can expect in a traditional Kurdish breakfast:

bal Kaymak - The gentle curl, or perhaps rough smudge, of this Turkish version of clotted cream sits smugly in its bath of ‘bal’ (turkish for honey), knowing full well it’s the most desired item on the table. Traditionally made with buffalo milk. The honey is also regional and available year-round.

Otlu Peynir (Herbed Cheese) from Van - Semi-hard with a salty flavor, but the majority of the flavor comes from the incredible amount of herbs that are put in, many of them local and endemic to the Van region of Turkey

Taze Kasar - Smooth firm un-aged chow cheese

Cacik – The Turkish equivalence of the Greek tzatziki

Yoghurt - What we call “Greek Yoghurt’ is actually Turkish yoghurt. Branded as “Greek” companies felt it would sell better than if they called it by its true origin, which is Turkish.

Fried eggs

Hard boiled eggs

Fresh bread

Tahini with Grape Molasses - In Turkish, Tahin Pekmez, can be thought of as the The Arabic (and Turk, and Kurd) PB&J.

Cherry Jam

Tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, black olives

Semolina Halva (İrmik Helvası) - A sweet grainy paste made from bulgar flour and sugar and sometimes milk

Tea

Tourist Attractions around Van

Visiting Van Cats

The Turkish Van Cat is a semi-long-haired breed of domestic cat, which was developed in the United Kingdom from a selection of cats obtained from various cities of modern Turkey, especially Southeast Turkey. The cats are being saved from extinction by a project at a nearby research center affiliated with the university. The center is open to visitors and we enjoyed playing with the lively cats. As you can tell from the photos many of the Van cats have heterochromia, or different color eyes. It was worth the 20-30 minute drive from the city center.

Russian Market

There is a market in Van called the Russian Market. It’s a great place to fine cheap stuff but it’s mostly imported goods from Iran and China. We were in and out in 15 minutes.

Muradiye Selalesi (Waterfall)

Take a 75 minute drive north east from the city center and you can see one of Turkey’s Most Beautiful Waterfalls. Just 20 miles from the Iranian border this waterfall is visited by many young couples and families. You can stroll down to the water or sit on the lawn enjoying a picnic and tea.

Akdamar Island And The Last Armenian Church Of Lake Van

Take a 40 minute drive west of the city and then hop onto a ferry to explore Akdaman island and visit the Last Armenian Church Of Lake Van. “Today Van is a city that today is predominantly inhabited by people of Kurdish descent. It was not always so however. Before the Kurds and the Turks, this was part of older Armenian Kingdoms, and until the harrowing events of 1915, and the forced exodus of the Armenian people, it remained a hugely important centre of Armenian culture within the Ottoman Empire.”

During our walk around the island our couch-sitting hosts jumped onto each-others backs to pick some almond fruit for us to try. Unfortunately the fruit was not ripe yet.

Enjoying the Lovely Kurdish People of Van Wherever We Went

Throughout our entire stay in Van (3 nights) people would stop and smile when they saw us. We stuck out like a sore thumb! Most of the people didn’t speak English but every once in a while someone would ask “where are you from?” in plain and heavily accented English. When we responded “America” their faces would light up and we could tell we were probably the first Americans they have ever met.

Swimming in Lake Van

Out hosts took us to a remote areas on Lake Van where we swam for a while in the cold but refreshing lake. It was every so slightly salted and quite alkaline, which made the rocky floor slippery. While the sun dropped in the sky and we dried off we ate the prepared snack they had brought for us - fresh melon and two types of cheese.

Tea Party

During our last night we joined our hosts for a tea party hosted by one of their friends. There were 7 of us in total. They work together as engineers and spend their weekends together. We stuffed our bellies, even though we had just come from dinner, as to not be rude. The food was prepared fresh just for our visit. Have I mentioned how extremely welcoming the Kurdish are? We ate homemade borek, a Japanese cheesecake, and two other dishes I cannot recall.

I was a bit surprised to learn that we were the first Americans that one of the men had ever met — he was an engineer educated in University and was from the capital city, Ankara. We spent nearly 3 hours discussing politics, religion, and nationality. We were asked if we owned guns, which I thought was funny though quite telling question. We heard about the oppression of the Kurdish people living in Northern Kurdistan and their struggle to teach their language in schools (public or private). We talked about what it meant to be Muslim, relations with other religions, and what people do for fun. Since Van is a small city they said that people just drink tea (rarely alcohol) and spend time with friends for fun.

We got onto the conversation about marijuana, alcohol, and prisons. They held no judgement despite their strict beliefs against the substance. They went on to say that small drug use is not heavily policed but dealing or selling is dealt with harshly. I asked if they had seen “Midnight Express”, a mostly factual account of the cruel treatment received by an American tourist caught for attempting to smuggle hash out of Turkey. They had not seen it, but did not seem overly surprised. They explained that “of course some horrible things happen but that it’s not typical.” I thought to myself “wow, I wonder if Americans are this self-aware.” I quickly thought about police shooting black men, senators killing and disposing of sex workers, and individuals getting life in prison for committing victimless crimes. They went on to ask if it’s true, what they see about American prisons. I told them it’s 100% accurate but many high-security prisons that do not allow cameras inside and are likely even worse. They cringed and said that prisons in Turkey are much better than in America and they were all in agreement saying “[they] would hate to be in an American prison!”

It was an amazing and a once in a lifetime experience talking openly with these kind and gentle people in this small eastern city in Northern Kurdistan, Turkey.

Kurdish Wedding

While walking the streets we stumbled across a Kurdish pre-wedding ceremony. A Mercedes parked outside a building waited for the call to prayer to finish and then a band played while the bride-to-be exited the car and walked into the building. Kurdish women traditionally only wear heard scarves after they are married.

Summing Up Our Experience

It would be an understatement to say that our time in Van was amazing. It was a once in a lifetime experience. Any trace of stereotypes I once held have since been completely obliterated. The culture is beautiful, open, and accepting- they greet one another with hugs and kisses and affectionate male friends hold hands and openly embracing their friendship in public.

The kindness, generosity, compassion, and curiosity we experienced in Van truly touched our hearts in ways that will not soon be forgotten.

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