Chapter-29A

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Pairing:Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Genre:Seam Traveller AU / Semi-Soulmates AU.

Summary: Your locomotion is not that of a normal human being, rather it is to the extent of physically being able to transport from one place to another. Normally, your ‘seams’ slip you into locations that you are familiar with, but when you unexpectedly happen upon the apartment of Kim Taehyung in Seoul, South Korea – your ability that you have always deemed a curse begins to feel more like a blessing in disguise.

Count: 21,883 words.

Note: There is a smut scene at 15.12.2017 – it is not necessary to read if that stuff does not sit well with you, but you must read the final paragraph. Full sentences that are expressed in italics are indicators that they are being spoken in Korean. I sweated blood and tears for this fic I hope you can taste the salt when you read every single sentence.

09.02.2017 → V1

It is not uncommon for you to blink, and suddenly find yourself elsewhere.

The novel you were reading beneath afternoon summer light, bleeding gold across inky sentences, no longer weighs lightly in your palms. The grocery store aisles with their shelves of generic cereal brands and biscuits no longer demand to be bought beneath fluorescent lighting but instead become rows upon rows of old paperback novels about intangible love. The cracked plaster of your bedroom ceiling you were watching through sleep-heavy eyes opens up into an endless blanket of navy blue, speckled with the silver freckles of the stars, thick strands of grass nestled against your shoulder blades instead of the crisp sheets of your bed.

The places that you end up are familiar, comforting, always the same. The library downtown is a frequent location, the museum in the next suburb over, the meadow you always visited as a child to bring your fantasies to life. The slips occur at peculiar times, most often when you are stressed or exhausted down to the marrow of your bones, but sometimes when you least expect. You can never decide whether it is worse at night or day, because the darkness brings an eerie tension to the creaking swings in the park and the rusting slippery slide, and the light brings an anxious bite to the bookstore bustling with bodies that have not a clue of those who can unintentionally bend the physics of existence and suddenly materialise in locations they know better than the back of their own hand.

Mostly, it is simply annoying, never of any kind of benefit. Your feet just cannot maintain their solidity on the ground they stand upon, and such a matter has branched back into your family tree for generations. It can be controlled, but it takes years to master such a refined art, and it can even be stopped entirely, yet such a happening is a rarity that has only graced your great great grandfather.

Tonight is not unusual to any other. You pull back the sheets, feel the lethargy crawl out of the cotton and beneath your skin, dragging you down, down, encouraging you onto the mattress until a familiar tingle itches up your spine. And you think no, no, not now when you are in nothing but a flimsy silk nightdress, when all you want to do is allow the blissful lull of dreams to take you under, but you have never been one to have a say in this. Not yet, at least.

The shift is a rippling wave rolling over your body, except in that wave are a thousand needles, pricking at your bones like crackling electricity, taking you apart, reforming you elsewhere. The first time, which occurred at the age of fourteen, hurt like absolute hell, but now it is more a dull ache if you can refer such a thing to being quite literally pulled into pieces and remade. You stopped counting the number of times you have slipped through the seams once you no longer had enough fingers, toes, to tick off. And with every jump, the sensations became more bearable.

This, though, is the first time that you have leapt through a seam that takes you across mighty expanses of land and seas, spitting you out into an apartment too small for the objects that cluster within.

You land, ungraciously, upon an unmade bed that homes no presence of warmth, no recent frequency of another being. At first, you heave a weighted sigh of relief, thankful that your body has not decided to drop you onto a hardwood table or a biting gravel road, especially in the sparse garment that you wear. Usually, the slips are gentle, but often they can be frenzied and quite literally just spit you wherever you can be disposed of. Akin to a fickle woman who rushes around her apartment, throwing this and that in place since she is already five minutes late to her date, the seams will slip and slide between the extremities of a smooth sailing ride or a close range gunshot, messy and catastrophic but you cannot damn well help it.

Then, the confusion, edging on the skirts of panic, starts to make itself known in an unease beneath your skin. Because one, although you are always, always taken to places of familiarity, you can swear on your life that you have never once been in this apartment before, and two, you are absolutely positive that we are not in Kansas anymore, Toto. It hints in the compact walls, the faint, yet distinct aroma of Asian cuisine that drifts through the slot open window, the paperback books upon books that are creased and bookmarked on the bedside table amongst stained coffee mugs, all inked in an alphabet that your pen does not understand, nor know of at all.

Tentatively, you shuffle across the mattress until your bare soles meet the floorboards, the touch alike stepping on ice, and it is only then that you truly register how absolutely freezing the entire place is. In a feeble attempt to bring heat back to your blood, you firmly rub your palms up and down your exposed arms, approaching the window and peering through the parted curtains to the street below. It bustles with a warm, conversational ambience, makeshift markets lining the sidewalks and concocting the delicious aromas that make your tongue tingle, all manned by Asian men and women who are cloaked in thick coats and long pants, scarves tucked in loops around their necks.

It is then, that you realise that it is not just the apartment that is cold, but also the temperature outside as well. A kind of bite that cannot be conjured by an odd, stormy summer night, one that wraps tightly around your bones in a chill that makes your entire body quake and quiver.

No, no. Which can only mean that it is winter.

And suddenly, the confusion is completely and utterly swallowed by the panic, an anxiety that roots deep in your stomach because not only has the seam slipped you into an unknown apartment, but it has stretched across continents, oceans, to welcome you into an entirely different country.

“Holyshit!”You gasp, clasping your hand over your mouth, eyes widening because this is real, this is not a dream, it is well and truly occurring right here and now and you need to go, go go. Desperately, you try to will yourself to be taken back home, squeezing your eyes shut and thinking about nothing but your bed, your desk, the walls of your very own room. But no matter how hard you try, the situation of where you are continues to creep back up on you like a monster waiting beneath the bed, demanding to be known, revealed and explored.

Maybe. You distressingly think. Maybe I am too cold.

So, with a mental apology to whoever resides within this apartment that unsuspectingly lures women who can jump through space, you quickly pad over to the small walk-in wardrobe that is nestled in the same wall as what appears to be the entrance to a bathroom. In comparison to the unruly apartment, you discover that the clothing hanging on the racks is surprisingly tasteful with labels that are far beyond your price range, some items reaching into the triple figures, all menswear in suits and ties, coats, the occasional baggy slacks. Avoiding anything drastically expensive, you settle on a forest green jumper that hangs to your mid-thigh and a pair of sports shorts that brush past your knees – looking completely ridiculous, but it was better than your nightdress that welcomed that teeth of winter to take your skin for the kill.

For five minutes more, you sit upon the edge of the bed in the partial darkness, eyes closed, focusing on home but gradually, with every passing second, losing more and more hope. Not even a shiver outside of the icy atmosphere has made itself present, no prick of thin needles, no weightlessness of existing without a physical form. The slip, it seems, wishes for you to stay a while, and you know that under all circumstances, you certainly cannot stay much longer within this apartment because god knows who it belongs to and when they will be arriving home.

Lacking concern on an appropriate appearance, you roll on black socks and slide your feet into a pair of sheepskin boots that are at least five sizes too big, running your fingers through your tangled hair before exiting the bedroom and searching for the front door. The living space is not much bigger than the sleeping quarters, with the dining area, kitchen, and lounge space all squeezed into one, overlapping in places, but it holds a warmth of homeliness that almost makes you wish to stay. But rather, you spot the entrance down a short hallway that is lined with shoes from leather patent oxfords to battered black and white converse, careful to not disturb the order as you edge past them in the dark, eyes on the orange light that filters through the frosted glass above the doorway, a nervousness at abandoning the security of this apartment for the streets of this foreign land beginning to stir about your heart.

But as you reach for the door handle, there is a soft jingle, and then it is twisting open on its own accord.

For a moment, you cannot entirely register what is happening, nor reconcile the man that stands before you with his slender fingers still curled around the doorknob, staring with what appears to be an expression of bewilderment that most certainly resembles your own. With the hallway light of the apartment complex shining directly behind him, yet completely exposing you, it is difficult to make out any certain features other than the fact that he is built like a slender tree, tall, yet still having an aura of girth about him in the broad set of his shoulders. Faintly, you can make out large, almond shaped eyes, cheekbones made harsher by the shadows, honey blonde hair that is ruffled with a day of outings, plush lips that are parted in surprise, confusion, awe. Alike a deer in headlights, all you can find yourself capable of doing is becoming a taut statue of human muscle and flesh, silent, frightened.

The stranger, and supposedly the owner of the home you accidentally landed within, flicks on a light beside the doorway, washing the both of you in a yellow glow that reveals himself entirely and has you struck with wonder. The backlight and shadows had not done him any justice, for now, he is suddenly transformed into a marvellous beauty that leaves you amazed and frankly – almost thankful that out of all the potential homes your seam had to place you within, that it was his very own, if not for the fact that you were still scared out of your rational thought, heart racing a mile a minute, almost breaking through your ribs and escaping your chest altogether.

“What are you doing in my apartment?”

His voice is a deep crushed velvet, cloaking your skin in a language that you cannot decipher, vowels and consonants completely and utterly foreign to your hearing. Unknowing what to do, you gape, close your mouth, and then gape again, a mute goldfish of fear and desperation, of please, please just take me home. But your body does not quake and shiver, and your feet remain grounded, so all you can do is stare blankly at the mystery man of a world galaxies apart from your own and pray that he does not skin you down to the bone for invading. Your only solace is that his face remains passive as if he is beyond used to being exposed to the unusual.

“My English is terrible, I apologise,” He speaks again, and you can almost cry at the sound of your native tongue flicking in your ears. His voice still sounds so lovely, massaging into your skin with a gentle warmth, a little unsure in its capabilities with an accent tinging the edges. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

You blink, lips forming a perfect circle and oh. “I-If I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“Given that I have not thrown you out yet, I’m sure you can trust that I’ll probably believe whatever story you have to say,” And when he smiles, it looks painfully familiar, tucked in between dusty memories that were deemed insignificant until now. You card through the mental pages, yet he hides himself well.

But first things first. “Where am I? What country are we in?”

His smile appears to fade in the slightest, suddenly a little wary. “Seoul, South Korea.”

South. Fucking. Korea.

For an instant, an overwhelming surge of giddiness shoots from your toes to your nose, tickling beneath your skin and you have to clasp your palms over your lips to suffocate the disbelieving laughter. The unknown man watches on, still standing in the doorway of his own home at the unusual girl who is finally getting her bearings on the fact that she has travelled across oceans within the blink of an eye, the smile remaining to colour the corners of his mouth because he is just as incredulous at the sight of a foreign being giggling to herself inside his flat, and by the way–

“My clothes?”

His voice, laced with muted humour, snaps you back into the situation at hand and you look down at the haphazard pairing of garments that you wear, flushing a brilliant rosy colour because you suppose you have been caught redhanded. Dropping your hands back to your sides, you stare up at him apologetically.

“I-I didn’t want to take them,” You murmur with hesitance, reaching into the pocket of the sports shorts where your silk nightdress had been stuffed. Unabashedly, you hold the flimsy, and to the conservative person, erotic item up for him to see as if to say how could I simply stay warm in such a thing? “But where I came from, it is still summertime so this was all that I was wearing when I arrived. It is absolutely freezing here.”

“Arrived?”

Oh.

Gathering the silk back into the pocket, your brows pull into a slight frown. “If you truly want an explanation, I think you might need to, um, sit down. It could take us a while.”

Although the man yawns like a feline, dark eyes squinting shut, he takes a step closer so that he is within the flat, shutting the door and unwinding the chestnut coloured scarf draped over his shoulders before delivering another smile that remains to hone familiarity within your subconscious.

“I have time.”

And so he fills up the kettle and sets it to boil, laying out teacups and bringing you a soft blanket to wrap around your legs. The strangers does not change out of his long coat and slim, charcoal trousers, appearing very prim and proper in comparison to you, but he does not seem to mind, ignoring the ever present burn that simmers on your cheeks at the sudden awareness of your own sloppy appearance. Once the tea has been made, he brings the porcelain cups over to the dimly lit dining table, placing one before you and then settling into the chair directly across the stretch of wood. Absently, you watch the steam curl in spirals from the cherry red liquid until he is breaking the silence.

“What is your name?”

Flicking your gaze back up to him, you cannot help but be struck again at how placidly beautiful he is. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah, it sounds beautiful. Y/N.” It truly does sound lovely on the tip of his tongue, and you wish to swim in his delighted grin that uncannily resembles a box. “I’m Kim Taehyung. Pleased to meet you.”

At that, you laugh, which appears to make him light up that much more. “The pleasure is all mine.”

And just like that, you lay your trust on the table for this Kim Taehyung who strikes familiarity within you, yet for reasons unknown, to observe and attempt to understand. You tell him everything. From how the ability to slip through the seams in space has stretched centuries beyond your lifetime, a ribbon that has woven itself through the generations upon generations of your family, but only tying in knots around the hearts of a select, destined few – you being one of them – to the fact that it can take decades to control its sporadic occurrence unless luck is on your side and it gradually releases you from its treacherous clutches, to the general relativity of the seam slips and how that makes your visit to his apartment, thousands of miles beyond your own home, such an irregularity, a flaw in the metaphorical system that is travelling, jumping, leaping through the construct of physics from one destination to another.

“So basically, it is like– Ah. I cannot think of the English word for it.” Taehyung frowns, rubbing at his jaw in concentration, but you already know.

You take a sip of your lukewarm tea. “Teleportation.”

“Yes! Teleportation.” He says it as one would say eureka! – full of gusto and with an affirmative clap of his broad palm against the table. “That is … Amazing. A gift.”

When you laugh, his cheeks tinge a soft rose shade. “A curse, more like it, since I have no control over when it happens. I mean, right before I arrived here, I was getting into bed, on the verge of sleep. It is disorienting, especially because it targets you when you are vulnerable.”

“I think it is, uh, fascinating.” You like the way that his brows pinch together when he searches for a word, eyes flicking back and forth, distant, as though the letters are strung up in the air before him to sift through. Then, his gaze drifts back to you, and you cannot help the delightful warmth that envelops your limbs at the weight of it. “Beautiful, in the way that your feet simply cannot stay grounded to one place. They strive for somewhere new, different.”

With your fingertip, you circle the rim of your teacup, a meek smile pulling at the corners of your lips as your words draw up a familiar memory, one with your grandfather on the back porch, coated in streams of sunlight, watermelon crunching between teeth. “I always wonder if they are searching for something, or trying to take me back to my childhood.”

“Maybe they are looking for someone to make them stay.”

When Taehyung speaks those words, mirth plays around his eyes, honesty softening his features, and you cannot help but look away, feeling your heart start to pick up at an erratic pace that you are certainly sure, with the silence that envelops the apartment, he can hear. Truly, it was something you had always wondered too, whether the seams were trying to slip you into the life of another, quite literally throwing you to the nearest body of warmth. That was how many of the seam slipping generations before you found love, after all.

Determined on changing the subject, to be free of his dark chocolate eyes that threaten to drown you, you scrabble about your mind for the second question that has been nagging at your subconscious. “I-I know this might sound strange, but I swear I have heard your name before. I think I must have, for me to be brought here since the seams will only take me to places that hold familiarity.”

At that, Taehyung seems to falter, blanking, looking down so that his tousled fringe obscures the beautiful irises that were drinking you in as easily as the tea. A small sigh heaves from his shoulders, fingertips drumming against the underside of the table.

“Well, I don’t mean to sound … Conceited? But I am very famous in South Korea.” The words sound unsure, skittering across the wood in barely a mumble. “I am a singer. But lately, I have been starring in a lot of dramas and other television shows, some that are broadcasted worldwide. That might have been where you saw me or heard my name.”

The way he talks about it is like a heavy burden that sinks ships into the depths of dark oceans, that swallows light and only provides aeons of black oblivion. It seems to hook into his bones and drag him down, down, and you wonder, for somebody who must have the world at his feet with such fame, how he could experience such a feeling, a distaste for the career path that he walks.

“I see. Well, I must say, you were relatively calm when you opened the door to find me.” You say as an attempt to lighten the unexpectedly tense atmosphere, smiling into your teacup before taking a sip. The floral taste soothes wondrous flavours over your tongue. “If it were me coming into my flat to find a complete stranger, I probably would have panicked and called the authorities.”

“That is the unfortunate thing about fame, I’m used to coming home to unfamiliar people searching through my things. The guards are normally always paying attention to who comes and goes downstairs, but some people manage to slip past.” Taehyung says it with an exhausted lilt, tugging at a string of sympathy within you. But then he creates that smile again, directly at you, the kind that lights fires and holds sunlight and you feel yourself getting warmer. “But you’re the first foreigner, and you looked so dazed and confused. I thought maybe you had moved in as a neighbour and accidentally taken the wrong keys – that was until I saw you wearing my clothes.”

And when you laugh with him, you feel it, the sensation of losing your footing, a vibration that tickles up your limbs and has you placing the empty teacup upon the table. When you do so, the porcelain clatters, and his curious gaze seems to understand why. A particularly harsh wave of needlelike pricks across your skin has you wincing.

“Taehyung, it’s time for me to go.”

There is a fleeting hint of something that crosses his expression at your words, akin to disappointment, despondency, stirring a masochistic kind of happiness within you because you are almost glad that he wants you to stay. Desperately, you wish to do so too, wanting to learn everything about his life between the lines, the hastily scrawled notes in the bookmarks, penned down in the ink of his existence.

“Will you come back?” He says, and the words are laced with so much hope that you cannot bear to deny him, to give him any kind of answer that translates to no.

In a stretch of bravery, you reach your hand across the table, and in an air of ease, he takes it with a gentle squeeze. His fingers are much longer than your own, the knuckles curling around your palm, almost swallowing it up whole and you find yourself thinking how uncanny it is that they fit so beautifully together, jigsaw pieces that match perfectly.

“I hope so.” And that is all you can give him, but he appears to deem it enough with the smile that lights up on his lips, that curves his eyes and god, you beg that this was not an accident, an unexpected fault that was never supposed to happen. Taehyung smooths his thumb across your skin, and you shiver.

“I hope so too.”

They are the final words that you hear him speak before you open your eyes and find yourself falling, landing upon the creased sea of your own bedsheets, face to face with the cracked plaster of your ceiling once more, patiently awaiting your arrival in the shadows.

The trembles in your bones take longer to settle this time, and you wonder if that is due to the distance, or maybe the fact that Kim Taehyung has already tucked his heart right beside your own and deemed the spaces between your ribs a place for it to call home.

When you look down, you realise that you are still wearing his clothes.

“Oh,” You breathe, smoothing your palm down the front of the green material, sighing when it lifts the aroma of his cologne into your senses.

Although the heat that simmers in your bedroom, a stark comparison to the shivers that had rattled you back in Taehyung’s apartment, you cannot bring yourself to peel off the sweater, only kicking off the shorts before curling up against the mattress. Your sleep is dreamless, maybe because what had occurred on this evening of winter and summer, of here and there, you lived something much greater than your imagination could ever think to conjure.

When you awake the morning after, you see him again over breakfast, mouth full with half-chewed cereal, forefinger pressing the channel button on the television remote as you aimlessly surf for something that is no less than boring.

You have to backtrack, as it is the split second before you change the channel again that you see his familiar face, sitting on an entertainment panel and smiling the brilliantly mind-blowing grin that pours elation into your heart. Mesmerised, you ignore the subtitles that stream along the lower portion of the screen, simply analysing his ethereal features, how beautiful his deep baritone sounds when it strings around his native tongue, and how almost unfamiliar his demeanour appears in comparison to the man whose apartment you happened upon last night, a thin facade that barely veils the truth beneath.

You decide you like the Taehyung who channelled warmth into your hand and whispered hopes across the dining table than the one who seems to strain his smile through the pixels on the screen, and you hope to every entity in this universe that the one staring at the camera with lifeless eyes, indirectly at you lounged on your sofa, is not the only version you will see ever again.

22.02.2017 → V2

The second time you meet Taehyung, it sounds like he is fucking the life out of somebody.

To be frank, he most definitely is. And you certainly disturb that by misjudging your balance – due to your current state of mind not necessarily being strait-lace as a result of the Sunday family barbeque you were at only moments ago, fourth mimosa in hand – toppling into the glass cabinet-come-pantry that is propped up in his kitchen. Nothing shatters, thankfully, but you certainly make a clatter that encourages the squeaking bed to still, the heated moans to die out into a silence that stirs sickly in the depths of your stomach, choking at your throat until he quickly emerges from the room and closes the door behind him.

Taehyung, you finalise in that moment, is truly so and utterly gorgeous – no matter the situation. Sex softens his limbs, lust glimmering in the beads of sweat that slip down the golden expanse of his torso, cock straining harshly, neglected, against low hanging cotton briefs, lips swollen and bright red. And god, you wish it were you in that bed with him instead, your hands that created the beautiful honey storm of his mussed hair.

“Bad time?” You whisper with a lazy smile, hands behind your back, and the corners of his mouth colour with the hint of one. He looks sleepy, eyes drooping, digging his fingertips into the left, trying to pull himself out of the daze of sex.

“Maybe– No, yeah. I hadn’t–“ He lazily waves his hand about, leaving the rest of his words to interpretation, and you nod with a fluster, understanding. It is difficult not to when you find yourself flicking your gaze southward every other second.

Taehyung seems to notice your constant wandering eyes, his own appraising your simple outfit of a black shirt styled as a dress, how easily he could slide the cotton up your lovely thighs and have what lays between for himself. Maybe that is just the desire talking, or maybe he is already dipping his feet into waters that he has not tread within in too long. Nonetheless, he all but forgets the girl that he left tangled in his sheets with the gardenia tattoo that runs vines of ink up her spine, eyes settling hungry, desperate, on you, until the door behind him is jostling open with a rush of curiosity that soon falls into sheer disgust, betrayal.

“Who is this?” The girl demands, wearing what appears to be his shirt, and although you cannot understand her, you can tell by the twisted look that pulls at her features that she is livid. She looks between the two of you, eyes widening with every passing moment. “Seriously, what the fuck is this, Taehyung?”

When you shrink back at her sudden lash of words, Taehyung snaps into action and turns to face her, his expression completely blank. “I can’t explain, Irene. I don’t want to, either.”

“What do you mean you can’t explain? How the fuck did she get in here?” Irene shouts with a newborn vivacity, her cheeks flaring brightly, but Taehyung is unfazed. She was just another girl, another number in his cellphone, another fuck available on call.

“I think you need to go,” Taehyung mutters quietly, but with enough venom that you see the girl recoil whatever spitfire she had left back into her lungs, swallowing hard before storming into his room. It only takes less than ten seconds for her to remerge, a coat in place, a purse tucked underneath her arm and a glare burning holes through you before she breezes past Taehyung, who looks almost bored.

“Don’t call me again, asshole.”

And then, the door slams with a finality that he welcomes wholeheartedly.

You feel like you have landed straight in the middle of a drama episode, the idea, not at all helped by your tipsiness, having you smacking a palm over your lips to hold in the laughter. Taehyung, with his firm expression, immediately softens at the sight of you, a rueful grin lifting his cheeks as you try to conjure a sentence.

“God, that was awkward! I am so sorry.”

But he understands, running a hand down his face before pushing it back through his hair, making the honey strands stick up even more wildly. “It’s fine. You can’t help it.”

For a moment, the pair of you stare at one another in silence, drinking in the sight of the other after weeks of separation. There were a multitude of times that you thought maybe, just maybe, you were truly never going to see him in the flesh ever again, and so it takes everything in you to not touch him, embrace him. After all, you are merely no more than acquaintances, even if he knows the greatest secret that rules your life. One of the very few outside of your family to learn and understand the reality of you.

Yet already, the connection between you runs so much deeper, layers beneath layers of trust, all based around the promise of returning to him. It fuels the yearning of wishing to learn about every little detail of him, the finer dust that coats his existence, all the more.

The smile has not left his face, his voice splitting the silence. “You came back.”

“Indeed I did,” You reply, almost sheepish in the way that you look down at your feet, the intensity at which he watches you practically unbearable. It hunts beneath skin, seeking answers to questions that you know nothing of.

“Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?” He winks, and you cannot help the laughter that surfaces once more, the playful charm of his tone igniting a pure joy within you that nobody else on the earth has made you feel.

Though before you can reply, Taehyung rolls his shoulders back, golden skin stretching rather nicely over the muscle of his abdominals, pectorals, bringing your laughter to a definitive halt, entranced by the captivating move before he drags his feet over to the sofa tucked in the corner of the living space to slouch down. If he did not have your attention before, he certainly does now with the way that he sits, knees spread apart, hunching himself into his torso with a hand lazily scratching at a bicep, the outline of his dick so plainly evident against his underwear and you are still trying to figure out whether the heat that flushes your cheeks is due to the alcohol or the laughter or your sudden spark of lust, a flame that has never been lit by another. That form of intimacy is too risky for a traveller, for somebody who can barely keep themselves grounded as it is.

But you suppose there is a first for everything, especially with the liquid courage that surges through your veins and draws you towards the couch, taking a tentative seat beside him.

Taehyung, eyes still weighted with the pull of desire, gazes at your thighs, the way your dress has hiked itself up to reveal the smooth flesh further. His fingertips itch to touch you, especially with the naive flicker that skirts your gaze, though instead, he settles for words.

“Where were you? What were you doing?”

His timbre voice heartens the heat that spars within your chest, digs deep into your being. Although his demeanour, the sex that rolls from his skin in seas that skim at your irresolute shores, you presume that he has not a clue of what he is doing to you, what fervency he is drawing beneath your skin. When you barely, in the slightest, move closer to his side, his heavy stare immediately flicks back down to your legs, the tip of his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth.

Keyword – presume.

“On every second Sunday, in the summertime, my family gathers and we have a barbeque.” The words come out too softly, almost hesitant, giving away that your thoughts are far from such a meagre conversation. You try not to look down, rather, fixating on the lovely shape of his damp lips. It proves to be just as irremediable against the effulgent flames consuming you from the inside out. “We eat a lot, and we- Uh. We drink a lot.”

At that, Taehyung smiles in that sunshine kind of way, light pouring into the dimly lit flat and you hope to every entity that such a radiance does not reveal the dark haze that drifts about your gaze, the burn that simmers upon your cheeks.

An infinitely small part of you hopes that it does – that he catches on and sinks his teeth in your throat, predator on prey, hands wandering the land of your body.

Taehyung nudges your knee with his own, and its does more damage to your heart than it should, whisking it up in a carnal whirlwind. The smirk that plays on his lips is absolutely devilish. “I thought something felt a little… Different, about you.”

If anything, your cheeks burn brighter. “How so?”

“You seem a little intoxicated.”

“O-Oh,” is the only thing you manage to stammer before you start giggling, underlying his point in bold. As if he cannot help himself, he too starts to laugh – a deep, sensual tune of a strummed bass, humming around the apartment, entrancing you in its endearment. It is a moment like this, you discover with time, that is one of foreshadowing, the casual way in which you fall into the sound of one another like a check in the box of the many steps to this being something much more, bigger, than the two of you can handle, yet you take it by the reigns without any means. This comfortability, contentment, paving a path to a future you never once thought of, nonetheless considered.

But when Taehyung suddenly grunts in the middle of his laughter, winces, you raise your brows. “Everything okay?”

“Uh,” is all that he mumbles, shifting rather uncomfortably on the couch, strain pulling at his features, thinly veiled by mild embarrassment. “L-Like I said. Didn’t. Um…” And his eyes flitting down to his crotch is all the answer that you need.

All the push that you need to offer.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Alike he were plainly slapped across the face, he stares at you with widened eyes, and it would almost be comical if not for the burning desire that consumes you entirely, the way that his expression falls into one of delighted, lascivious promise. Almost doubtful, he inclines his chin, a guide to bring you forward, lacing invisible ribbons around your wrists that draw you closer, closer, until you unsteadily slide onto his lap, bare skin to skin, thighs straddling either side of his own.

You feel him as if he has every inch of your body shaped to his own, not merely just your hips weighing down on his lap, his palms squeezing the tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing at the flesh, your own caressing his throat in such a way that his lips part invitingly. There, with the heat of his cock pressed to your thinly clothed centre, you watch one another with curiosity, a question that hangs silently between you, yet flares in iridescent neon. Do you want what I want?

Taehyung, in a movement you deem bold, but one that he knows well with too many women lost in the fabrics of his bedsheets, leans forward and closes his eyes to slits, long eyelashes colliding. When he dusts his lips up your throat, barely kissing, just the gentlest of touches, your bones turn to marble and you find yourself a statue. He halts.

“Have you done this before?”

You shudder when his whisper brushes along your jaw with the movement of his lips, featherlight. Right then and there, intoxicated by the proximity of him, you almost grit your teeth and lie. But Taehyung appears to be a man that sees truths like distress signals, the kind to dig his nails deep into the soils, unearth honesty in the dirt that stains his fingertips. He would exhume candour from your very soul, and so you bite your tongue until it bleeds, because bitter copper often tastes better than veracity.

“N-No. Too dicey.”

A small huff of a chuckle tickles your skin, and to your disdain and his reluctance, he pulls away, nearing only once more to place a delicate kiss upon your flushed cheek before resting your foreheads together. At this distance, you can see the streaks of caramel that coil around his iris, ambivalent in nature. Your heart stirs a frenzy when his broad palms leave your thighs, instead coming up to frame your face.

“Not like this, then.” The firm words circle the curve of your ear, the hint of a covenant underlying his tone, as if to say not yet, but not never.

And, in order to demonstrate his point, a vibration hums at the base of your spine, inching up, up. Your toes and fingertips tingle, lashes fluttering, limbs quivering like a leaf caught in the shivering breeze and he notices – you can tell by the way that his nails seem to dig a little into your skin, a silent demand to stay although you both know that there is no control over such a thing. Taehyung smiles, a small, empathetic twitch of his lips before they move.

“Come back again, okay?”

There is no room for denial.

“I promise.”

When you arrive home, the sky is beginning to blend with the evening, distant darkness looming upon the horizon as the sun progress in its descent. The strung fairy lights in the backyard have flickered to life, stars that glitter in the midway juncture of night and day, casting a soft ambience among the gentle chatter and laughter of your family. Meat sizzles on the barbecue, glasses clinking against the lips of wine bottles, and you rush to grab yourself a glass as a means to calm down from what nearly occurred on the other side of the world, but frail fingers curling around your wrist halt you in your path.

“Where did you go today?”

And the way that your grandfather stares at you with his crinkled, kind eyes is almost like he knows that you went someplace that you are still trying to understand, a place anew that you wish to be invited back to more than once, that becomes a familiarity to your seams. You smile, a hushed secret between the two of you, and the sensation of Taehyung’s lips ghosting along your jaw tingles in just the slightest as you speak.

“Somewhere I think that I am supposed to belong.”

10.06.2017 → V22

Visiting Taehyung on that one fated night was no mistake, no flaw in the system that accidentally projected you too far. For if such a thing were true, you would not be going back there, over and over again, seeing him more often than you do the wilting wildflowers in the meadow, the worn spines of the library paperbacks. His smile becomes a regularity, his voice a constant, his mannerisms and language something that rubs off on your skin over four months of arriving, departing, feeling.

Four months is all that it takes for Taehyung to learn that you absolutely despise tomatoes in their natural form, but adore the taste when combined with sauces, soups, anything but the slimy texture that they take in their solid state. To learn that you are studying a bachelor of science, majoring in physics in order to grasp a deeper understanding about the way your body defies all that is supposed truth and fact. To learn that your grandfather has played a greater role in your life than your parents in the sense that neither of them honed the traveller gene, so he was the one to teach you all of the ropes, the necessities, the what to and to not dos. To learn that your friends are treasures, few in number, but enough to keep you content, to understand and trust the reason why you suddenly run out of the club and into the shadows of the alley, or spend longer than necessary in the change rooms, because if anyone were to bend down and look beneath the door, your feet would be nowhere to be seen. To learn that your favourite colour is blood orange and the time of day that you enjoy most is cloudy sunsets on the foreshore, where salt sticks to the roof of your mouth and the waves make love to the sand, the sun upon the horizon turning the clouds into mountains of violet, tangerine, rouge pink, reflecting onto the surface of the sea in an ethereal mirror of the sky. To learn that your time as a high school student was hell as a result of your curse, the slips and leaps occurring so often when you first started having them at the age of fourteen that you almost did not graduate, always running out in the middle of tests or not even arriving at school in the first place. To learn that, like him, you worked your absolute ass off to get where you are now in your life, college being a lot easier to maintain due to the spaced out attendance, the fact that you are older now, more experienced, able to understand.

Four months is all that it takes for you to learn that Taehyung started his career in a seven-member boy band that he is still close with, considers as brothers, to this very day. To learn that he adores children and all kinds of animals, anything, really, that he can hold and cuddle to his chest. To learn that he understands and speaks English so well because he lived in Canada for two years and, in fact, only moved back home to Seoul at the start of last year. To learn that although his sociable personality on television, he prefers to keep to himself, enjoys sitting out on his balcony with the plants and a light novel over spending time in the limelight. To learn that his singing voice is quite possibly the most beautiful thing you have ever had the blessing of hearing, like rivers of honey trickling across your skin, the goosebumps that raise from crackling firewood, humming deep into the core of your being, nestling into your bones and heart to stay for good. To learn that he frequently has nightmares that have him waking up screaming and breaking out in a cold sweat, that give him bruises beneath his eyes in a shade of lavender, the worse ones often forming a mild rash on his left wrist. To learn that he cannot, for the life of him, get along with people fuelled by arrogance, who cannot be open-minded to the world and what is occurring around them, refuse to embrace that there is so much more out there, not only on Earth, but in the entire galaxy that we have not a clue of.

The two of you learn and grow from one another, watering your leaves in newfound knowledge about your individual cultures and lifestyles. He shows you the proper way to hold a pair of chopsticks, while you teach him the correct way to use cutlery (you have not a clue of how he was doing it wrong the entire time while he was living in Canada, but apparently, he was never phased by it). He teaches you Korean phrases – he adores when you point out random items in his apartment and say “chaegjang” (bookcase) or “chimdae”(bed) – while you help refine his skill in your own native tongue, arriving one day to find he has bought an English dictionary and thesaurus for both of you to go through. You even play beer pong with just the two of you at his dining table, using a watered down beer that tastes like dirt, but after he sinks the ball into your third cup, you decide the flavour is sweeter when you share it with him.

Neither of you mention the night where your intoxicated fingers curled into the front of his shirt, his lustrous palms squeezing the muscle of your thighs and eliciting such a sensation within you that even to this day, you barely know how either of you managed to control yourselves. Whether the lack of addressing the matter is out of embarrassment, uncertainty, modesty, you are unsure. But it is a faraway thought, something that only shows its face when you are alone, late at night, thinking of a pair of lips that shape into a grin that resembles a box of sunlight.

By the third month, you are returning to him on a weekly basis, starting to count your trips to the other side of the world on the notepad that sits beside his desk calendar. One strike, one arrival. Twenty-one in total.

But when you sit on the balcony of his apartment on the morning of your twenty-second visit, relaxed against the white metal of an intricately designed chair made for gardens – though Taehyung has never really been one to follow the stereotypical constructs of general living – ankles crossed and the breeze tickling your cheeks, you peel back a layer of Taehyung that reveals more of the shadowed truth tucked beneath. Although he is seemingly an open book, the sentences are scrawled in a never-ending labyrinth and you are still running endless sprints to reach the centre.

Sometimes, you think he may never let you make it.

The foliage pressed up against the railing lessens the intensity of the sunlight, the final threads of spring evident in the flowers that blossom from their respective pot plants, the leaves of the curling vines a brilliant shade of green. A complete juxtaposition to home, where emerald is near its end, falling dead to be crunched beneath the soles of feet on footpaths, leaving the trees to be skeletons, stark and bare. Tea steams between your palms in a dainty porcelain cup, and it is one of the many things in life that you have learned Taehyung greatly indulges in. It is a beautiful day, not too warm, nor too chilly, perfect for you to arrive in a thin, long-sleeved floral dress that makes Taehyung grin all the brighter when you surprise him by suddenly barrelling into the small dining table, feet still tingling.

Although the professional wear that you met him in, you come to discover that he has a preference for casual, slack clothing in the form of loose canvas shirts and baggy trousers. If anything, it makes him more handsome, a natural state of his that you adore, and that you realise with time, you are the only one who gets to see. It is easy for the idol image to slip away and dissolve into thin air when his celebrity status does not reach your local news, the hot gossip in the magazines, only sighted in a rare episode of this or that, which airs on the international channel. In your eyes, he is not the famous Kim Taehyung, even if he remains to be a brilliant star that lights up your navy, midnight skies.

You keep your eyes trained on the small sparrow that flits about the gutters of the building on the opposite side of the street, swallowing your nerves. Hesitancy clings to your tongue, making you cringe when you speak.

“Can I ask you something?”

Taehyung sniffs, and you try to remain casual, taking another sip of the delightful, lukewarm liquid. Today, it is ginger. “Don’t tell me you want to make hoeddeokagain?”

Almost choking on your tea, you sputter into the cup. “No, oh my god. Definitely no.”

The both of you would have thought making pancakes was an easy task, except you drastically proved yourselves wrong last month by accidentally confusing the salt to be the pot of sugar, and ultimately leaving thehoeddeok to burn near black on the griddle after becoming distracted by a song on the radio that Taehyung insisted – although he always says it was you, in fact – that you both dance to. No amount of cinnamon and honey could have saved such a disaster.

“Tell me, then. I am, as you Westerners say, all ears.”

Although you laugh, the nerves start to resurface, demanding to be known. So the only thing you can possibly do is command to his word – tell him.

“Don’t get me wrong when I say that I adore your apartment–” You tug at a thread that hangs loose at the hem of your dress, chewing the inside of your cheek– “But I thought, with your fame, that you would be walking on marble floors and have a mansion entrance guarded by real life tigers, y’know?”

Bringing a standstill to your fretting fingers, his own curl around your knuckles, and when you stray your eyes from the small bird that still flutters about, you discover that he is not looking at you. A sigh silently shudders from between your lips.

“So I guess what I am saying is… Why don’t you? Why do you prefer it here?”

Stretches of silence pass, an unnerving quiet made less tense by the commotion of the street below, the gentle singing of the birds. Your only relief is found in the matter that he still holds your hand, thumb grazing over the tops of your knuckles.

“I think,” Taehyung begins, unravelling your balled up fist so he can study your nails, chipped and imperfect. “I don’t live in a place like that because that’s what everyone expects. They all… Envisage me owning a great, luxurious home in Gangnam-gu, a place so large that it holds more space than life.” As if deeply entranced by the design of your cracked cuticles, he inspects them closer, voice lowering to a murmur. “So I live here because it is quiet and homely. Rarely anybody finds me, and heavy lawsuits get involved if my personal address is publicly spread, which nobody can afford to face since I have not wasted all of that money on granite countertops and– Hold on, real tigers? What kind of cruel person do you think I am?”

When he speaks the final sentence with a cheeky smirk, your stiff posture relaxes into a gentle chuckle, and he at long last looks up at you, wanting to catch sight of your smile, luminescent in the golden rays of the sun that filter through the foliage. His answer deems your suspicions correct, since his apartment is just so helplessly and wholeheartedly Taehyung in its homing of unusual figurines and sculptures that he attains on his adventures to markets, in the furniture from the cream couch to the emerald gramophone that ceases to match anything else in the room, in its cosiness and love that tucks between the floorboards and seeps through the wall plaster. You could see his television personality residing in an impressive manor – but Taehyung, the genuine, real man that you have grown to know and understand, blends with his apartment as if he were made of the coasters stacked upon on the coffee table and the magnets that tack loose leaflets and notes to the fridge.

“True, this place is very you,” You mumble, noticing how much larger, longer his fingers are that wrap around your own. He has made a habit out of holding your hand, something that, at first, had rose petals dusting your cheeks until it became so normal that you barely think twice about it. “I think that may be why I like it so much.”

“That’s good,” Taehyung nods, the smile only faint on the corners of his lips now. “I don’t want people to befriend me, love me, because of my fame.”

The way the words casually fall from his tongue is like an afterthought, yet the true meaning suddenly chills you to the bone, heavy lead that weighs down on your heart out of sympathy. It truly must be so difficult to be in such a situation, never knowing if the man at that bar buys you a drink out of friendliness or out of hopes for a much greater repayment, or if the girl that scrawls her number on your palm has interest or dollar signs shining in her eyes. The pair of you, although experiencing drastically polar opposite circumstances, are more alike than you both realise – isolated by matters that neither of you can help, living in a world viewed through a kaleidoscope, rather than the clear lenses of others. Like a moth to a flame, it selfishly draws you closer to him because he understands, and nobody that you have met outside of your family has sat in the same perspective as you before.

The air suddenly feels too thick, an uncomfortable tension settling on your skin until you decidedly shrug it off. “Well, I guess it’s not every day that you get so lucky to have a random girl who has not a clue of your social status suddenly appear in your apartment, wearing your clothes.”

“More like an incredibly cute girl.”

Although his lungs produce the language of his native tongue, you manage to grab onto one of the words, fluttering warmth in your chest and probably on your cheeks as well – but Taehyung is long used to your bashful blushing. He finds it absolutely endearing.

Raising a brow at him, you playfully dig your nails into the skin of his palm. “Did you just call me cute?”

He winces at that sharp stabs and then grins like a wolf.

“Maybe your Korean is worse than we thought.”

29.09.2017 → V53

If this is what falling in love feels like, then you have leapt from the edge of that cliff, your body weightless in the stretches of air that separate you from the oceans below, never reaching the waves, an eternal drop as the distance grows greater and greater.

It was never really something that you ever considered. Love was a faraway land that your feet never reached, at least, not until you learned to control their sporadic ways of travelling. So when you began to feel butterfly wings stir within your chest from the day Taehyung started to embrace you upon your arrival, sweeping you into his arms and murmuring a gentle what took you so long? into the strands of your hair, you began to figure that maybe, on a feeble limb of hope, he may possibly feel the same way about you too.

Arriving today is much the same, except your seam glides you right into the bathroom, bracing your palms on the vanity before you manage to slip on the wet tiles. Droplets of perspiration still stream down the glass of the shower, and you urgently tame your mind to not think about Taehyung and his golden skin, glistening from the cold water that barely manages to soothe the humidity of Seoul, even near the end of summer. It is only then that you reconcile the thick coat that you wear, groaning and desperately trying to roll the fabric off of your already sweating skin, trying not to think too hard about the plastic bags overflowing with food and house supplies that you had just abandoned in the parking lot of the supermarket back where morning was still rising.

“You’re not a burglar, right?”

At his distant shout, you huff and roll your eyes before escorting yourself out of the bathroom, draping your coat over his desk chair and then poking your head into the living space. The familiar pang of lightheadedness overwhelms you at the sight of him, as usual, golden hair already dry and slightly curling in the heat, a loose white shirt draping from his shoulders, denim blue shorts slack on his hips. When he spots you, the dazzling box grin is revealed, completely blinding you before he is making his way over, enveloping your smaller frame into his body and giving you a tight squeeze that feels better than home.

Taehyung rocks you side to side, humour lilting his tone. “What took you so long?”

“It has only been two days,” You mildly comment, though you understand. Even an hour without him is starting to feel like years have passed.

Chuckling, Taehyung leans back to look down at you, mirth swallowing his beautiful, dark eyes and you swear that underneath their gaze, you would abide by any of his words. You would murder a small village for him if he asked you to do so while staring at you like that. Speaking figuratively, of course.

“Two days too long,” He chimes, and if anything, his grin spreads wider. “Hey, so I have an idea–“

But suddenly, you can no longer take it, pressing your palms against his chest and pushing yourself away from him. Something akin to worry, concern, glances across his features until you are speaking words that have him absolutely cackling.

“I’m sorry but it is so fucking hot – Oh my god, you were suffocating me. I am going to die from moving from one temperature extremity to the next!”

Through his laughter, the kind that normally fills you with waterfalls elation, Taehyung gasps. “Y-Your face … It’s so hilarious when y-you’re mad.” And then, regaining some of his stability, he wipes at his eyes, trying not to sputter at the way you dramatically fan your face. “There is a dress hanging up next to the coats, go put that on.”

Stumbling out a thank you, your feet cannot carry you to his wardrobe quick enough, instantly finding the white fabric and yanking it from the hanger. Taehyung, still chuckling to himself, returns to the living room for your privacy while you change, not even having the chance to notice how pretty the garment is until you have urgently peeled off your jeans and sweater and adorned the material on your figure. He had taken to buying you clothes within a month of you arriving, realising that your seasons were completely opposite, so you would either arrive boiling hot or freezing your toes off. Spring and autumn are a period of peace that accustom to your not too heavy, but not too light selection of fashion. Tying your hair up into a loose bun, you heave a sigh of exasperation at how ridiculously humid the place feels, almost missing the ice that clings to the air back home before Taehyung calls out are you ready?

Placing your clothes with the coat, you drag your feet out of the bedroom, collapsing onto the cream sofa beside Taehyung. He hands you a glass of water after appreciatively eyeing the dress he picked out and you gulp it down within three seconds, not missing the impressed expression that holds his features before they soften into humble excitement.

“So, my plan.” He waggles his eyebrows, and you raise your own to the ceiling as a means to let him continue on. “I know we haven’t tried it yet, and I know you’re concerned about doing so. But I was kind of wondering if, um–“ The hesitancy that skirts his voice has you unnerved, wondering what he could possibly be thinking of until– “You want to come outside to the markets with me?”

Oh.

Taehyung was right, the idea of leaving his flat over the past seven months was a concept that had restless fear knotting in your stomach. You itched to see the outside world of his city, yet it was too risky, too troublesome with your situation of being the living embodiment of a spontaneous disappearing act, unassisted by the fact that he has a face known by the majority of the South Korean population, which will garner even a greater crowd of attention that you most certainly do not need.

“I mean you don’t have to,” He quickly says after your silent pause, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling a face. “But it’s dark out, so if anything were to, uh, happen – nobody would really see? Actually, forget it. I’m sorry, it is such a stupid idea–“

“Like a date?”

Your abrupt words make his jaw go slack, gaping at you in sheer surprise before he smacks his lips shut. A tiny, delighted smirk forms soon after. “If you want it to be, I guess?”

“Okay, let’s go then,” You shrug with a smile, trying to be indifferent, but your fingers quiver and shake, not with the need to escape but with the desperation to be right here, right now, about to experience this with him.

And you are not sure if he notices the tremble of your knuckles, but he takes your hands anyway, squeezing them reassuringly with a grin that sears light and adoration through your heart, repeating your words.

“Let’s go.”

Seoul, you discover, is breathtakingly beautiful.

The view that you had from Taehyung’s apartment never really did the city any justice. Truly, it displayed how busy the streets could get, how lively the stalls that lined the road once a month could become, but viewing the scenery from above could never entirely compare to the feeling of being immersed within it.

The air is much better outside, not as dense, cramped like it was within the apartment. You feel like you can truly breathe through the summer heat out here, exhilaration pumping through your veins as Taehyung takes you through the apartment building, holding your hand once you get into the elevator and never letting it go, not even when you reach the markets that create volume and a warm ambience down by the Han River. As a means to distort his identity, he wears a black cotton face mask that you decide suits him, makes his large, almond eyes all the more expressive as he chatters about each stall, teaches you about the ingredients in the many delicious foods, delights when you try on the traditional hanbok with a skirt in a beautiful shade of rose. It matches your cheeks, he idly comments, and as if to prove his point, they flush all the more fiercely.

After dining on kogi mandu, the most delicious dumplings to have ever graced your tastebuds, the pair of you simply stroll along, enjoying the amiable atmosphere, interlaced hands swinging between you. A few curious glances are made in your general direction at the man who, although his mask, still attains an extraordinarily attractive quality about him, that most likely rises a question of familiarity within their thoughts, but they do not make any comment, no means to interrupt your ‘date’.

When the rows of stalls start to thin out, Taehyung gently squeezes your hand, voice muffled by the mask, yet you can see the smile in his eyes. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s phenomenal,” You murmur, eyes wandering around the vibrant atmosphere, mouth watering at the delicious concoction of street market flavours and aromas. “I am falling in love with it, I may just have to pack up my stuff and move here.”

“I would like that,” He hums, nudging at your shoulder and erupting a fresh wave of joy within you, learning that he adores your presence just as much as you do with his own. But then, he starts to guide you closer to the river, seating you both at a park bench that looms in solitude within the pale light of the moon, the glowing edge of the markets. “My parents would always bring me here as a child. There was a Japanese vendor back then, so we would buy takoyaki and eat it by the river – me, with my banana milk, and my parents with their tiny glasses soju. It was long before I started auditioning for entertainment companies, sometimes I wonder where I would be if I had never received the encouragement from them to do so.”

The way that Taehyung talks about his parents is so heartwarming, fond, that you cannot help but ask him. “Do they still live in the city?”

And like the flick of a switch, his eyes harden to ice, and you feel regret suddenly drop like lead into your stomach. The kind of uncertain fear that happens when you think you are close with someone, but cross an invisible barrier that you had not a clue they put up between you.

“No, they don’t,” are the only words that Taehyung mutters, glassed eyes distantly watching the moonlight shimmer on the surface of the river.

In a moment of bravery, biting your nerves at the jugul

{first anniversary drabbles}

Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Genre:Serial Killer AU so the warnings are pretty obvious.

Count: 1,932 words.

Kim Taehyung is a soul who takes the utmost delight in the simplest aspects of everyday life.

The way that a breeze curls its airy fingers beneath dying leaves, lifting them from the side road gutters for the briefest of moments, providing them a final dance before settling them back into their bitumen graves. How steam rises from the lip of a mug, curling against the setting of an ambient cafe, disturbed in its twirl by the passing of a child scrambling to their impatient mother or a waitress briskly strutting to their next table. The headlights that beam on a lone road, washing yellow luminescence over structures that are merely nothing more than distorted shadows when succumbed to the darkness, revealing them to be a postbox, a stray cat, a couple stumbling home on drunken soles.

How easily a knife can puncture pearl smooth skin, as effortless as easing a blade through softened butter, creating streams of crimson that texture the lines of his palms for days in beautiful mosaics of varying intensity, in the sole vivacity of life itself.

Taehyung delights in that the absolute most.

The highway is deep blue tonight. He hates such a colour, in all of its placid depth, its calm coolness. It chills him to the very bone, icy and cruel with its teeth sinking deep into his flesh in an unpleasant bite. Nothing alike to the warmth of red, crackling flames that ignite his heart, smoothing over the goosebumps that raise mountains along his arms, melding the joints of his knuckles into something gentle, easy.

Taehyung knows that it is time for somebody new. He misses the comfort he finds in vivid rose rivers.

Red is his signature. No other colour on the spectrum more lovely than the endless shades of ruby, scarlet, cherry, merlot. The Red Runner – it highlighted newspaper headlines, defined his articulate style of painting each of his victims in the marrow of their existence. Society thought it disgusting, cruel, but he knew they saw the irony, the juxtaposition of inverting what flows through their hearts, what gives them the ability to survive being exhibited in the most wonderful of masterpieces on the surface of their skin rather than being hidden in all of its beauty underneath.

Murder and blood coexist like jam and cream. Compliments to one another, vivacious, the balance between life and death. Taehyung adores such simple harmony.

He finds her at 12:08AM with battered sneakers, a stuck out thumb on the same desolate road he has been driving for hours in quiet contemplation, trying not to think too hard about the blue that consumes his vehicle in abhorrent seas. The static of the radio has only just sufficed to calm his twitching nerves, along with the occasional thump in his boot when a tyre dips in a pothole, releasing the tame scent of iron and salt, of fresh rotting. He admits he dislikes the stench, but anything is better than the taste of blue.

Taehyung eases his foot on the brake when her figure forms in the spotlight of his high beam, dimming it to a neutral glare when he notices her shielding a palm against her eyes, a face that is oddly familiar in the stark contrast of bright light against shadows. A smile flickers before she steps out of the spotlight that he shines upon her, becoming one with the moving darkness until the passenger door is clicking open, the paleness of the interior bulb creating a glow that fleshes out her expression – the slope of a nose, the curve of pink lips, the recognition settling deep within his being but he cannot, for the life of him, remember where he may have known her, long foreign to human connection, relationships. She was wedged in a past endowed in silks of pearl white.

“Mind if I catch a ride?” She hums, but her voice, although a sweet tune, holds no familiar ring to his ears. When his gaze flicks down to her sweater, he notices it is a thick navy ocean. Hideous.

She will most definitely do.

Taehyung, with his award winning smile, lights up the confined space when he reveals his teeth in a grin that hides murder between the cracks. “Sure, hop on in! Where are you headed?”

“The next city over, but if you’re not travelling that far, any distance further than walking from here will do,” She beams right back at him, absolutely delighted, folding her limbs into the passenger seat as the door swings shut. He waits for her to buckle in before he revs the engine, turning back into the lifeless lane and continuing on in the aimless direction he had been travelling until it was officially labelled the next city over.

He knows they will barely make it out of this one before he can stop himself.

“Perfect, that is precisely where I am going,” Lies taste kind on his tongue, tangling with ease through the sentences he voices. He is so at home with such deceptions that they feel like the truth. “It is quite a drive, so we may as well become acquainted. My name is Jinyoung.”

“Y/N,” The girl answers immediately, and alongside her voice, the name holds no familiar presence within his memory. Yet her appearance haunts him like the ghosts he has pulled from carcases, drawn from teeth and bone. An itch that burns somewhere he cannot scratch.

“That’s a pretty name,” He compliments nonchalantly, not missing the roses that graze her cheeks. “What is a young girl like you doing out this late at night, nonetheless hitchhiking? It’s a dangerous world, nowadays.”

Her fingers, as if on instinct, curl tighter into the canvas knapsack that lays mostly limp on her lap. She has not packed much, it seems. Her belongings will be easy to discard of. “A dangerous world belonged in my apartment with my boy– No. Ex-boyfriend now, I guess.”

“Ah, I see,” Taehyung hums, nodding, fixated on black horizon. “You can never trust men. They are wicked evil.”

“Indeed they are, Kim Taehyung.”

For an instant, he does not notice the three syllables he has honed since birth, a name he has not spoken to her laced in a knot on the tip of her tongue. But by the time it has registered, a flashing lightbulb, no, a beacon of warning flaring in vicious red, he can already taste the cold circumference of metal kissing his temple.

“I never thought you were one to pick up lonely girls on highways. Have you become that desperate?”

He sees her now, dusty newspaper clippings crumpled in the faraway corners of his mind, once nothing to be concerned with but now the greatest of dangers. Her familiarity was in crowds, was in the stranger that accidentally knocked his elbow on the street and mumbled an apology, was in the girl waiting in line behind him at that cafe, watching on from the corner of a crossroad, curiously gazing from across a sunlit park.

But he had traversed entire lands.

She had followed him everywhere, it seemed. For weeks, months.

A shadow of blue that he never once paid mind to because such a colour was distasteful. And now it will have him dead.

“I have been watching you for a very long time,” She murmurs, caressing the edge of his jaw with the cold mouth of the gun, and he remains motionless. “Observing your every movement, analysing your methods. I know that the missing girl from last Tuesday is in pieces within this car trunk, I can smell her.”

Taehyung swallows, frowning. He is not sure if what he can feel in his chest is fear, but it sure as hell crushes his lungs like two large fists, squeezing tight. “How did you know I would pick you up?”

“Well, I guess I am just lucky. Pull over, Taehyung.” And he easily abides her command, throat dry, palms slipping against the leather of the steering wheel. “Get out of the car. Don’t consider disobeying, because either way, I will shoot you dead without any hesitation. We are both murderers, you see.”

Taehyung takes his time unbuckling, stepping out of the car, and she patiently awaits him, the barrel never misdirecting its aim from the places on his body that matter most. They walk a slow pace into the shadows, and it is truly a silent night, no other headlights washing over their spectacle. Just pure darkness, watching on with anticipation.

“What’s your motive?” He bluntly stalls.

“To kill those who kill,” She grins, and it is terribly beautiful. “Besides, I was offered a bounty on your head. No hard feelings, I just need to pay my rent in time.”

He could fight her, lunge when she least expects. But no, no she held skill in the firm set of her jaw, the confident curl of her knuckle around the trigger. She was experienced, just like he, a cold blooded killer that knew him in refined dot points that held elusive detail, whereas, for him, she was merely a face and a gun. A death sentence.

It is pointless, but he tries anyway.

Gunfire, he decides, sounds frightening. Especially when it lodges in a silver bullet right beside his heart, feeling anything but warm, a dagger of ice. Horrendously blue.

Taehyung meets the bitumen in a sickening crunch, a broken nose and scraped kneecaps, falling face first with no support, just a brutal slam that he hardly feels because he is being swallowed by the blue that seeps out of the bullet. It suffocates him, screaming in his ears, so loud, that he barely hears her stepping towards him, can only just feel her fingers digging into his shoulder to turn him onto his back. The stars pinwheel around her placid expression, rather beautiful, he thinks. A fine sight to see before he dies.

“Can you feel that? The slowing of your heart?” She whispers, placing her palm gently against his chest, and it feels like it belongs there. Her gaze remains on his eyes, glassing with every passing second. “It is like a tiny bird, fluttering in its precious nest of bones. So frail and desperate, wishing to continue on. You have murdered so many flightless beings.”

His throat feels like cotton, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. A vignette of unconsciousness threatens the corners of his vision, framing the cock of her head, the inquisitive look in her eyes as she watches him fade beneath her fingertips. She appears almost childlike in her form of innocence, a virgin to his death. Everyone looks different when they die, as life slips away like oil on a smooth surface, but always, always, they appear so beautiful. Taehyung has no qualms that he looks precisely the same, he can see it reflected in her wondrous eyes.

“Life is beautiful, it is colourful, a rainbow of hues that are as divine in their individual shades than they are in side by side unity.” She is nothing but a blur now in sight, though her voice carries him through the frosted glass of his vision. “But you, Kim Taehyung, were obsessive. Red, albeit lovely, is merely a speck in the colour wheel of this world. You let it consume you, control you, and now here you lay.”

Taehyung smiles, his eyes droop close. And for the first, the last time, in his life, he decides that blue is maybe not so bad after all.

It is much less terrifying than eternal black.

➭“You are at the very top of your college cohort, an A grade student on the fast track to a life of success. You know the answers to everything, or at least you think you do. That is until you meet quirky genius Kim Taehyung.”

• pairing: taehyung x reader
  
• genre: smut, fluff, college au, college rivals au, librarian!tae
  
• wordcount: 15k
  

❀ 3 / 8 of my oneshot requests❀

You can still remember the moment you first laid eyes on Kim Taehyung. 

It had been any other day – you sitting at your desk squinting down at your papers, waiting for your subject tutor to arrive, while your classmates chattered around you.

The door had crashed open, which in itself was odd because half of the doors in your college were old and it was a known fact to proceed with caution. Your head had jerked up, wondering which idiot had the audacity to make an entrance like that.

And there, in the doorway, stood Taehyung. 

He was wearing a huge cardigan, one that had scattered lumps of wool throughout, as if someone had been in the middle of knitting it and lost focus. Underneath a thin black tee clung to his frame. He had wide legged pants on and wire frame glasses, a stark contrast to the other guys in your class who dressed identically in black skinny jeans and polo tees. 

He had stood there with his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked as if he was there judging everybody else, like you were all the new kids up for evaluation, not him. 

He oozed with a quiet calm and a quiet cool that seemed way toocity for a small town like yours.

“Hey,” He said, his face straight and composed. His voice echoed with timber, rich and velvet. His eyes landed on yours, his eyebrow quirked, just a fraction.

Enough to have you glancing down, swallowing hard and realizing with a sharp clarity that your throat was dry. 

You only glanced up again when you heard the sound of his footsteps, him, working his way around the room to find a seat. He sat at the only empty one, near Kim Namjoon and his friends. He slouched in his seat, pulling a laptop out of his bag (a battered black one that had a peeling sticker of a corgi on it) and he yawned. You hated that you noticed, but you did. 

As if he was sensing your gaze, he craned his neck around and smiled at you. 

You glared and his grin only widend, as if somehow your clear distaste for him only spurred him on more. 

You didn’t know how to describe the encounter, jarring and strange and oddly intriguing, all at once. 

You definitely didn’t know how to describe him either. 

So instead, you stared down at the stack of books in front of you, at your diary, filled to the brim with to-do lists and studying tasks, and you told yourself to stop being distracted by the strange new transfer student who was introducing himself to everyone as ‘Kim Taehyung but call me Tae’.  

Back then, Taehyung had been mildly interesting to you. Someone your eyes flickered to, a voice that you picked out amongst the chatter of your classmates. 

Taehyung is unlike anyone you had met before- and your weren’t alone in your initial curiosity. Taehyung quickly attracted a wide circle of friends, from Kim Namjoon who ran the college newspaper, to Kim Seokjin who was a quarterback on the football team. 

Still, you steadily ignored the stirrings of intrigue in your chest and told yourself to ignore him, the boy who was likely just another guy on the path to graduate college as soon as possible while putting in the least amount of effort possible.

That was until Wednesday of that week. 

It had been a hot day, the kind of day where the sunlight filtered into the room and the air seemed thickened with a slow laziness. Even your brain felt stiffer than usual, and your subject tutor stifled a few yawns mid discussion, echoing the sentiments of the drowsy room. Still, your subject tutor was pushing on, much to everybody’s chagrin.

“…So can anyone see the logical fallacy in this argument? Anyone?” 

Your tutor looked around the class and his eyes fell on you, waiting patiently. You always knew your answers, you always knew your content- but your mind was blank, stubbornly so, and you glanced down at your notebook for answers 

“The logical fallacy is in the argument’s use of circular reasoning.“ A voice piped up calmly.

The voice belonged to Kim Taehyung. Kim Taehyung who was slouched all over his chair, his laptop sitting on his desk, wearing one of the strangest outfits you had ever seen (a vibrant patterned shirt and those same wide leg pants, like he was some kind of bougie office worker on the top half, bohemian street performer on the bottom half). 

Your head had snapped over to him, he was blinking slowly and lazily, like a kitten basking in the sunlight, his hair falling into his forehead, his eyes glimmering in the apricot glow of the mid-summer heat.

Your jaw had dropped open. Your subject tutor pressed on, peppering Taehyung with questions, all of which he effortlessly answered. 

And all that while you stared, feeling for the first time, an unfamiliar prickle in your chest of what you decided had to be competitiveness.

It had become evident after that, that Kim Taehyung is something of a genius.

You had become accustomed to breezing through your classes, being the only one to stay back afterwards and press your lecturers and tutors for more content, more material. You had happily settled into the role of number one amongst your college cohort. 

That was until Taehyung threw a spanner into the works. 

He is completely different to you- relaxed in his approach to everything, laidback in how he goes about his studies. And all semester, he remains right there behind you, number two to your number one. 

He’s been a presence, something that weighed lightly on your mind. But it wasn’t until you scheduled a meeting with your college careers counsellor and enquired about the grad program you had been dreaming of since your freshman year that Taehyung evolved from a slightly irritating presence to a full blown threat. 

‘Well, there actually is another contender for the grad program,’ Your careers counsellor had said after a moment of hesitation.

The grad program you were pursuing was highly competitive, only ever taking in one student from your community college per year. 

You had been a shoo in for the program all year, the sole candidate.

That was until, of course, transfer student Kim Taehyung had become part of the equation.

“… Personally, I think that physicalism is a good ontological acconunt for the philosophy of the mind. Consciousness, the mind and the soul are purely physical.”

You rattle off your words assertively, folding your arms over your chest. It’s the last of your classes before the summer break, and your surrounding classmates. inclusive of you, are eager for this compulsory capstone philosophy subject to be over and for the summer holidays to begin.

Your tutor hums in agreement. “An interesting argument. Does anyone have a differing argument?” 

The class is silent, and you smile in satisfaction. 

A voice clears, the sound of a cough, a body shifting in its chair. You glance up to see Taehyung lifting an arm straight in the air.

“…Well actually, I personally think that dualism is a better stance on the philosophy of the mind. I think it makes more sense logically to conclude that the mind is made up of an immaterial substance. Plus… I believe that you can’t explain the concept of a soul in purely physical terms.”

Your eyes narrow and you fold your arms across your chest.

“Also a good argument.” Your tutor nods tiredly, glancing up at the clock. “Okay, well-”

“Well. Just for the record. I disagree with that view.”

Your words come out a touch harsher than you had hoped. Taehyung’s eyes meet yours, his gaze is thoughtful before he shrugs, an easygoing smile falling on his face.

“I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree, then.”

A long silence hangs between the two of you

“…Okay, well. That’s all we’ve got time for today.” Your tutor interrupts, the class immediately dissolving into conversation and the sounds of textbooks being packed away. 

You push back on your chair and grab your books, feeling your cheeks flush scarlet in embarrassment. 

You are out of the class when you hear Taehyung behind you, hear his voice calling out your name. 

“That was fun,” He smiles at you, an airy, effortless smile and he’s all floaty and relaxed while you’re annoyed and seething. “We should study together or something during the summer break.”

“You’re applying for the grad program, right?” You ask in a short, clipped voice and you see surprise register over his features. He nods, cocking his head.

“Yeah, how did you-”

“So, you’re my competition,” You say bluntly, and you immediately notice the flicker of amusement in Taehyung’s eyes, pick up on the way his lips quirk in the corners (because you always notice when it comes to Kim Taehyung, as much as you have tried not to). 

“I don’t think studying together would be a good idea.” 

You whirl around on your heel and stride away, squeezing your eyes together in embarrassment. You had thought in your head that the words would come out scathingly, but instead you sound petulant and unconvincing. 

You wonder fleetingly what Taehyung thought of that interaction, of your words and then you practically running away from him. 

You shake your head and try to tell yourself it doesn’t matter what Taehyung thinks of you, that Taehyung himself doesn’t matter at all. 

Still, no matter what you tell yourself, the truth remains the same. 

There’s just something about Kim Taehyung that just gets to you.

You walk into your local library in the late afternoon on the second day of your summer break. Your local library stays open late into the evenings during college summer breaks, and tends to be much quieter than the library on campus. 

Therefore – it’s the ideal place to study.

“Hello,” a voice greets you, a familiar voice that gives you pause. You glance up to see none other than Kim Taehyung sitting at the chipped wooden librarian’s desk, your surprise mirrored on his face before he recovers it quickly.

“Well,” Taehyung says lightly, his voice imbued in sarcasm. “If it isn’t my competition.” 

He’s wearing a button up shirt with sleeves that extend past his hands, you watch as he pushes up on the hems of his sleeves, cocking his head to one side as he gives you a wry smile. His hair is shaggy, falling into his eyes, which are covered in a pair of wire frame rectangular glasses.

“Oh,” You stammer out, your eyes widening slightly. “What’re are you doing here?”

Taehyung just quirks an eyebrow, he leans forward and taps at the small plaque on the desk. The plaque reads, Junior Librarian: Kim Taehyung.

“You work here?” You repeat awkwardly, he nods. 

“Yep, I do the night shifts. Good way to get some extra money, and well, working in a library is actually a lot of fun. I get free books.”

He smiles at you, a small smile, something of a peace offering. You stare at him for a long moment.

“Oh,” You say dumbly, “Right. Good for you.” 

You clear your throat, ignoring the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag on your shoulder. 

“I’m gonna…” Your voice trails off and you nod, turning on your heel and quickly sitting down on one of the nearby desks. You pull out your books, your pens, placing them out neatly in front of you.

You glance up to see Taehyung gazing at you, a faint smile tugging on his lips. An olive branch in the shape of a barely there smile. 

You smile back, it pulls at the corner of your lips before you can stop yourself. The two of you sit there – you at your desk, him at his – before you finally tear your eyes away and look down at the work in front of you, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly.

After that, you see Kim Taehyung every day.

You have no idea when it started to become daily routine, going to the library and being greeted by none other than ‘Junior Librarian Kim Taehyung’. 

Your daily routine goes as follows: Each day, at the end of the afternoon, you make your way to your local library to squeeze in a few hours of productive study. Each time, you spot Taehyung behind the librarian’s desk. He looks up, he smiles at you, and you sit at the same table, bring out your books, and try to focus on the work in front of you and no the librarian sitting only a few metres away.

When it’s well and truly night time, and the library is sparse save for a few dedicated college students, Taehyung strolls over and strikes up conversation. 

Sometimes Taehyung’s shifts stretch until late night close, and he’ll come and sit opposite you, going through lists of people with overdue books, his knee restless as he taps his pen against the sheets of paper he’s rifling through.

Other times, when Taehyung finishes his shift early, he sits opposite you, sometimes studying himself, sometimes buried in the pages of a book. He always looks so utterly wrapped up in the books he reads, poking his head up and out of the pages to tell you in a rushed voice ‘You have to read this book, here, I’ll write it down for you, you have to read it!’ 

And as much as you don’t want to, as much as you didn’t expect it, never expected it - you find yourself thawing, your guard lowering… until you quietly admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, Taehyung isn’t so bad after all.

“Hey,” Taehyung complains, lifting his head from where it was resting in his arms. “I’m bored.”

You twist your lips, roll your eyes disdainfully. Shoot him a cold-eyed stare that has most people cowering. Taehyung of course, is not most people, and just blinks back at you stubbornly.

“I’m bored,” Taehyung repeats, and you sigh.

“I dunno, do something then. Get a hobby, read a book. I dunno.”

Taehyung leans back on his chair, tilts his head to one side, clicks his tongue.

“Speaking of books. Have you read the books I recommended you yet?”

You are frowning down at the page in front of you, deep in the throes of trying to read up on research material for one of your classes. Distractedly, you shake your head.

“Not yet.”

“Why not? They’re really good, honest. Cross my heart.” You glance up to see Taehyung with his hand over his chest, an innocent smile on his face. 

You roll your eyes.

“I don’t have time to read right now, Taehyung.” You tell him in as condescending of a tone as you can manage. 

Taehyung just leans forward, resting his chin in his hands.

“You should always make time for the things that make you happy.” He says sagely, and you roll your eyes, leaning forward and poking him with your pen.

“Yeah yeah, who are you, Oprah?”

Taehyung ignores your question and you sense him staring at you.

“How come you study so hard all the time?” He prods.

You hesitate, staring pointedly at the page. You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, but you stop it. Instead, you write down a few words, biting your lip.

“It was family pressure at first,” You say finally, you cross out a word you have written and write a new one beside it. Taehyung is silent. “But now? I don’t know. I guess I want to prove it to myself as badly as I want to prove it to them.” You still don’t look at Taehyung, but you stop writing. Your pen hovers above the paper. 

“Well. I look up to that a lot. I look up to you a lot.”

“Huh?” You glance up in confusion to see Taehyung staring directly at you. His dark eyebrows are raised slightly in an expression of utter sincerity, his chin still propped up in his hands. 

“You look up to me? Why?” 

Taehyung just shrugs and smiles. 

“Yeah well, you work hard, you’re really dedicated.” He says finally, before he straightens. 

“And you have a good heart. You can’t learn those things, you just… are those things. You know?” He reaches in his bag and pulls out a worn novel, opening it and propping his pen between his lips. 

“Anyway. I look up to you. Even though I’m taller than you.” He adds as an afterthought, pursing his lips before shrugging and focusing his attention on the book in his hands.

“Oh,” You look down at the page and fight the strange lump that’s rising in your throat. “Thanks Tae.”

“Anytime.” Taehyung begins humming to himself, tapping his foot in time to the jazzy melody he’s quietly crooning under his breath. 

You run over his words in your mind, securing them in your thoughts. 

I look up to you a lot.

“What are you smiling about?”

“What?” Your head snaps up to see Taehyung glancing at you curiously.

“You’ve had this weird smile on your face for the last hour. What are you thinking about?”

You feel your cheeks start to heat up, it doesn’t help that Taehyung looks even more intrigued, leaning forward and resting his chin in his palm. 

“What?” He whines, and you shake your head, staring back down at your work, trying to tell your cheeks to stop blushing.

“I, uh, just thinking back to um- a joke my friend told me,” You say finally, lamely. You hope that your vague answer is enough to deter Taehyung from pressing on but instead he just looks even more interested, leaning closer.

“What’s the joke?”

“I- you wouldn’t get it,“

“I wouldn’t get it?” Taehyung repeats, he frowns, a puckish twist of his lips that for some reason has your heart leaping in your chest. “Try me. I have a great sense of humour.”

You flush pink, and shake your head. “No, I don’t-”

“Tell me!” Taehyung props his face in his hands and shoots you an injured look. “Friends tell friends jokes. I feel very offended that you’re withholding jokes from me.” 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times. You are stuck for a moment, not sure what to say – you cant exactly tell him that you were smiling like a giddy idiot because you were thinking, still, about the words he had said to you earlier today – and the first joke that pops into your head comes spilling out of your mouth.

“What do you call a man with no nose and no body?”

You cringe the moment it’s out of your mouth. It’s an old joke, one that you and your family say to each other at every Christmas, when all of you are together in one place. There are a few traditions you have with your family, traditions that hold firm even though you barely get to see them. This terrible joke is one of them and you feel your cheeks start to tinge pink.

“What?” Taehyung asks, he raises an eyebrow at you expectantly.

“…Nobody nose.”

You are blushing in earnest now, your ears feel hot and you can’t believe you just told Taehyung a joke that you and your family say to each other, and Taehyung stares at you. 

His face splits into a smile and it feels like someone’s cracked an egg in your ribcage and the yolk is oozing into your chest, bright yellow and sunny. 

“That is funny,” Taehyung beams at you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes lingering for a prlonged moment before you stare down at your work, telling yourself furiously to not blush don’t you dare blush, and of course, you blush even harder.

Today is one of those days where nothing is going right. 

It’s as if none of the words on the pages sitting on front of you make sense, and no matter how many times, you can’t decipher the mess. 

Your chest is cumulatively getting tighter, more restricted, more bothered, and with each crumpled page of paper, and each slash of black ink, you feel frustration ebb hot and uncomfortable in your body.

“Why the long face?”

You could recognize that voice anywhere, and you don’t glance up, staring at the page, your neat handwriting. You hear fingertips drumming on the table top, the sound of the chair legs squeaking.

“Isn’t today meant to be your day off?” 

Irritation strings through your words, and you feel your fingers ball up into a fist. The words that you’re writing don’t make any sense, and finally, you drag your eyes from paper to the boy sitting opposite you.

Taehyung is watching you, a backpack slouched on the floor by his feet. He looks good- his hair is damp, parted haphazardly. Today he’s dressed in a sweater that seems as if it’s three sizes too big for him.

You feel a heady sort of thrill work it’s way up your chest and into your throat as he stretches his arms above his head, his fingers latching around his elbow as he wriggles his body with a loud yawn.

“I was sick of studying.” He straightens and flashes you a grin, one that while wolfish at the start, quickly softens into a charismatic sweetness that you have come to recognize as a Taehyung signature. “And I wanted to see you.”

Your breath catches at his words. 

He is unfazed, he is stretching again, not realizing that his words were just a touch, a smidgen, too much. 

But Taehyung in a nutshell is a combination of too much, he does everything in abundance and in quantities of too much, and it’s infectious. 

You push back on the desk abruptly, the metallic screech of your chair legs against the floor fill the space between you. You don’t stop to see the question mark that falls over Taehyung’s face.

“Gotta get a book,” You mutter, whirling around on your heel and marching to a quiet corner of the library. You tuck yourself in between two tall shelves, filled with gardening books. As you settle against the cool brick wall, you take a deep breath in.

“Are you alright?” You glance up to see Taehyung standing in front of you, his hands folded tentatively. You don’t respond, and Taehyung takes a step forward, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks.

“Y/N?” He asks in a voice infused with a dulcet tone, and you glance up to see him peering at you with concerned eyes. There’s something in seeing Taehyung gaze at you like this, and you can’t help but imagine what it would be like to having Taehyung looking at you like this more often, all toned down sweetness, hands shoved in pockets and softly probing words.

You don’t think you’re going to speak, you aren’t one to speak or act without properly thinking through each possible step first… but your mouth opens of it’s own accord and words spill out, messy and frantic and rushed.

“I’m frustrated.” 

Taehyung doesn’t react, he just blinks slowly and nods. There’s something in the nuances of his gestures that has your tightly wrapped up emotions unfurling.

“I just feel frustrated,” You continue, your voice is scrambled and you breathe in sharply. “I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel stressed and worried about everything. I feel like a failure. Or I’m going to be one at least. I don’t know, I’m not getting it this morning, I can’t focus, and I just feel…” Your voice trails off uncertainly and you shake your head, your shoulders drooping. “Never mind.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says authoritatively, striding forward. He reaches out and lifts your hand. He presses two fingertips into the flesh of your palm
It’s not as if the impromptu hand massage feels particularly good, but you feel every locked muscle in your body relax. 

Like a plug being pulled, tension drains out of you.

“I know how you feel.” He says, his voice low and sturdy. “It fucking sucks, right? Not knowing why you feel frustrated and useless and uncertain? It sucks. But it’ll pass. Trust me.” He accentuates his words with kneads of his fingers into your palm, rhythmic motions. 

“And if it’s any help… you could never be a failure. No matter what.” His voice, deep in timbre and so quietly convinced, permeates through every last prickle of irritation and you feel a flutter in your chest. 

“Tae…” The word is tiny, murmured out into the air. 

You glance up to see Taehyung staring at you. He is no longer massaging your palm. His fingers curl into yours, before your linked hands fall by your side. This close you can see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes, the freckle on his nose.

The way his eyelashes, almost impossibly thick and dark, flutter just a fraction with each breath. 

You don’t speak. Instead, you lean closer. 

Enough to step further into his proximity- he smells like freshly pressed linen and iced coffee. 

You are still pressed against the wall, the library shelves hugging each side of you. In the background you can hear the quiet tapping of fingers on keyboards, the rustling of papers. And above everything you can feel it under your skin like a skin of electricity. A humming, buzzing warmth. 

Taehyung reaches up and with the pad of his thumb, brushes the underside of your chin. A gesture that is playful and affectionate, so unfitting for this moment, so utterly Taehyung, that you laugh.

In that split second, in that laugh, Taehyung leans in and brushes his lips over yours. A kiss, soft, sweet, slow. You freeze into it, at the sensation of Taehyung’s lips on yours. 

His touch is hesitant and careful, and it’s enough to cause something to perceptibtly snap inside of you as you kiss him back.

Slower, deeper, sweeter, until you feel dizzy and drunk from his lips and his tongue.

Your head tilts into his, your fingers arcing up to rest carefully on his chest. Your fingertips brush the neckline of his jumper and you hear a small noise akin to a sigh in the back of his throat, feel the slight vibration of his chest underneath your palm. 

You can taste him, his lips pressed against yours and his tongue working slow, intense circles against yours. You can smell him, his cologne lingering on his clothes and the scent of his skin. 

He’s not in a rush, kissing you long and hard, and with each passing dip of your heads together, the increasing firmness in which you press your body to his, you feel anticipation start to clamour in your chest. 

You can hear the soft groans pulling from his throat, him shifting his balance from foot to foot as he carefully presses into you in return. 

You can feel him- his kisses, his hands which are working down from beside your breasts to nipping around your waist, hooking around your hips and giving them a careful squeeze. 

Time is suspended, for all you know gravity and space and whatever else is on hold, the only thing that matters, the only thing that holds remote significance is the feeling of Kim Taehyung’s hands mapping the silhouette of your body, his lips and tongue kissing yours. 

You can feel each of his movements deep in between your legs, a dull knock that has your belly squeezing and a flooding heat coursing through your veins. 

You keen your hips into his, rutting desperately against the curve of his fingers wrapped around your hips, grinding against the bulge in his slacks. You feel a dark, wicked satisfaction at the choked groan that Taehyung utters right into your mouth, it slips amongst your kisses which are growing hotter and faster and more desperate. 

Taehyung’s tongue licks over your lips, and he pulls away to press a kiss against your earlobe, his words slurred and throaty in your ear.

“I’m going crazy for you right now.” His voice is confident, his words strained with unmistakable arousal. 

You are all too aware aware of the dampness between your legs and Taehyung’s breath on your ear and the slope of your neck.

“Taehyung…” You whimper out his name in response, a word is coaxed from your lips, a dirty, urgent plea. You slowly roll your hips up into his. You can feel his hard cock straining against his pants and against your underwear. 

It’s uncomfortable, how turned on your are- your legs weak with want and that insistent ache deep in your core. But it also feels good, overwhelmingly good.

Taehyung kisses you hungrily, deeply, and his hands scrabble from your hips to your inner thighs. His fingers are full of intent, they trace long, slow lines up your sensitive skin. He brushes closer and closer to your cotton underwear. 

You dig your thumbs into his hips and relish the way he pushes his cock harder against you with a whine. Your breathing is erratic, a staccato against the steady drumbeat of arousal in between your legs as Taehyung brushes the tips of his fingers against your slit. Your underwear is soaked through, ruined.

Taehyung doesn’t comment but he pulls away from your mouth as his eyes track down to where his hand is, lost under your skirt in between your legs.

Your eyes flutter upwards to see him bite his bottom lip, his eyes flashing in arousal, his jaw clenching as he lets out a soft, barely there, “God.”

Your skirt is bunched up around his arm as he reaches up even more and hooks a finger down around the edge of your underwear. 

Your breath rushes in and you nod, kissing into Taehyung’s neck. Feverish presses of your lips against his skin to mask sounds and mewls from escaping your lips. 

You’re in the fucking library and your mind is quietly telling you to be quiet, but that in itself has you worked up to an unmistakable frenzy. 

His skin is warm and soft and you feel the humof his commanding voice against your lips as he murmurs out your name, his fingers slipping down your underwear.

His fingers graze over your clit generously, and the sensation has your eyes squeezing shut. Taehyung chuckles. His fingers slowly, cleanly slide over your soaking wet folds, before tantalizingly going back up to your clit. 

It feels so good- an immediate relief that is accompanied by a roaring, surging want. You want more. With each careful tease of Taehyung’s long fingers against your slit, against your aching bud, you want more. 

You moan louder against Taehyung’s neck, your teeth catching on his pulse point as you attempt, poorly, to buffer your moans of pleasure. 

Taehyung lowers his head so that his lips are by your ear. 

“You feel so good for me baby.” His voice is deep and his words delicious and you whimper into his skin as you feel his finger teasing at your entrance. 

He slips in until half of his finger is inside of you. Your breath locks in your throat and you feel like your entire body is throbbing, panting, thumping with want.

“Tae,” You breathe out into his neck, your fingers are digging into his back and his shoulder blades, you can feel his muscles rippling underneath your touch, his body wriggling slightly in pleasure. 

“Please.”

Taehyung pushes, until he is knuckle deep inside of you. The knowledge that he is as turned on as you are - arousal staining each of his shallow breaths, the strain of his hard cock against your thigh - has you clenching around his finger.

You tilt your head back against the wall and let out a thinly suppressed groan, and Taehyung takes the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss to your neck. He glides his finger in and out of you, your wetness allowing him to fuck you out with long, smooth motions. 

“Taehyung, please-” You begin breathlessly, and he looks up at you through hooded eyes. You want him, more of him, you can barely think straight, and you watch as he licks his own lips. You begin to slowly thrust against his hand, letting out a small whimper as he pushes his finger even deeper inside of you.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to-”

“Oh my God!’ A voice cuts through your voice and his ministrations and Taehyung stumbles on top of you messily, shielding your body with his. 

“S-s-sorry, continue-” a voice stammers, you spot a glimpse of Taehyung’s colleague’s shocked face, his retreating figure.

Taehyung hastily pulls away from you, and you seize the opportunity to yank down at your skirt. His eyes are wide, his mouth open in a perfect O, and he stares at you in shocked silence. 

A giggle escapes from your lips.

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise and another laugh spills out, you shake your head, trying to control yourself. 

“Sorry,” You begin, your eyes pricking with slight tears as your shoulders shake from a contained giggle. “I shouldn’t be laughing, he’s your co-worker, it’s just…” You suck in for breath and your words tumble out in a fit of giggles. “He looked so scandalized…”

Taehyung’s face lapses into a rueful smile and he runs a hand through his hair, his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Yeah I don’t think he was expecting to see that in the gardening section of the library,” He muses, and you giggle again. 

“He told us to continue on,” You add, and Taehyung’s face splits open into a laugh.

Your laughter fades away, and it is then that you realize that Taehyung is still standing close to you, his arm still curled protectively around your waist. 

You feel fucking delirious, giddy and full. You also feel bold and brave and vibrant, lashes of feelings that you haven’t felt before. 

You swallow. 

A breezy flutter of nerves settles in your stomach but you set your jaw squarely and reach forward. 

Taehyung automatically cradles your hand into his as you open your mouth to pose a question you never thought you would be asking.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

Taehyung is nervous. As are you. 

It’s evident in the conversation that fills your car as you drive to your place, conversation that neither of you are fully focusing on. Taehyung’s talking about the dewey decimal system, you’re nodding and weaving into the conversation with sounds of agreement. 

Honestly, your brain is completely occupied with the fact that Taehyung is in the front seat of your car on the way to your place. 

You have so many thoughts flying through your head- thoughts ranging from oh God why couldn’t I have put on nicer underwear this morning to I can’t believe this is happeningtoI want him so badly I’m going to scream. 

You can sense Taehyung’s own nervous state in the way he keeps clearing his throat and flicking through the small stack of CD’s in your car, it isn’t until you finally pull up outside your place that his hand settles on your thigh and you pause to turn to him. 

He smiles at you and reaches up to nip underneath your chin- a gesture has your chest feeling swollen and your nerves muted.

You head into your place, a small but neatly kept flat, and you take in a deep breath as Taehyung leaves his backpack by the door. He gazes around your place carefully, his attention thoroughly absorbed in his surroundings, and he walks up to you’re a frame hanging on your hallway wall. It’s your award of excellence that you received in your second year of college, a prestigious merit scholarship.

“Wow,” Taehyung breathes out and he turns to you with eyes that are wide and glowy and excited. “This is amazing. You’re so smart.” 

He says the words so earnestly that it has your chest squeezing in a way that is unfamiliar but wonderful, and you open and close your mouth a few times.

“Yeah, I guess,” You reply shyly, before a smile dissolves over your face and you glance up, catching Taehyung’s stare. 

“But you might be the smartest person I’ve ever met,” The words tumble out and you feel a heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. 

“Aside from myself of course.” You stammer out, an add on that softens the edges of your words, and Taehyung’s smile widens.

“Of course.” He teases, his voice lilting slightly.

It’s then that you realize just how close you’re standing to him, your head tilted up to look into his eyes. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you can smell him- he smells like shampoo and sage and cedar, and you swallow. Taehyung’s laugh fades, his eyes dilating and his breathing coming out slower, his eyes locked on you.

The thought of how his lips had felt, pressed on yours, floats back in your mind. Taehyung inches even closer to you, his head dipping closer. 

You breathe in, his eyes search yours, and you feel your heart start to accelerate in your chest.

“Taehyung.” You murmur. His eyes are expressive and you can see in them that he wants you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. 

Your eyes trickle down to his lips, full and slightly parted, and you feel a buzz work it’s way up your belly and settle in your ribcage,as he leans in, centimetres away from your lips, pausing.

In a brief moment, your lips touch. It’s a soft kiss – the merest brushing of lips against lips, timid and careful. Taehyung draws back, his eyes searching your face carefully. 

You can feel it, even in that whisper of a touch – there is something deeply embedded in that kiss.

In an instant, his lips find yours, his hand reaching up to cup your face, his fingers resting on your jaw. 

You have no idea who moved first, and you don’t care, because your eyelids are fluttering shut and you feel yourself getting lost in his kisses. 

For a moment you can’t think, your mind completely blank except for an exhilarating rush of feeling everything all at once- his other hand curving around the small of your waist and giving your hip a squeeze, him deepening into the kiss and dipping his head further down as he kisses deeply into your mouth.

You can hardly think, you can feel a hum running from your toes to your belly to your cheeks, as you loop your fingers around Taehyung’s neck. His skin is warm to the touch, and so soft, as you tangle your fingers in his hair. 

You tug him down further into your kisses, and he lets out a groan into your mouth, pinning you against the wall, trapping you in the heat of his body. You can feel the hard surface against your back and Taehyung’s body pressing into you, his hands slipping up from your hips to your waist before they glide under your shirt. 

His hands are warm, they skim over your belly and rest right under your breasts.

His palms linger, the absence of his touch over your breasts has you filled with an aching, gnawing want. Taehyung arches his hips into yours, and you can feel the stir of his erection in his pants, his hard bulge is pressed against your thigh.

A choked moan is drawn out from your lips. 

“Taehyung…” You break away from the pursuit of his kisses, and Taehyung is undeterred, kisses and nibbles trailing down your neck and causing the smouldering lust crackling over your skin to only intensify.

“Hang on,” You pant out, and Taehyung pauses. His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath labored and potent with lust.

“Not here,” You continue, and Taehyung leans back a touch, nodding. 

“Right,” He breathes, “Should we…?” 

His voice trails off and your eyes hone in on him yet again. His hair is slightly mussed up from your fingers running through them. He is looking at you carefully, waiting for your response. 

In the low light of the hallway, you rake your eyes over his face. The strong set of his jaw, the focus in his eyes, the seriousness of which he is gazing at you, and you feel a ripple of molten and saccharine sweet longing ease it’s way up your belly.

“My room?” You pant out, the word almost sounds like a beg, your voice is hiked with urgency and his lips quirk up at that. 

He nods, then a half-chuckle half murmur, “Your room.” 

He bends down, and scoops you up effortlessly in to his arms. You feel his arms flex underneath you- he’s stronger than you had initially assumed.

“It’s the room to the left, first door there.”

Your hands clutch around his neck and you can feel the frenzy of his pulse underneath your fingers as Taehyung strides towards your bedroom door. He uses his knee to push open the door. Your bedroom is elapsed in darkness, and he works his way across the floor and places you down on your bed. 

Taehyung leans over and flicks your bedside lamp on. The room is filled with a dim light, and he leans backward, rocking on his heels to gaze at you. 

He has a coy smile on his face as he lowers his body on top of yours. Your hands ravel around his waist as his fingers secure around your chin, tilting your face up to meet his lips in a long kiss.

Your thoughts are filled with urgency, a fiery wildness colours whatever reservations you might have had as you hoist your hips upwards, rutting hard into his cock and relishing the groan that Taehyung lets out against your ear. 

“Y/N,” He moans your name into your ear and his fingers curl around the sheets and you feel that same knocking hunger in your core.

Taehyung’s fingers relax, they curl back out against your mattress.

His hand entangles in your hair, before trailing down to your neck, resting obediently on your collarbones. His fingers dance across your skin, tapping a rhythm against your chest. Finally, his fingers begin unbuttoning your shirt. His eyes are narrowed slightly in concentration as he quickly undoes each of the buttons. 

It’s slow, torturously so and with each button that is freed, you feel the air against your skin. His fingers rest against your skin against your breasts and your stomach for brief, lingering seconds as he works the fabric free, and you can’t help the needy whines that escape your lips.

Taehyung smirks at each sound of your want, and when your shirt is finally open, he pulls your body up in one smooth movement. 

He removes your shirt and tosses it on the floor, immediately capturing your lips in a kiss that has you for a long, intense, glorious few seconds- completely breathless. 

It’s just him, his tongue easing its away into your mouth, the curve of his hands between your shoulderblades and gliding to your shoulders. You grip at Taehyung, holding him tighter to you.

You stay sitting upwards as he pulls away from the kiss, his eyes ticking down to roam over your exposed body. His eyes widen, you see his Adams apple bob in his throat. He swallows, hard.

“You’re…” He mumbles, and then he looks up to stare into your eyes. “You’re really beautiful.” 

A blush blooms over your cheeks at his words, at the sincerity in them. Before you can respond, he pulls you to him and kisses you yet again, filling you with liquid heat. 

His thumbs trace right under your breasts and you are quivering. 

You move your body so that you are sitting on top of Taehyung, wrapping your legs around his waist, straddling him. It’s a little awkward shifting into place, but Taehyung’s palms are flat on the small of your back, his fingers curling around your ass as you finally settle. 

Taehyung moans and tilts his hips against you, you can feel his erection straining against his pants as his thumbs work up and finally, finally brush over the curve of your breasts.

You hiss in at the feeling of his thumb over your skin, working closer and closer to your nipples. You press harder against his mouth, grinding with an insistency against his cock. He is still kissing you, hot, heavy, hungry kisses. 

“Taehyung,” You moan out his name, “It feels so good…” 

He leans back to watch your face as his thumb darts right over your hard nipple. His thumb works a slow, lithe circle around your sensitive nipple before his thumb and index finger stroke over it properly. 

The feeling causes your back to stiffen and you tip your head back, letting out a soft, strangled moan. 

“You sound so hot,” Taehyung grits out the words, leaning forward at the opportunity and eagerly planting kisses along your exposed throat. 

You whimper out at his praise, at the feeling of his lips on your neck and his fingers working on your nipple. 

You are now all too aware of the heavy thud between your legs, the clench of your thighs around his waist and the way you are beginning to slowly, desperately rock your hips into him. 

You are wet, so wet that you can feel it practically pooling your underwear. The damp thud, deep in your core, is a drumbeat.

“So pretty,” Taehyung compliments, he chases his words by giving your other nipple a pinch, his fingers soothing the sensation with light strokes.

You whimper helplessly, your head falling back forward as Taehyung wraps his palm around your breasts and squeezes you, letting out a throaty moan. His eyes flicker in the dark light of your room as he massages you in his hands. 

You reach down with trembling fingers and pull at the hem of his shirt. He obliges, letting go of you to hold his arms out as you tug the white tee off of his head. 

You take in a sharp breath at the sight of him- the dip of his collarbones and the hint of muscles that ripple under his skin. 

Your fingers work against his abdomen, the stretch of skin and tautness of muscle, and you work teasing circles lower and lower down until you are right above his cock. 

His body is stiffened, waiting with a slowly loosening patience. He lets out a tiny choked moan at your tease before you let go and run your hands up his arms.

“You’re killing me here,” He growls lightly, and then his hand is at the back of your neck and he is kissing you again. His hands cup your ass, and you respond by working your body against the strain of his cock. 

His skin against yours, his arms against your back and his bulging cock against your pussy with each roll of your hips. It all has you trembling in want.

“I’m so wet for you right now, you have no idea,” You murmur into his ear. He chuckles, he squeezes your ass in his hands.

“Good.” He responds simply, you enjoy the shiver that runs down his body at your words and the throatiness of his voice. You nip more kisses along his neck.

He tips his head back at the feeling, and you bask in it, at how he reacts to each of your touches, each of your words.  

You are wet, so fucking wet that you feel filthy. All of your senses are wrapped in a film of crimson red want, and you are beginning to feel dizzy from just how badly you want him. You are riled up, your mind stuttering and desperate. You need him, and you need him now.

Taehyung, as if reading your mind, spins you, leans into you, pressing you onto your bed so that you are lying on your back. 

He sits up, and you swallow as his fingers wantonly flit over your body. 

He starts at your collarbones, his fingers dancing over your skin as he grazes over your breasts. When his fingers skim over your nipples, your body stiffens and you let out a soft exhale. 

Taehyung’s eyes flicker with pleasure at your visible reaction. He continues downwards, over your belly until he reaches your skirt. His fingers grasp waist of your skirt and tugs down, easing your skirt and your underwear together off of your legs. 

Your body wriggles on the mattress, and Taehyung lets out a soft groan at the sight of you, bare naked underneath him.

“God,” He mutters his jaw clenches and unclenches and you watch as he brings his hands down to rest on your hip. His fingers are still working careful circles right by the apex of your soaking wet slit. 

The feeling has you suppressing a whine.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” He sighs out. This time, you can’t suppress the whine and Taehyung smiles in satisfaction.

You can see his cock straining against his grey pants. He’s big, and thick, and the sight has you swallowing hard as he slowly places two fingers against your clit and then drags down.

You are wet, so wet that his fingers are immediately coated in your slick wetness. 

Taehyung clicks his tongue at how easily his fingers glide down your slit. Your body writhes, you are falling apart already.

“Baby,” Taehyung murmurs, “Try stay still for me okay?”

The affectionate name slips out of his mouth and you barely have time to dwell on it because his fingers are back at your clit. You clench your jaw, the friction if his fingers swirling circles over your clit sending you into a frenzy of want.

He lowers his body back on top of you, his fingers still working into your wetness. You are needy, you are dripping with it, and your fingers tremble as they reach down to unzip his jeans. 

You are shaky and clumsy and he chuckles.

“You want me, baby?”

You nod desperately as he slips a finger into you, easing it until he is knuckle deep inside. He crooks his finger and you bite down on his shoulder, letting out a choked moan against his skin. 

He pulls his finger out of you. You swallow at the sight of his digit, coated in your wetness. 

“So wet for me.” He comments throatily, and you watch as his eyes flicker with neediness of his own before he tugs his pants off.

Your eyes lock down on the grey fabric that is being tugged off and your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him naked. His thighs, his cock, which is thick and long and stands up with his erection. The tip of his cock pink and slightly glistening with his precum. 

“You’re really,” You pant out, peering over his shoulder to take in his back – the dip of his lower back and the muscles in his shoulders, he has two dimples right above his ass and the tightest, tautest ass and you feel a deep shiver in your belly, “Really fucking hot.”

A smile eases over Taehyung’s face and his eyes crease in the corners before he leans in and chases your lips into a kiss, his fingers reaching down to tease again over your clit. 

“Oh my-” He moans, and you reach down and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. 

“Fuck.”

It’s thick, and hard in your hand and his breath stutters at the feeling of your dainty hand wrapped around his length. He begins to rock his hips, gliding his cock against you and fucking your hand. 

His fingers are still massaging circles into your clit and you press your head back into the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut in your neediness.

“I want you,” You beg out, impatience peaking to an absolute crescendo.

“Please baby, please.” The words slip out effortlessly as your palm glides over the tip of his cock and Taehyung shifts, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. 

He pauses, delaying. 

His body pinning you down. 

You are gone, so far gone. His hair is falling in his eyes, his chocolate brown eyes full of lust as he scans over you. 

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea.

“Please.” 

Taehyung’s eyes flicker and then he leans back down, his lips slamming against yours with a messy, desperate kiss.

And then you feel it. Him, pushing slowly into you. 

You suck in your breath at the feeling of him, his cock stretching you out and pushing against your walls. He eases his cock until it was all the way inside of you. You hear his exhale of pleasure, and your eyes flutter closed. 

For a moment, all the messy desperation is settled, and are blissed out. It’s almost overwhelming how good it feels.

Within moments, it subsides, leaving in its wake a roaring want. You open your eyes to see Taehyung staring down at you. 

“I want you.” You bite out, your words are a demand, and Taehyung nods. 

“Your pussy feels fucking amazing,” He tells you in a voice that is heady and frantic as he begins to rock his cock into you.

He reaches up and laces his fingers through yours, keeping your hands pinned up beside your head as his hips rock deep circles into your core. 

He slides out nearly all the way, causing you to gasp… and then chases the absence with a long, deep thrust of his cock. 

Each dirty, fast slap of skin and the momentum of his cock buried deep inside of you only makes you needier Each gasp and breath and moan that he pulls out of your throat is broken apart and messy and you begin to feel the slow crest of a prickly heat in your core.

Taehyung continues to rut into you, each ministration of his hips against your soaked core causing him to groan. 

“Fuck,” He mutters, “You feel so tight around my cock, it’s…” his voice trails off and he swallows hard. He lets go of your hands and squeezes at your breasts, kneading them in his palms, and you moan loudly as your hands reach up to the canvas of his back. 

Your nails dig desperate patterns into his skin as you tilt your head back, Taehyung hitting deeper into you. Each slickened thrust is accompanied with a deep roll of his hips so that he is right there inside of you, causing you to feel choked with how close you are.

“Taehyung,” You pant out breathlessly, “I’m so close…” 

“Shit,” He mutters back, “You look so hot, it’s making me so damn hard.”

You bury your face into his neck and bite down on the skin there, moaning into him and trying to mask your sounds of pleasure. 

He reaches down and darts a finger against your clit as he continues to fuck into you, he reaches up with his other hand and grips the headboard above your heads. He holds himself in place as he continues to fuck into you with a ferocity that has you close to screaming. 

Your entire body moves with each of his thrusts, and you moan into his skin, biting down hard into his shoulder as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Gonna cum for me aren’t you, baby girl?” Taehyung grits, he slips another finger against your clit and the feeling of it has your thighs clenching tight.

“Y-y-yes,” You moan out, enjoying the constant groans and mewls he lets out with each thrust. You felt your eyes roll in your head and you gasp as as Taehyung angles his cock upwards. You feel light and heavy all at once and there is a white heat pooling in your belly.

“Fuck, I’m going to, fuck, please don’t stop, please-” Your words tumble out in a desperate rush and Taehyung moans, snapping his head down to look at you.

He keeps two fingers against your clit as the clutches you against him, fucking into your harder and faster and deeper. 

His eyes are locked on your face, and you keep your eyes trained on him. His hair, falling into his eyes, the sweat dotting his forehead with a slight sheen. The way his lips are parted, the dilated pupils of his eyes, how now- he is beautiful and masculine, all curves and edges.

“Oh my God oh my God oh my God,” You chant out brokenly as your orgasm breaks over you like a wave. 

You fall completely silent as it courses through your body, Taehyung slows his thrusts as you writhe beneath him.

“So fucking pretty when you cum.” Taehyung murmurs. You are faintly aware of him planting a kiss on your cheek and on your neck as you shiver in pleasure beneath him. The satisfaction riding through your body is long and overwhelming. 

Eventually your breath slows, it evens, and you feel the glow dissolving over your body, molten and warm and easy. 

“Oh my God,” The word is sung out in a sigh, and Taehyung smiles. 

“I came so hard.” You murmur, half in awe, half in mock complaint. Taehyung leans closer and presses a coy, delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You want more?”

Your body reacts before you speak, you curve up into him and nod. 

“Yes,” You mumble, and Taehyung pushes himself into you again. 

“Mmmm.” Taehyung’s low voice rumbles against your skin and you revel in it, your body sated and warm, a hazy prickle of desire growing in your belly with each buck of Taehyung’s cock. 

“You screwed me so good,” You hum, Taehyung’s head darts up. His eyes focus on you and his eyes are widened, rapt in you. He’s close, you can see it in the clench of his jaw and the tiny mewls that rip out of his throat. 

“I came so hard, God, your cock feels amazing…” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your words as he continues to fuck into of you. 

“Yeah?” He grunts, and you nod. 

“Hmmm, you made me so wet before you fucked me, I was practically begging for it,” You confess, and Taehyung smirks, his eyes flickering. 

He is close, you can read it on his face. You dig your nails into his back teasingly. 

“I can’t wait to feel your cum filling me up,” You purr, “Make sure you cum deep inside of me so I can feel it all night, okay?”

Taehyung lets out choked noise at your words, his eyes widening. “Fuck,” He grunts, “I’m…” His voice trail off and his thighs tense as he slams into you, three messy, sloppy, desperate thrusts before he let out a deep moan, his face burying into the crook of your neck and shoulder as he orgasms. 

His lips are at your ear, and you hear each whine and moan and shiver of his as he rides out his orgasm.

He stays like that for a moment, gathering himself. 

Finally, he pulls back and rolls onto his side. Your eyelids flutter closed as he kisses your cheek and then the corner of your mouth, before placing a kiss on your lips. 

He kisses you sweetly, tenderly, before he pulls back. You open your eyes to see him smiling down at you, his eyes soft and warm.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. He pulls out of you carefuly, and you wince at the feeling of your swollen pussy. He reaches over and grabs the tissue box kept by your bed, tugging out some tissues and dabbing carefully between your legs before he tosses the tissues in the bin.

He wriggles up beside you and wraps his arms around your waist. He crooks around your body like a comma and yawns into your hair. You begin to feel a sated, glowy drowsiness settle into you as he entangles his fingers with yours, holding you close against his chest. 

“That was…” He mumbles into your hair, his voice trailing off.

“Yeah,” You finish faintly, and you smile to yourself. Taehyung chuckles, his chest vibrating, and you laugh too.

“Tired?” He questions softly, and you nod, your head bobbing up and down as the tiredness exhales out of your chest in the shape of a sigh.

“Uh huh.” Taehyung’s arms circle around you tighter.

“Me too,” He comments softly. 

You feel Taehyung kiss the back of your head before he hums to himself sleepily. It’s a melody that doesn’t fully make sense, but it soothes at you. 

He moves his head, shifting to get comfortable as his hums slowly fade off into silence. 

Your eyelids are heavy, and they droop closed as you fall asleep in Taehyung’s arms.

Taehyung slots into your life effortlessly.

While the sun lapses into the horizon earlier and earlier with each passing summer day, you sit at the same desk in your local library. Taehyung is always at the front desk. 

One day his legs are kicked up on the table while he squints down at the book in his hands, the next day he’s hunched over his phone, peering down in fierce concentration at the app game that he wants to get a top score in. 

No matter what he’s doing, you find yourself sneaking glances at him as you study. You take in the way his eyes narrow when he concentrates, the mannerisms of his - like how he licks his lips absently when he’s deep in thought. 

You notice how Taehyung often seems to go through a complete spectrum of emotions in the space of five minutes sometimes, tiny micro-expressions and emotions that fall over his face as he turns the pages of a book. 

Or how, when he’s hungry, he wrinkles his nose and places a palm over his stomach and frowns. Basically, you notice anything and everything about Kim Taehyung.

Even more times though, you find yourself lifting your eyes during a moment of passing to see him gazing directly at you. 

Each time, he is wearing that smile, and his eyes linger over you. His eyes are intent, piercing, and you hve to tear your eyes away and try to fight the blush that is melting a rosy glow over your cheeks.

When the library is closed, and the sky is streaky with blue and grey, you and Taehyung leave together. Some nights, you get a bite to eat- dumplings pinched between oily chopsticks and snippets of conversation that vary from Taehyung arguing with you about what the best kind of chocolate is (‘Hersheys kisses are b

↳ All credits go to @kim-seok-jin for the banner and dividers! Thank you to @lvnatrgraphics ​for helping her with it!

Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-

Or can it?

One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness.

What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?

Take care, Alice…

➠ Pairing: Seokjin × reader, Yoongi × reader, Hoseok × reader, Namjoon × reader, Jimin × reader, Taehyung × reader, Jungkook × reader, OT7 × reader

➠ Word Count:20.6k

➠ Genres: Fluff, angst, mystery, fantasy, isekai (going to another world), alice in wonderland!au

➠ Rating: PG-15

➠ Triggers Ahead: Hints of creepy/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, reader’s manhandled, stolen kiss (?), violence and weapons, physical fights, suggestive dialogues, confusion, madness

↳ A/N: Since the post is a little too big to be reblogged on mobile Tumblr, consider doing it through your internet browser instead. Feel free to send us your feedback through submissions, or an ask about the story in general. We hope you enjoy! ↲

➳ Stygian’s Masterpost

➳ Stygian’s Prologue Teaser

➳@kimtaejinMasterlist

“Warning!In entering this game, be warned, dear player. You are an outside force, imposing your will on this world. You may have great power, but this power only comes once. Use it as you wish- whether you wish to control the story, or let it consume you. You may choose to leave the story, the world, without an end, or you may also stay, and search for the true end.

Here, it is your choice that matters. If you believe in this world, they will exist in your head. It will be up to you to direct the story however you want- because, in the end, if there was no Alice, then there would be no Wonderland. Wonderland comes into existence because of the person named Alice- and so this story will be if you choose to exist in it.”

♪Now Playing :‘House of Memories— Panic! At The Disco’♪

“Alice, dear, how is the tea?”

You find your attention focused on the cup before you, a thread of hesitation running through you at the sound of your older sister’s voice. Lorina seems as beautiful as ever, really. The sunlight luminates her features, giving her an ethereal glow. 

Fingers pin back the stray hair behind your ear, and you idly wonder how much you pale in comparison. Ah well. At least, in this moment, seated at the tea party, that your family is best known for… even if no one is there to witness it but you both, no fault can be found in your manners, an unachievable hunger for perfection having long been instilled in you.

After all, that is the expectations set on you as a daughter of the Liddell family. Or rather, not just from your family, but also from the noble society. Intelligent, beautiful, refined. To always be a lady in every way. 

Still, no matter how well you hold yourself, you muse as you take a sip of your tea, it’s not like it will ever matter. It’s quite simple if you think about it- when everyone’s eyes are already turned to someone else, there won’t be any left to glance your way.

Which is fine, really. No one might acknowledge your success, but your failures go unseen as well. To anyone else, those words might seem bitter or jealous, but you know yourself that you say it with relief. You do not ever want to be in Lorina’s position, where everybody pays attention to her every move.

You don’t, you think to yourself. You really don’t.

“… -ice? Dear? Alice?”

You snap back to attention at her voice. Gently setting down the cup in your hands, you finally address the elephant in the room with a deep breath, unable to bear it anymore.

“Lorina, dear sister-” you pause, trying to find the right way to say it without hurting her feelings. “I’ve missed you terribly,” you start. “To be able to see you again in person is a pleasure, but- I worry about your health, coming to see me when you must have pressing matters to attend to.”

Lorina’s face brightens in that moment, to your surprise. “Alice, dear, for an important matter such as this, I simply could not wait to tell you- other matters can wait,” she beams, clasping her hands together.

“An important matter…?” You echo, confused. You’d received no prior notices or any hints as to what your sister is talking about. Your brows furrow, a puzzled frown lacing your expression. At your reaction, she only seems to smile even more, excitement showing.

“Yes, you see- my engagement with Malchin has been approved by mother and father!”

Ah.

Malchin. Lorina’s suitor of four years. A name you hoped you wouldn’t hear for the rest of your life. You exhale discreetly, trying to keep up a pretense of happiness, if only for Lorina’s sake.

“Really?” You smile at her. “Congratulations, Lorina!”

She giggles, and in the setting of the golden afternoon sun, Lorina glows. Happiness suits your sister, or rather, it always has. “There was nothing more that we wanted than to bring you the news in person. As my sister, you know how much he cares for you! He was just as excited to tell you this as I was- oh, we came straight here without notice… I’m sorry, Alice dear,” she suddenly murmurs, brows furrowing. You can’t help but frown as you hear her words, especially at the mention of him.  

Even so, Lorina’s guilty face prompts you to answer her, so you keep the smile plastered on your face. “It’s alright. Why would I ever refuse a visit from my beloved older sister? … and from my ever so wonderful future brother-in-law,” you add hastily, in case she notices.

“What a relief then, for there’s nothing more I’ve wanted since our last meeting, than to see you again,” another voice joins the conversation- and your grip on the cup tightens, the necklace around your neck sitting colder than ever before.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. 

Soft, caramel eyes that twinkle, a chiselled face, white-blond locks and sharp yet features that soften as he smiles, a being you’d only be able to picture in the novels you read, Malchin, the subject of your conversation, joins your tea party. 

Foreign, a history shrouded in mystery, and yet impossibly skilled with diplomacy, Malchin is the picture perfect fiance for a daughter of your house. Yet even so, you find him to be someone you want nothing to do with. If you were to speak honestly, his words were seeping poison and his presence a headache.

Sometimes, you ponder over what made Lorina like him so much- but in the end, you aren’t in a position to do anything about it. After all, that has long been a tradition of your house. A Liddell journeys on her own to choose a suitor of her liking. 

And Lorina, for some reason you will never understand, has chosen Malchin.

Looking up, you see his lips set in a smile as he faces you. And as always- the moment that your eyes meet, Malchin pauses, before his eyes turn too piercing, a trace of unexplained deep fondness becoming visible. Of course, he’s always been rather…affectionate towards you, and even if you found it uncomfortable in the past, nothing comes close to the tension you can feel it building up to right now.

You immediately avert your gaze when his lingers for too long to be considered appropriate, heart beating fast. Taking your cue as what it is, he starts walking- to Lorina, you hope, not wanting to be near him in any way. 

When he’s about to pass by you, you tense, your focus entirely on your plate, there’s nowhere else you’d rather look-

You shudder as you feel the brush of his hand tuck away a loose strand of your hair, before his voice resounds. 

“You look stunning, as always, dear Alice,” his voice is near shy of a purr, and you wrack your brains for a suitable response, your hackles raised. His next sentence comes out lower, and if you were sitting anywhere else, you might not have heard it. As it is, you have the front seat for his theatrical acts. 

“Any man, if he were to see you, would fall in love immediately.”

“T-Thank you for the compliment,” your words come out stilted, and you almost stutter. What he means by it, you don’t want to contemplate too deeply into it. You should look at him as you respond, but- no. “A roundabout way to tell of how Lorina’s beauty captivated you deeply?” You redirect his words to your sister immediately with a false giggle. “After all, I’ve been told I am the picture perfect copy of Lorina. Really… you are as charming as always, Malchin.”

Guessing by his expression, he’s caught off-guard, if only for a second. Lorina’s shy giggle rings in your ears. His pupils dilate before he bursts into a sweet smile too, one that could never make someone paint him as the demon he is under that mask of his. 

“Of course Lorina is very beautiful, and so are you, dear Alice,” he chuckles, laugh airy and soft and oh-so-toxic it makes you want to run, red sirens going off in your head. “If a man sees two flowers growing ever so beautifully, is it not his duty to state what they are? And if he likes one so much, enough to want it for himself…”

The feel of a hand subtly gliding through your hair makes you squirm- just a little, you’ve been trained not to show discomfort- and you keep the tight smile on your face, though it strains the longer he stays near you.

It seems mercy has finally come upon you though, as Malchin finally strides over to Lorina, slowly as if he seems reluctant, seating himself beside her- though not without fleeting overly fond looks your way as well. You try not to meet his gaze as often as you can, though you can’t imagine just how or why Lorina can stand this. She can see it, can’t she? It’s frustrating, truly frustrating and as Lorina chimes happily with a, “Alice, dear, more snacks?”-

You find yourself looking at her and trying to ignore the person on the side. It doesn’t help that the table is small, just enough to fit two people, and Malchin’s addition has made it incredibly crowded as he sits beside you. When his knees brush over yours- you almost jump. Your mind tells you to escape, but how?

Not even three minutes and all you want to do is leave.

You send a soft smile (or what you hope is one) to her, thinking over the words in your head, unwilling to stay a moment longer-

“Lorina, love-” the brief, fleeting glance your way snaps you out of your trance when ‘love’ rings in your ears, fortunately just in time to hear the next words being spoken, “-we seem to be running out of snacks, shall I call for the maid-?”

“Oh no,” you instantly cut in with an apologetic smile that you hope is believable. “I had the maids leave the garden for today, to give us privacy,” you sigh, looking at Lorina under your lashes as if to imitate the sorry but well-meaning child. Before Malchin or Lorina can speak further, you continue forward. 

“Never worry though! Calling for a maid in the mansion is not too much- and besides, I believe you two have some words to speak to each other that I should not be hearing,” you giggle, playing the part of a mischievous, adoring younger sister this time. You see Lorina blush, and Malchin looks at you with amusement. The way his lips tilt in fondness and want, behind the facade makes you all the more relieved you are leaving.

“If it’s not too much,” he softly repeats, a cup raised to his lips, before you see something dart out- and you look away before you have to see more than his tongue pressed over his lips.

You quickly flee away.

If there is anything that gives you comfort right now, it’s the sight of familiar bushes, of familiar roses and hedges that make up the maze in the garden you are in. It’s no secret that the Liddells- your family- are people who indulge in beauty and luxury; the gardens that encircle the lands your family owns only attests to that.

Another thing that reminds you awfully a lot of your high status in society other than the large gardens and your last name is the chain of silver hanging down your neck. It comes down to a tear-shaped red tourmaline, and you faintly remember sitting under a certain tree, thinking of how it looks to be a real tear made of blood. Or perhaps a raindrop, you think idly. All that you know is that it’s a very special heirloom. Sometimes, it still baffles you- why your esteemed mother and father would give it to you, rather than Lorina. After all, it’s apparent that she’s the better child in their eyes.

Still, talking of gardens, this one in particular has been, and always will be, your favorite.

When you round a corner, you smile softly as you reach your destination- the clearing that lies in the very center of the maze. Inside, you see the huge tree that has been a familiar face since you were but a child, the croquet holes that are scattered around, the grass that tickles your legs as you pull up your skirt- the feel of the breeze…

… the… body lying down near the… tree…?

You pause in your steps, confused. Is that a new servant of the manor? It’s the only possible explanation for the unknown person to be sleeping in the garden that you’ve explicitly told them not to sully. You try to keep your temper in check as you stride over to the- boy? No, man- in quick steps, disregarding the danger-

You stop, for the second time, in surprise.

Having crossed the distance between him and you, the image of this sleeping man is now much clearer. Details previously blurred are now all too easy to see. What you thought was a mismatched uniform seems to be something else entirely, his whole outfit something you’ve never seen before. A red coat with an off-white shirt, paired with his white pants makes for an overly bright attire, though the black bow with white speckles does make it more coherent.

But as you look up, you retract all your other thoughts.

It’s the pair of bunny-like ears on his head, huge and brown and floppy that are mismatched with everything you know. How- why? What?

If that’s not enough, as the man shifts in his sleep, the ears twitch, and you let out a small gasp, your curiosity taking over the fear that should have been your first response. Instead of wanting to run away- you find yourself intrigued. Who exactly, or rather- what exactly is this man and why is he sleeping in your garden?

If you’d known what would happen later on, you would have scolded yourself, curiosity be damned. It has always been your one crippling weakness since when you were a child.

But in this moment you crouch, coming closer, tempted to touch his ears and see if they’re real. The man murmurs something in his sleep though, and you find your gaze attracted to his face instead- and you fall even more silent, if that’s possible.

Beautiful.

Where his ears drew your attention before, his face certainly seems to take your breath away just as much. You’ve never seen someone as handsome as him- how do you describe the angel in front of you? Long lashes, the cutest nose, soft pink lips. Now you’re more than sure he isn’t someone from the staff- how could someone with his face work as a mere servant? 

Peering down to his wrist, you see a purple gem, a garnet, you realize thanks to the academy’s constant pressure on noble women knowing their gemstones, shining under the glass of the wristwatch, even in the shade of the tree. It’s pretty, very pretty, you think with a soft smile. Befitting his awfully formal attire.

The ears twitch again and you turn to watch with fascination as his nose in turn twitches at the same time. Then his ears flop over, and into your hand-

You bite back the squeal building in your throat at how utterly soft his fur is. Unable to help yourself, you let your hands run over his ears. They’re addicting to touch, and it’s only when you hear the man below you make a sound that you halt to a stop, embarrassment coloring your cheeks red.

What in the hell have you been doing?

Observing someone sleeping without their consent- what more to touch them so casually-?

In a single moment yet again, you seem to have renounced everything you learned back at the academy. The mere thought of it makes you shudder and you hastily move to put distance between the two of you, but-

The hand that grabs your wrist in turn makes you squeak in shock.

“… Who…?”

Huge, doe-like eyes that fittingly make him more handsome stare at you and you find yourself unable to say a word, your heart unable to do anything but beat fast as you find yourself in close quarters with quite one of the strangest strangers you’ve encountered yet.

“A… Alice…?”

Then he immediately grins, and you’re broken out of your trance.

“Oh, I knew you’d come!” He beams at you- even his teeth resemble that of bunnies, you dazedly think- before shuffling closer until your noses are only a breath apart. “I only had to wait, and you’d come back one day. I knew you would. I knewit.”

“Let’s go home!”

“I-I beg your pa-!?” Your words are cut off as he suddenly, effortlessly tugs you close, and in a single move, sweeps you off of your feet. With your body cradled in his arms, your feet left dangling in the air, your head tucked to his chest and his arms tightly holding you, you aren’t given even the slightest bit of leeway to break free.

More than that, all the words in your throat die down as you’re suddenly brought close close close, so close to this (infuriatingly) handsome stranger’s face, such that you can clearly see the mischief in his gaze as he looks at you. There’s a touch of glee in there too, but more than that- ecstasy? Hope? Relief? The myriad of emotions he displays on his face confuses you, but then you stop that line of thinking when you feel him start to move.

“Let me down!” You hiss at him, trying- and failing- to move in any way.

“Why would I?” He asks, an innocently curious note in his voice. The rabbit ears that you’d earlier wondered if true proudly flop in the air, folding over and sometimes standing tall. Just like a real rabbit, you can’t help but notice, before his words sink in and you scowl.

“What do you mean, ’why would I’- for one, you’re basically manhandling me, and another, I’m not whoever you think I am! For both of our sakes, let go of me already, you-!” You squeal when you suddenly notice the hole that has- how, how!? You’d remember if there was a hole like that in your garden, let alone beside the tree’s roots!- appeared, huge and gaping. That’s not what makes your heart drop in fright though-

It’s the fact that it’s pitch black, even under the bright sunlight. It’s as if there’s a wall of some sort that prevents light from passing through, making you want to curl up in fear.

“… I guess you don’t remember, but that’s alright. It’s the rules, after all. When we return, you’ll surely remember me then, won’t you, dear Alice?”

And before you can ask him what that means, or even to ask him where he’s taking you- 

-he jumps, and your scream is swallowed by the air as both of you fall down the hole.

♪Now Playing : ‘BST Orchestral Cover (Reimagined Ver.) — MDP’ ♪

Dark.

Cold.

Silent.

You don’t know how long you’ve been falling, though internally you’ve counted at least two minutes, it feels as though an hour has passed instead. The only thing that keeps you grounded is the sensation of arms holding you close. Not even your voice echoes out. 

In this space, you feel as though you’re weightless, in a void, enough to daze you that-

‘Let’s play a game, Alice!’

You see a flash of blue, of red, of different colors and there is innocent joy in the laughter that follows. Still, it flutters out of your reach like a butterfly…

- your heart aches. The sudden, sharp pain that makes itself known in your chest makes you gasp silently, scrambling for air as your lungs burn-

-and when you open your eyes again, all you can see is blue.

Blue, reaching as far as your eyes can see, white clouds that hang lazily in the air, the sun hidden behind them… the wind, suddenly loud and screeching in your ears. When you speak, you can barely hear yourself, but having experienced the void, this feels like a blessinginstead.

“What happened!?”

You didn’t mean that question for anyone, if anything it is just the expected reaction for someone who fell into the ground, only to realize they’d somehow gotten from under the ground to above the sky.

Still, your insane captor answers your question. “We’re back in Wonderland!”

Wonderland. Immediately do you feel your heart pound hard and fast, the emotions from before making itself known yet again. An hour ago, you never would have heard about it before in your life, so- why, why was it so…

… familiar?

More than that though, as the blue of the sky makes way for a startling amount of green, you’re reminded of your situation at hand.

“We’re still falling!?” You scream, tugging him closer, the pounding in your heart being replaced by fear, sharp and cold. “We’re going to die at this rate!”

The smell of something surprisingly manly, with a mix of flowers makes itself known, and his voice rings in your ears. “Don’t worry! I won’t ever let you get hurt,” he reassures you, hands cradling you even closer, tucking you into his arms enough that your head is now pressed under his head, your nose brushing against his neck. 

The sudden proximity shocks you into silence, and you still. Thinking about it clearly though, as insane and fast-paced as the past few minutes have been, clearly- clearly he would be familiar with this, right? And it’s not as if you know how to make it safely to the ground either.

With that in mind, you gulp, deciding to trust your kidnapper, as infuriating and stupid as it may sound.

Seconds after you think that- you almost let out a gasp as you feel a soft sort of force envelop you both, visibly slowing down your descent- and when you finally open your eyes, you really do let out a gasp.

Below you both is what seems to be a gigantic tower of some sort, the balcony only a few meters away. 

“What is that…?” The question falls from your mouth without you even thinking about it, dazed as you are. Yet again your kidnapper happily replies.

“It’s the clock tower- we’re almost there! Just a little bit more, okay, Alice?” 

You gulp nervously. Still, it’s obvious to you that if you want to get away, or do anything- you have to reach the ground first, so you remain compliant in his hold until the two of you drop to the balcony.

The second that you hear his feet touch the floor- with a swift kick to his waist, you finally release yourself, although you squeak when instead of cringing in and holding his waist, he holds on to your arm instead and pulls you close, and-

“!?”

-he kisses you. 

You freeze.

Soft, warm- and you heart suddenly feels like it could collapse in and of itself, red flooding your face and your movements halted. You can’t even find the words, your eyes wide with shock while his eyes are closed.

And then they flutter open, a flash of something wet across your lips and- you’ve had enough.

If before you held back a little somehow, right now, there’s nothing more you really would like than to just dropkick him off the tower- and with that feeling driving you, you punch him, straight in the gut.

Creep lets out a choked sound, immediately falling to his knees and you grin, but you forget the tight hold he’s kept on your arm, and-

-he pulls you straight down on him, making you hiss as you make contact with what has to be solid muscles, what the-

“-don’t just-!”

“-brat, don’t you know the meaning of eldest first-!”

“-so you’re admitting you’re an old… man..?”

And for what seems to be the nth time of today, you’re given yet another surprise.

This time, in the form of several men bursting through the previously unnoticed door to the tower. At first you notice a man with grey hair and spectacles, but then just as immediately as you see him, he’s pushed to the side by two more men. Both of which are not only fighting, but upon seeing you, immediately fall silent with a shocked gaze. 

Still, you’re just as confused… as…

You follow their line of gaze down, down, down, to meet with…

… the eyes of Crazy, who’s- who’s flushedred, eyes wide and a dazed sort of smile on his face, frame trembling and you give up, you really give up, what the hell is going on-

“Jungkook, you little shit!”

All proverbial hell breaks loose as you suddenly find yourself gently but still firmly pulled away, the sudden movement making you dizzy. In the span of two seconds, you find yourself some distance away from Mad, and instead with-

Your eyes widen as you notice the similar looking bunny ears that seemed in fact longer than Crazy’s.

“Are you alright?” If the man before you notices your sudden bewilderment, he doesn’t say anything. He looks at you with worry, lips raised into a heart-shaped pout as he pats you on the head.

“I…” What are you even supposed to say to that question? In the span of what has to be half an hour, you’ve been kidnapped and then thrust into what seems to be another world entirely. Only the fact that panicking would not help is keeping you from bursting into tears. You swallow, coming back to reality when you notice how all too close he is to you. Hastily taking a step back, you smile at him, albeit shakily. “I’m alright, thank you.”

He beams at you, and you’re abruptly reminded of sunshine.

Or maybe it’s his clothes.

Clad in what has to be the strangest fashion you’ve ever seen- nothing is color-coordinated, it looks like the most wonky, tacky thing you have seen in awhile. His rainbow-colored tie clashes badly with the neon green jacket he’s wearing, while his pants- you can’t even figure out if they are jeans or trousers, stripes covering them. The strangest thing yet might be that he actually pulls it off quite well.

One of his large ears is home to a ring sitting on the tip of it, adorning a bright green emerald in the shape of a simple rectangle. It’s beautiful, you find yourself thinking. Very mismatched with his outfit (apart from the jacket), but still… gorgeous.

Oblivious to your inner confusion (and how you’re practically drooling over the gem when it’s not your place to do so), he gives you another smile. “That’s good, I was worried Jungkook did something to you,” he earnestly tells you.

“Technically, he did already steal a kiss,” another one murmurs. You glance over, once again being overwhelmed by how handsome the person speaking is. With hair that seems as though it was spun from silver, the uniform that he wears complements his appearance well, a sword sitting sheathed, ready to strike at any moment. “Though it seems Alice herself doesn’t seem to mind?”

Your eyes settle on the cyan stone- apatite, you dazedly think- fixed in place on the handle of the sword, gleaming and reflecting the sun’s rays. It’s hypnotizing and draws you in, and you would’ve dared to touch it if not for the unwanted attention on each and every single movement of yours.

Your smile stiffens as you register his words moments later into the curious silence. “I don’t believe that can be considered as a kiss, at least on my end,” you reply, your hands clenched around your dress. “It would have to be consensual first.”

“PerhapsI will be the one to first claim a kiss from our Alice then,” you squeak as you suddenly heard a new voice come from beside you- and when you spin around, taking a step backward, you’re met with the face of one of the men from before- boxy grin in place as he unabashedly stares at you with mischief in his eyes. You aren’t quite sure what to say then, speechless from everything that was going on. Too much, too fast.

“Speechless?” He murmurs, his grin turning into a smirk. “Well, I’m not surprised. I do have that effect on people, don’t I?”

“I know you’re confused right now, Alice, but- it’s not that hard to understand. Trust me- we’ll explain everything to you very soon!” Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 says brightly, before frowning as he looks behind you. “Well… as soon as they’re finished.”

It’s only then that you remember the previous events. Turning around, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting to see. If the men from before were any indication, then the remaining two men would be a sight to see as well.

Still, it doesn’t fail to take your breath away.

A formal outfit, chain of gold with a clock at the end placed neatly on the tuxedo he wore. His hair lightly falls over his face in a side bang, though you can make out his eyes very clearly, with a pair of glasses putting everything together. Smart, is the first thing that came to your mind. Like the sort of person who’d worry over others excessively, you add.

“I mean- you shouldn’t have just kissed her like that.”

“Yeah! What about the ‘everyone gets a chance’ part?” Beside him, the last member of the group finally comes into clear view, huffing the question with a frown.

All that comes into your mind is that he looks like… a king.

The red, fluttering cape behind him, the crown inlaid with gems, the sceptre he currently wields; everything pointed out to a single conclusion. The gem that stands out the most, however, is the red ruby in the middle, charmingly dazzling and basking in the attention of the nature around it. It flickers as you land your eyes on it, finely cut to add to its extravagant flare.

Still, when his words sink into your head, you can’t help wondering if he’s truly a king, or merely wearing clothes like one.

“How are we supposed to lure her in if you hit on her when we aren’t even there? That’s not fair.”

Insane scrunches up his nose, pouting. “It isn’t my fault you’re so slow and old!”

“What did you just say?”

“I said you’re old. Suck it up!”

You bite back the laughter in your throat as you let them settle their argument. You aren’t deficient in the head to intervene without a thought, the situation does not quite require one nor are you comfortable enough to do such a thing.

After all, no matter how friendly these men seem, it is an irrefutable fact that you are in unknown lands. Being excited and careless is the least that you feel you should be. With that, you use the time they argue to observe them instead.

Even if what you’ve been learning so far about them hurts your head instead.

It is only then that Mr Wise seems to remember the situation at hand. Quickly glancing at you, he tries to placate the other two. “Guys, she’s still here-”

“Shut up, Namjoon! I’m being insulted and all you care about is-”

It’s then that his eyes seem to meet you once more, as he stops and stares. “Oh.”

You smile though you feel quite awkward inside, one of the many things you’re experienced in.

In this moment, all attention falls back onto you, and while you’re thankful for the brief opportunity to truly talk and figure out the matter at hand, there’s a certain type of disquiet inside you at having strange, gorgeous men stare at you.

King (you really should learn their names, a part of you murmurs) gives you a faint smirk. “Alice,” he smoothly says your name and- really, that’s another matter that has you on edge. How do these people know your name?

You grip your dress tightly, willing yourself not to show weakness. Curtsying to him, of course- what else are you supposed to do- you open your mouth to introduce yourself, but then-

“I see you know your manners,” he cuts you off, looking quite… pleased? You’re unsure of how to take the tone in his voice. Is he trying to be formal and give you a command, or trying to make you feel at home with the compliment? It isn’t even a compliment, really. The last thing some random strangers as the ones you have stumbled upon would do was make sure you’re comfortable.

…Which you’re not. But they don’t seem to care.

“Unlike some other people,” the last part is added by King in a bitter manner, as he scowls at Insane with a side glance. You are quick to take your mind off of that detail. “Whatever the King orders, you oblige, correct?”

“I- yes, your majesty…?” Your reply is more of a question than an answer, but it seems as if the quick reaction to his words actually made him even more pleased, guessing by the ever-growing smirk of amusement on his face. Should you be scared…?

“Tell me honestly.“ He charges forward as he says, brushing a strand of your hair. You hold your breath, heart palpitations sounding louder in your ears with each beat. The others, unfazed, simply watch.

“Who do you like best from us?”

If not for his steel-cold gaze holding you down, you’d run, run faster than you have ever before. But you’re stuck, frozen, and it’’s not only because of the question he asks, but the way his fingers softly slip through your hair. 

Truth be told, you like none of them.

Crazy, is… well, exactly that, completely unhinged and a psychopath. He dared to steal a kiss from your lips- and you had only met him for less than an hour!

And as for the others? Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 is interesting, that was true, a little questionable with his attire but friendly. Perhaps a little toofriendly.

Boxy Grin gently hinted at the same thing Crazy had done. King, the one standing before you rightnow, well… You bite down on your bottom lip. Yeah, he definitely isn’t your favourite. The rest- a minute of meeting did not an accurate analysis makel, so it isn’t as if you can say anything about them.

Really, it’s ridiculous that you’re even thinking for an answer, when you know there’s none.

“Well, obviously, she likes me more. She just isn’t saying it because someone is glaring daggers at her,” Boxy Grin says, rolling his eyes.

“Ohplease, be a little humble, will you?” King frowns. You don’t say anything- what is there to say? You don’t like any one of them… however, of you bring that up, murder did not seem to be far off the list of their reactions. Your current goal, as simple as it may seem at the moment, is to survive, and then hopefully head home.

“Jungkook, tell Taehyung to be humble. He simply can’t understand me, not that I would expect a plebian to do so.”

Crazy is starting to blush even more, you notice, turning red when you look at him with a grimacing look on your face. “W-Well, I-”

“You’re all really stupid, aren’t you?” Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 starts, “The only reason Alice hasn’t spoken yet is because she likes me best.” You would want to tell him ‘no’ firmly, but… He continues before you can say anything at all. “Seokjin, you’re glaring at her again.”

“It isn’t glaring if you do it to encourage someone!”

“What does that even mean-”

“Breaking news! The King of hearts is actually begging someone for the first time in history.” The silver-haired man, presumably a knight from the outfit, speaks.

"As his right-hand man, shouldn’t you be more supportive of him trying to be humble?”

“Spreading news of our great King becoming more humble is a way to support him, Namjoon,” he crosses his arms. “I always endeavor to spread tales of his greatness whenever I can.”

“Oh, for my flamingos’ sake, I am not trying to beg her!”

“Who even cares about your flamingos?”

“Youhaveflamingos!?”

“Should I sit down? This seems like it’s going to take a while, isn’t it?”

“Rather than sit down, I can already see this devolving into a fight-”

“Oh, I’ll definitely give you a fight alright, how-”

You startle as you see one of them pull out a- is that a gun!? How is it that a simple argument somehow devolves into a gunfight!?

“-howdare you people obstruct the king!? Why, if you’re looking for death, then I’m not opposed-”

Not to mention how the others seem to be getting just as agitated, the bright flashes of swords and the glints of metal from guns attracting your gaze. You look around- is no one going to stop it-?

“You’re the one being an obstruction!”

The resounding dark looks, yells, and the jerky movements all tell you otherwise, and you debate on leaving while they’re preoccupied. You’re not about to stay in a what seems to be soon a warzone-

“-All of you, stand down!”

With that, everyone turns quiet. The voice that last spoke seems to ring through the suddenly quiet air, as everyone turns to him.

Mr. Smart Guy looks at them with what you could only describe as burningrage, towering over the rest in the midst of the fit of anger. He’s the tallest, you realize, with how easily he’s able to intimidate everyone in the room. Even you are taken aback by the sudden stern voice of his, cold and unnerving.

“I will not tolerate any fights in this place. I assume you all know that by now?” Hastily as they should, the six other men nod to his words. Not all are willing, most are more than reluctant. "Yet it seems I deal with toddlers instead of adult men, who seem to forget the rules of this tower everytime.”

“This tower is a neutral area, and therefore it is not a place for you to hold your violence-happy, warmongering, amnesiac idiotic selves, and for clock’s sake-”

He sighs, loud and irritated, and you spot one of the men hastily putting away a weapon.

“… At this point, nothing will get done until the next cycle. Well then, if you can’t behave yourselves to be better than at least children, then I suppose it is partly my fault for believing you could do so. … I will correct that now,” he nods. The men look at him, confused, before Glasses guy points to the door behind him.

“Leave.”

You keep mum in the silence that follows.

“… Well then, what are you waiting for?” He raises a brow, a frown on his face as he meets his eyes with everyone.

“But Alice-”

“Go,” he repeats firmly. “I will take it from here, since you people seem to be too inept to do so. Just wait for Alice in your territories.”

His lips curl. “That is, if she picks you.”

“This is breaking the rules, Namjoon,” King grumbles. Beside him, Crazy nods frantically. 

“We’re supposed to tell her about Wonderland together!”

“And have you guys actually done anything in regards to that?” He asks skeptically, before shaking his head. “I believe I already told you. I will not budge on this issue- leave. If there are consequences to deal with for breaking this rule, then I will gladly bear it, if it means having you people out of my tower,” he scoffs. “I will call you when we can start the official introductions, and I hope you will be ready by then to act as the role holders that you are.”

With that, the group seemingly deflates as one, though they finally start to leave.

King shoots you a last look before he turns away swiftly, the sunlight making his crown shine above anything else, its looming shadow falling over your small figure.

“I am leaving. Come to my castle when you have the least bit of respect for me and my flamingos.” He huffs, theatrically, might you add, taking a sharp turn from you to the door they had entered from.

“All hail the King of hearts!” Exclaiming so, the Knight leaves rather slowly than you’d expect for the energy in his voice, trailing after the King himself. You can see his figure sigh a little before the door closes behind him.

“Well you know what that means,” Boxy Grin says, a little while after the doors close. “I’m having a tea party tonight to the King of hearts becoming more humble and begging Alice.” Saying so, he takes off his awfully-decorated top hat to reveal a teapot and two cups. “Hoseok, dear, have some tea,” it’s a broken british accent that he speaks in. You have the desire to cover your ears in case he goes too high and potentially breaks his voice-

But he doesn’t.

Instead, Mr Bunny Ears Part 2, Hoseok, you catch his name, takes the offered teacup and begins walking towards the door. “You’re all invited!” And with that, andBoxyGrinchasingafterhim, they leave too.

You let out a sigh as soon as they left. “H-Hi,” oh no. Oh goodness, why? Why can’t they leave you alone for a single second?

It’s Crazy. 

“Sorry for… all of that,” he’s still tomato red, but you refrain from paying that too much attention. “They are a little crazy.” Andsoareyou, you want to say. Clearing his throat, he sighs, albeit shakily, “Well! I should, uhm, leave now that the King of hearts is gone. They’ll be expecting me,” it takes him all of his courage to walk away- but not before giving one last sad glance, as though he’s a puppy being forced to part with its owner and why did your thoughts even go that way?

You sigh, and upon making eye contact with him, you glare back like there’s no tomorrow.

It’s quiet now. There may still be two strangers remaining that are looking at you weirdly, perhaps even whispering things to each other, but at least it’s a bit more calm now. 

You can hear steps coming towards you, but you only look up when you hear a familiar voice call your name.

“Alice,” it’s the one man that you had thought looked smart- though you did not get his name. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope they did not scare you too much. Please find me as soon as you’ve taken everything in. And please feel comfortable, this land is now your home too.” And with that, he gives you a little smile, scrunches his nose and fixes his glasses, then leaves.

You blink at the last man standing- he has cat ears? How did you not notice before? If you remember correctly, he came with the rest of the men but hadn’t said anything, right?

You expect him to say something, anything, but he just takes a step, and another, and then another, until-

A click and thud of a door. He’s gone, just like the rest of them. 

You feel a sigh rip its way out of you.

You slide down, down, down until you’re practically sitting on the ground, for once, uncaring if your dress is dirtied. In this situation though, you find that you can’t care much, if at all.

For a few moments, you find yourself struggling to realize just what, exactly, should you feel. Even when you think back on it, everything feels like a blur, too fast, too intense for you to process.

What- and pardon yourself here- the ever living fuck has just happened? 

You’ve been having these thoughts earlier, but now they seem to continuously repeat in your mind. Did that really happen? Haveyouactuallygoneintoanotherworld? 

You don’t want to believe it. Who would? Here you are, without friends or family, surrounded by unknown people, in an unknown land. How are you going to get home? How are you going to survive?

… What more, the strange, focused attention the men earlier held for you. You have no idea what happened then, nor how they knew your real name. It’s a huge problem- especially when you remember that Crazy stoleakiss from you, and the others don’t seem to be far off from doing the same thing, given the incentive.

Looking down to peer at the treasured heirloom, you find it’s red color brightening into a pink, shining and dimming consistently, almost as if there is a light inside of it. It scares you, it really does, becauseitlooksasifthetear’sglistening, but that next to everything else and the fact that it has never done this before your entire life, only when you stumble into a strange world…

Just then, a strong gust of wind blows by, and with it, you feel the urge to burst into tears.

What the hell are you going to do now?

Your body trembles, you’re lost and you’re scared-

It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, right? You are. You’re going to survive, you’ll get out of this somehow, you will.

Because.

You’ve survived until now. You survived the mansion, their stares, your mother, the school-

You made it through. You tell that to yourself repeatedly. Youmadeitthrough. 

Right.

Right.

Exhaling gently, you forcibly push all lingering feelings of panic and despair down, deeper down. You can’t break down now. You have to find a way to get through this. 

Going home is your priority, has to be your priority. There lies everything you’ve worked for and understood in your life, but you have to face reality- perhaps you can’t go home right at this moment.

So.

First of all. You need information. Merely staying where you are is no good, either. Your options, you gather, are to-

      A. Go with King, and the silver-haired guy. You guess that they reside in the huge, red castle south of where you seem to be.

      B. Go with Boxy Grin and Mr. Bunny Ears Part 2, who, after minutes of squinting, you haphazardly guess to live in the huge mansion a little ways off the red castle. You say so because of the huge garden connected to it, where there’s a white table with what you assume to be decorations and food on it.

     C. Go with Smart guy, he hasn’t gone far yet, you hope.

     D. Go into the town, and brave your luck to find a house willing to house you.

However, each option has its pros and cons.

Option A. You… are highly uncomfortable with King, although Silver haired guy seems okay if not a bit weird. Although they would probably easily let you stay, you aren’t eager to find out what happens when the King decides to pursue his delusions of you liking him. Silver haired guy might help him too since he’s a subordinate.

So. Very low chances for that.

Option B. Seems to be slightly better than Option A. However, considering Boxy Grin casually assumed you liked him, and… Hoseok? The thought that his name seems slightly familiar flashes in your mind, but you will it away. For now, you don’t feel okay calling them by their names (truthfully it doesn’t seem to suit them as much as their nicknames [that you gave to them] do, so…) Bunny Guy Part 2 did the same, you aren’t sure you want to go there either. Even if the thought of tea parties reminds you of home.

Option C. The one most promising so far. Everyone so far seems to be… not quite right, so to say. But Glasses guy seemed to be the best and most normal one yet, if just as exasperated as you. He’s just as unknown as the others, that’s for sure, but you can reason with him better than you can with the others, and that makes him the best candidate so far.

Option D. Under Option C it seems. Blindly trusting people is just another way to say ‘please trick me and use me!’, and you are not that desperate to risk that. Perhaps if you really had no other choice. You don’t know the current state of the town, and you could find out later if needed.

Still, now that you’ve reviewed your options, it seems that Option C is the best one so far-

And with that in mind, you resolve yourself. 

You arrived- no, you got abducted into another world. Fine. Alright. You’d live. You then got left behind bytheverysamepersonwhoabductedyou, but fine! That is fine too. More than peachy. You’ll find a way to survive and get back home.

And the first step is to find Mr. Smart Guy.

It’s the faint sound of movement that finally draws your attention, alerting you to the possibility that there’s someone in the room nearby. What feels like half an hour of wandering around, and you’ve managed to tour around a bit of (what you now know) to be a tower. Built in a square structure, with what seems to be an endless amount of stairs connecting each floor, the tower has quite the number of floors. You aren’t sure, but between guessing how tall each floor is and the distance to the ground, you guess it to be around twelve, maybe fourteen flours, including the balcony from before. It’s amazing, it truly is, but-

The fact that it took you six floors before finding the first hint of life beyond dusty rooms, not as much.

You stop by the door, listening for any warning sounds inside. 

But you don’t hear anything- except for the sound of things being opened and closed, presumably side tables. Was this someone’s bedroom? Pushing the door ajar just a little, you peep through.

Ah. Finally.

He’s still wearing those glasses, hidden behind a stack of papers. To his right is a bookshelf, to his left, a few drawers. Not a bedroom, you think, more like an office of a sort. You frown a little, trying to make out the expression on his face, but open the door a little more, and you might make an unwanted creak and give up your location. Or the fact that you were staring at him in a rather creepy position.

So you’ve found Mr. Smart Guy.

Yet, still, you stand there, frozen and unwilling to move. You shouldn’t be scared of him though. He doesn’t seem intimidating at all, so why can’t you just approach him? You bite down on your bottom lip, before letting out a heavy sigh.

Remember your main objectives.

Clearing your throat, you make your presence known to Mr. Smart Guy as you open the door and enter the comfortable-looking office. 

“I- I’m sorry to disturb, but, good afternoon.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, though you hope he hears it in the silence of the room. Looking up towards you, you see relief color his face.

“I wondered when you would come,” he smiles, though his hands still hold the clock gears, he gestures to one of the chairs nearby, “It’s alright, please, sit down.”

You follow his words with barely any hesitance, though you remain cautious. Still, it’s a relief to think that maybe you’ll finally get a clue on what seems to be going on. The man coughs once seemingly thinking over his words, before he starts.

“I’m certain you’re feeling confused right now, so if you have any questions, please.”

Thank god. You take in a deep breath and ask not the first question that’s been driving you crazy, but the one that you need the answer to the most. “Do you know how I might get home? And if not that, then at least, an idea of where I might stay? I… the discussion earlier left me at a loss, since everyone immediately came and left without answering a single question of mine.” You look down, biting your lip in distress. When you speak again, your voice is a few sizes quieter. “And perhaps… why did they seem so fixated on asking who I liked best…?”

The expression on his face falters to a more solemn, stiff one at your words. He fumbles with his pen, the frown widening by the second. For a moment, he seems to think over his words- before he answers you.

“Hm, I suppose you’re right. It must have been terribly confusing earlier, to be caught up in the antics of the toddlers. … I’m afraid I can’t answer all your questions right now, since doing so for some of them goes against the rules of this land.” And he blinks at you, lost in thought. “However, you’ll find a place to stay by tonight, you need not worry.”

“And as for your earlier question…”

He runs his hand through his hair, brows furrowed, before he resumes speaking.

“This world is named Wonderland- a parallel world to your own- which people here call the real world. All those who inhabit this place are bound by rules, and as Alice, if you desire to go home, then it is in your best interest to complete the game.”

You blankly stare back at him. Not even several sentences in, and you’re already feeling blindsided.  “The game…?”

He smiles wryly. “… I’m afraid to say that that question will have to be asked at a later time. For now, what’s important is for you to pick a territory that you might be comfortable having a discussion in… as well as a faction to stay with.”

“…What,” you softly say, shocked and stunned and possibly bewildered as well. “I- you have to be kidding me,” you mumble, “That’s…”

Smart Guy easily shrugs, looking at ease in contrast to you. “…I assure you, I am not joking. Although I am not at liberty to say why or how, Alice has the right to choose where to live during the remainder of her stay. Although it was to be decided earlier, the others were…” he grimaces before continuing, “…a little too rambunctious, so I sent them on their way. Besides, with how the argument was unfurling, rather than letting you choose of your own free will, it was more likely that coercion, and then a brawl would happen. Hence, why I believe it’d be best for you to have some information, if not a choice about which people you will be staying with. And so-” 

Here he pulls out a map from a nearby drawer, smoothening it out on the desk near the two of you. It unfurls, revealing quite a quirky landscape.

Surrounded by mountains, you see a mishmash of villages, a mansion, castles- isthatthetoweryou’rein?- and what seems to be an- an amusement park?

“Your options,” the man gestures first to a huge red castle on the bottom right. You can see miniature mazes and rose gardens drawn around, along with a crown. “Hearts Castle, where the King of Hearts, along with the Knight of Hearts and White Rabbit reside.”

Your mind flits back to the men from before- the pompous king, who’d quite honestly irritated you, the knight who seemed more inclined to snark than to serve, and-

You hold back the annoyed twitch as your thoughts go to the young man with rabbit ears from before, the one who’dkidnappedyouandstoleakissfromyou. 

Yeah, you aren’t going there.

His finger by now moves to the mansion in the middle of the town. You spot two guns in a cross, circled by roses. “Hatter Mansion, where lives the Mad Hatter, as well as the March Hare.”

The one with the tea cups from before, you assume. You question their sanity, but looking back on it, they were much more preferable to living with, rather than the first three.

Still… remembering how one of them- the Mad Hatter himself, probably- assumed you to be falling for him… perhaps not.

Finally, he points to the amusement park that sits on the upper left corner. “Or the Amusement Park, the territory of the Cheshire Cat.”

Cheshire Cat? Who…? 

Might be the one who left last, you deduced. No, you won’t be going there either. You aren’t keen to share a living space with someone you barely know anything about, even less than you do the others.

You pick your options carefully. There’s only a little chance of success, but…

“Come to think of it,” you change the subject as gracefully as you can, smiling sweetly at him. A step forward is all it takes before you’re standing close to him, and you fix an interested look on your face. “I wasn’t able to learn your name earlier.”

He exhales, eyes now seemingly turned and glued to the clock that you now notice he’s fixing on the table. “It’s Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

…Instantly do you notice the weird way he’s told you his name, though you refrain from commenting. “My name is Alice, Alice Liddell. But please do call me by my first name, I wouldn’t mind at all!” You feign cheerfulness. “Would it be okay to call you by your first name, Namjoon?”

“Youare Alice, after all,” is his only reply. You suppose that’s as much as a confirmation you’re going to get- the short replies that you’ve suddenly been getting all but telling you he’s losing interest in your conversation. Still, his words are confusing. The way he’d called you Alice seemed more than your name, but rather a title-? 

And he all but agreed that his first name is Namjoon. Kim Namjoon. You’ve only met one person who introduced themselves with their family name before their first.

A flash of intrigue, one that makes you wary as he bends down a little to smile at you. “My name is Malchin. Lee Malchin. I’m ever so pleased to meet you, dear Alice.”

The mysteries keep piling up, you suppose. More questions that come as answers arrive.

“Do you live here alone, perhaps?” The tower is full of empty rooms, the upper floors full of dirt and dust. As grand as the tower seems to be, it’s surprisingly empty. Lonely. 

“Actually, I do,” he looks at you for a split second before averting his gaze down to the clock he seems to be fixing. And he’s trying hard, you notice. You’re not very educated on clock fixing though, so you’ll skip over the details.

You scramble your brain for a way to keep the conversation moving, although the other person seems more than uninterested. “You must be quite an important figure then,” you eventually say.

The sound of metal on metal, the clock being repaired slowly dies down.

Namjoon turns to you- his lips purse and he briefly gives you an irritated look. “Alice, may I ask for your reason in doing this? I presume it’s obvious I have no desire to talk to you.”

You wince minutely at the harsh tone he sports. “I…”

“Well?”

“…What about the Clock Tower? Could I stay here?” 

Namjoon stills. You hold your breath, suddenly feeling nervous, but…

“…It would be foolish to choose my domain,” he eventually says. Namjoon’s face is set into a frown as he speaks to you, words clear and cutting. “As I have no interest in participating in this game. You’re better off winning over the other role holders.”

“But-” you hesitantly push forward. “Why not? I mean, so far you seem to be the only one who-”

He cuts you off.

“I am the Clock Maker. My duty is to Wonderland more than it is to a game where we pander to the whims of a girl for a chance at a world unknown to us,” he smoothly says, but- you shiver as you hear the undertone of scorn. All previous gentleness and warmth has disappeared from him, leaving only the coldness of a man who is annoyed- before he thaws a little, seeing the timidity in your eyes.

He stands up, and you take a step back, confused- and then he steers you by the shoulders

• KIM TAEHYUNG FIC RECS •

• Here are some of my favourite Taehyung fics. Go through these recs and find something to nourish yourself with. Show your support for these talented authors by leaving a comment and sharing feedback on their works. For posting their fics on the internet, each and every author listed here deserves a big warm hug. Thank you to each and every one of these authors for their efforts, we really appreciate your content •

[ Fluff | Angst | Smut ( minors dni.) ]

- one shots:

➵Sleep sex by@gamergguk | S

➵overdue. by @amourtae | S/F

➵Tales of broken heartby@taegularitiesF/S/A

➵spectreby@btsstan12A/F

➵ feelings caughtby@kimnjss​ | S 

➵ all i want for christmas is youby@ladyartemesia | F/S

➵shutoutby@ughseoks | F/S/A 

➵ breakfast in bedby@borathae​ |F/S f

➵ 10 musesby@sketchguk​ | F/S 

➵teaseby@caiuscassiuss | F/S 

➵ soaring highby@taegularities |F/S 

➵sphby@venusjeon  | S/A 

➵ flat tireby@ppersonna​ | F/S 

➵ strings attachedby@bangtiddies​ |  F/S 

➵ the holi-dateby@kpopfanfictrash | S 

➵dichotomyby@kpopfanfictrash​ | S

➵ washed onby@ressjeon | S 

➵acquaintedby@dewykth | S/A

➵ “are you sure?”by@cutechim | F/S 

➵ just a tasteby@cutechim | F/S 

➵tempestuousby@ppersonna​ | S/A 

➵ make you feel my loveby@rkiverse | F/A 

➵ remember thisby@yoohtae | A

➵ tattooed twoby@httpjeon | F/S ft. Jungkook

➵ seventeen times 17by@cutaepatootie | F/S/A 

➵ right amount of wrongsby@taegularities​ | F/S/A 

➵ tomorrow, tonightby@ggukseoulcafe \ F/A 

➵ guns & rosesby@chateautae | F/S 

➵ work hard, play harderby@sugasbabiie | F/S/A 

➵ dark chocolate snapby@jamaisjoons​ | F/S ft. Seokjin

➵ kinktober ~ day 14 by@dreamescapeswriting |F/S 

➵spiceby@aquagustd | F/S/A 

➵ do it betterby@yoon2k | S

➵flickerby@chimoona | F/S

➵sorrowby@jiminsfault | S/A

➵ somebody elseby@jamaisjoons | S/Aft. Yoongi

➵ bad alpha, sweet alphaby@helenazbmrskai | F/S/A 

➵ (why) we got marriedby@ktheist | F/A

➵ talk slowby@writtenwhalien | F/S/A 

- series :

➵(sweet devil: prequel: midnight snack,devil’s smile,devil’s nemesis ) by @sparklingchim| S

➵Ruinedby@taegularities | F/S/A.

➵enemyby@btssmutgalore| S/A ft. Hoseok

➵ rotten angelcakeby@inkedtae | F/S/A f

➵ cliff divingby@wwilloww | F/S 

➵ the good boyby@jkeuphoriadreamland | S

➵coloursby@lovelytaes-blog | F/S/A 

➵ kinda hotby@kimnjss​ | F/S/A 

➵ the diary of a healing heartby@taegularities | F/S/A 

➵ the president’s sonby@jimlingss | F 

➵salvageby@btssaysstudy | F/A ft. Jungkook

➵ patient loveby@writtenwhalien​ | F/S/A 

➵ heart of the flameby@chateautae | F/S/A 

➵seeing redby@borathae | F/S/A 

➵ the art of touchby@chateautae​ | F/S/A 

➵ play with meby@bangchanshehe | S/A 

i was watching couple prank videos and stumbled upon one that reminded me of taetae lol. soo enjoyyy

Earlier today I stold Y/N’s camera and placed it somewhere she wouldn’t see it but made sure the angle was perfect to get her reaction of what was going to happen in a few mintues. She was a youtuber and constantly played pranks on me. They were funny, she gained million of views from the pranks but today was my turn. When I woke up from my nap, Y/N was in the bathroom messing with her hair. I got out the bed and made my way into the bathroom.

“What you doing?” I grinned while walking up behind her, grabbing her waist in my hands. She smiled at me through the mirror and parted her hair with her comb. “What does it look like Tae?”

“What does it look like Tae?” I mocked her in a high pitched voice.

She rolled her eyes and plugged in her flat iron. Turning her around in my arms, I leaned down to kiss her forehead. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek soflty.

“You forgot a spot…” She blushed after the words came out her mouth, her index finger pointing to her mouth. I grinned and giggled at her. “That was so lame.” I teased her. She smacked her lips and pushed my shoulder back, turning back around to face the mirror.

“The one time I try to be cute…” She stuck her tounge out at me.

I shrugged and moved my hands to reach under her shirt. She placed a bun on the top of her head while the rest was hanging down. She grabbed the flat iron and started to flat iron a section of her hair. I stepped back and played with the bun. After she finished doing a section I thought it’d be a good time to do my prank.

“Let me do it.” I reached for the flat iron but she reached back.

“Uhmm boy are you crazy? I got it.”

I pouted and dipped my head down so my hair would be in my face. She sighed and tried to ignore my cute pouting, which she did successfully. Only one thing left to do now, whine.

“Baby pleaseeeeee~” I kissed her shoulder.

She moved her shoulder and shook her head, I laughed. “Oh it’s like that now?” I teased as she let out a small giggle. I pulled lower body against mine, squeezing her body and begging some more. “Taehyung no, leave me alone.” She went on to doing her hair.

“But you can’t even see the back! I’ll do it for you, pleaseee.” I whined some more. She sighed and paused for a little bit, just looking at me through the mirror. “If I let you do this will you leave me alone?” I nodded eagerly. She bit her lip and carefully gave me the flat iron. I smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Just do wherever you see waves or whatever.” She placed her hands on the bathroom counter. I nodded and sneakily pulled out some hair that was in the bathroom earlier from my pocket.

“Ok be still so I can concentrate.” I lied.

She giggled and did what I said. I started to put the hair by her head and pretend to flat iron her hair. She was to busy messing with her eyebrows to notice anyways. I started to mumble incoherent things to make her worry.

“What is it?” She fixed her eyes on me in the mirror.

“Ah shit…” I mumbled with a scared expression.

She scrunched up her eyebrows and tried to turn around but I didn’t let her. “Ah…was it loose back here or something?” Her eyes went wide and tried my hardest not to laugh to ruin the prank.

“No Tae, what are you talking about?” She tried to turn around again.

“Baby i’m sorry…”

She turned around and I held the fake hair out for her to see. She blinked at me then the hair before attacking me with her small fist. I backed up into the bathroom wall and stifled my laughter.

“Y/N stop! What is wrong with you?” I grabbed her arms.

She still tried to swing with her arms held by hands. “Why would you ask that question!? You just burned my hair off Tae!” She tried to kick me and I lost it at that point. I couldn’t stop laughing as she was panicking. She snatched her arms away from me and walked over to the mirror, feeling around the back of her head where she thought I burned it off.

“I just bought this hair!” She complained.

“See, it’s not even yours! No need to be so angry.” I tried to reason with her but all I got was a middle finger back. I tried to wrap my arms around her but she pushed me away. I laughed and dangled the burnt hair in her face.

“This isn’t funny—oh my god you owe me three hundred dollars, I swear.”

“Y/N—”

“I knew better to let you do my hair, oh my fucking god.”

“It’s a prank baby!” I yelled as I tried to stop laughing. She looked at me and I pointed to the camera hiding in the corner. She looked defeated after I told her. A small smile made its way on her face and I tossed the hair on the counter.

“I found it in here this morning.” I smiled.

“You’re such an ass for that.” She hit my shoulder playfully.

I laughed and opened my arms for a hug. She walked into my arms and pinched my stomach. I groaned and she laughed at my pain, evil much? She looked up at my face, “I'm going to get you back, just wait for it.” She smiled.

“I believe you, trust me.” All the memories of her past pranks came back to mind and I shook my head, making her laugh.

- kay.
lmaoo idk what this is but I saw another one and I was like this is soooo yoongi I may write it if i get time lol but hope you liked this…whatever this was.

You was never the one to be all mushy when it came to boys but a certain boy wanted to change that. He goes by the name of Taehyung, Kim Taehyung. He was your Mother’s friend son which automatically made you two friends by default. It was quite awkward at first because of your personality. You weren’t as open as Taehyung was, you were more to yourself; other people may call you cold but over time you think you’ll be able to open up more.

“So lets go to the movies _______, we can watch that new scary movie!”

Taehyung’s voice was bouncing around your room as he swirled in your chair. You was laying on your bed, your favorite anime playing on your TV. You eyed the boy that was making his self dizzy in the chair.

“I can’t.” You simply said.

“Why?”Taehyung stopped spinning in the chair and started to giggle at how dizzy he was. What a strange boy.

“New episode of my anime is coming out…plus I don’t like you enough.” You stared at the TV screen with your natrual glare on your face, it never really left.

There was an silence and a shadow over you, Taehyung’s shadow. He was standing infront of you as you tried to look behind him to see your tv.

“C'mon Taehyung move! This is my favorite part!” You whined and tried kicking him out the way.

“Well come to the movies with me then!” Taehyung grabbed yours legs that was still kicking at him. You stared at him and he stared back at you, but his stare was more…playful?

Yup, playful, because in that same second his fingers were lightly scraping across the bottom of your feet, making loud, ugly giggles come out your mouth.

“Ok Taehyung I’ll go! just stop tickling my feet!”

Taehyung laughed and let go of your feet, flopping down right next to you on your bed. He turned his head to face you, his eyes looking at every detail of your face.
His hand reached over to lightly touch your cheeks, making your face heat up.

You slapped his hand away and sat up, “Stop touching me.”

Taehyung was still laid back, arm behind his head and a smirk on his face. You were fidgeting on bed hoping the blushing would stop.

“Let’s cuddle ____.” Taehyung grabbed your arm trying to tug you back down to him.

You snatched your arm away from his hand and stood up, “I said stop touching me you freak.”

You stumbled out the room with a blush that anybody could clearly see. Taehyung was still laying on your bed giggling at how flustered you got.

- at the mall / 2 days later.

You and your friend, was out shopping for her date with her boyfriend of a year. You wasn’t going to come but she begged you and whined all day to you. Plus she bought you food.

“This dress is going to look so good on me!” Your friend gushed while practically skipping to the cash register.

You rolled your eyes and stood next to her while looking at the stuff on display.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just wear a dress you already had.” You crossed your arms.

You friend sighed, “It’s our anniversary, duh!”

“….ok and?”

Your friend rolled her eyes and chuckled a little. You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

Your friend moved up in line and placed her stuff on the counter.

“The fact that you act so mean and tough but in reality your just a cookie.”

The guy behind the cash register laughed but stopped when you glared at him.

“If anything i’m a tough cookie.” You smiled.

Your friend laughed and payed for her stuff. She grabbed the bag and walked out the store with you beside her. You two spotted the food court and sped walk towards it. When you two made it there you two decided to get pizza.

“So how’s life?” Your friend sat down at a table and begin to devour her pizza.

You sat down in front her and shrugged, “Boring as usual.” You bit into your pizza.

“What about Taehyung? Are you two together yet?”

You almost choked on your pizza when she said that. Your friend handed you your drink but was still dying laughing at your reaction.

“No! Why would you even ask that stupid question?” You wiped your mouth.

Your friend took another bite out her pizza, “Because you two like each other.”

You shook your head, “No, he likes me. I don’t like him at all.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not.”

“So if Taehyung kissed you right now you wouldn’t kiss back and have no feelings towards him whatsoever?”

A smile made its way in your face before you could even answer the question. When your friend jumped in excitement your face was back to it’s natural glare.

“You just smiled! You like him!” Your friend yelled. Everybody looked over at the table. You had to kick her for her to shut up.

“A smile means nothing!” You argued.

“It means alot.” She smiled mischievously.

It was quiet at the table. You two stared at eachother. She would never let this go, never.

“Ok fine, but if you tell anyone I will kill you.”

Your friend was clapping like an excited seal, pizza stuffed in her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.

You slugged in your seat and ate your pizza in defeat.

“You two would be so cute together, oh my gosh! He would treat you like his princess. Oh, please make it happen _____!”

“Who would treat her like his princess?” A familiar voice rang through your ear.

You turned to see Taehyung standing there with a little frown on his face. You could see his group of friends standing in the back. You sat up and glared at your friend who was sitting there awkwardly.

“Umm nobody.” You looked down at your jeans.

Taehyung was still looking at you and the whole atmosphere was awkward.

“Hey Taehyung!” Your friend greeted him a few minutes too late. She was trying to make this less awkward.

Taehyung looked at her and gave her his charming smile, “Hey (Y/F/N).” He waved at her.

“I need to talk to ____ for just a second.” Taehyung grabbed your arm and pulled you up from your seat. You frowned but followed him anyways.

Taehyung let you go when he pulled you to an empty side.

“You look pretty.” Taehyung smiled.

You fought so hard to not a smile. You nodded, “I know.”

He chuckled and scratched his head, “So um, who’s the guy (Y/F/N) was talking about?”

You was happy that he didn’t hear his name earlier. You probably would run out the mall of he found out.

You shrugged and waved it off.

“It’s nobody.”

Taehyung pushed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor.

“Are you sure? Because I can cancel the movie thing if you have a boyfriend now.”

Your eyes went huge and you was happy he was looking at the floor and not your face.

“No, no, no baby! We were talking about you!” is what you wanted to say but you had to keep it cool.

“No Taehyung, just chill. I don’t have a boyfriend and we can still go to the movies.”

Taehyung looked up, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

He smiled and you smiled too. Taehyung reached his hand over to wipe the pizza sauce off the corner of your mouth. Your body froze up and Taehyung noticed. He kept his hand there and looked at your face that was currently getting hot ass hell.

He smiled and laughed causing you to come back to your senses and slap his hand away.

“What did I tell you about touching me?” You pushed his shoulder.

He shrugged, “You were blushing.”

You scoffed and smacked your lips. Taehyung swung an arm around your shoulders and walked to his friends and your friend that was now talking to eachother. You realized it was his two friends Jimin and Jungkook.

“Hey Mrs. Kim!” Jungkook smirked at you. You would slap that smirk off his pretty little face but people was around. You wasn’t going to embarrass him like that.

“Shut up you fetus.”

“I’m not a fucking fetus! I’m a man!”

– day later/ movies.

You walked out the house to see Taehyung leaning on his car waving at you excitedly. You smiled and turned around so he wouldn’t see it. You locked the door and walked across the yard to him. Taehyung still had a huge smile on his face and opened his arms out for you. You scrunched up your face and held up your fist.

“Fist bump? Really ___?” Taehyung laughed.

You shrugged and fist bumped him. Taehyung opened your car door for you.

“For my princess.” Taehyung smiled.

You rolled your eyes and got in the car quickly. Taehyung went around and got in the drivers seat, starting up the car and driving to the theater.

You looked at Taehyung from the corner of your eye and saw him biting his lip. He was obviously thinking of something, he always bit his lip when when he had something major on his mind. Taehyung felt your eyes on his face and quickly glanced at you. Locking eyes for just a second, you both looked away with smiles on you two’s faces.

When you two arrived at the theater Taehyung made sure to open the door for you and help you out the car, even though you didn’t need any. He tried to keep holding your hand while walking into the theater but you slid yours out his. Taehyung frowned and sighed. He bought the tickets but made sure to pull you off to the side.

“What is it Taehyung? The movie is about to start.” You placed your bag on your shoulder.

Taehyung stepped closer to you, grabbing your arm and rubbing it, “I need to ask you something.”

You gulped and moved your arm from his hand. You looked down because you knew you were blushing.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me? Like more as a friend?”

You never looked up, you just shook your head, “No, not at all.”

Taehyung grabbed your chin and pushed your face up.

“You sure?”

He looked so dreamy at this moment and you really didn’t know why. Maybe it was because his eyes were searching for something within yours. Maybe it was the smile that gradually crawled on his face. Maybe it was his lips, his pink lips that you always dreamed of kissing.

Taehyung slowly leaned in, making sure you were okay with what was about to happen. Your eyes darted to his lips then his eyes, back and forth they went.

“I like you a lot ____, I want you to like me to.” Taehyung whispered right above your lips.

You were lost in your emotions; your real emotions. The ones that you kept locked away about Taehyung.

You nodded and licked your lips. A shaky breath left your mouth.

“I like you, kiss me Tae.”

Taehyung pushed his lips on yours, smiling right after at the feeling of your soft, plump lips on his. He turned his head a little and opened his mouth a little.

Your eyes shot open when you felt his tongue on yours. You pulled away and covered your face with your hands.

“Oh my god, I actually just kissed you.” You mumbled in your hands.

Taehyung pulled your hands from your face and interlocked them with his. He squeezed your hands and laughed at your blushy face.

“Aww look at my boo, blushing at a little kiss.” Taehyung giggled.

You quietly shrieked and walked into his arms. You laid your hands on his chest, hands still between his.

“I never seen you like this, this is amazing.”

Taehyung was still laughing and you let go of him and hit his chest.

“Shut up, this is the last time you’ll see me like this.”

“You sure about that?” He smirked.

He pulled you to him again with his hand on small part of your back. You fought so hard not to turn into pudding but when his tongue grazed across his lips you lost it.

Taehyung smiled but before he could laugh you quickly pecked his lips two times before running off to go watch the movie.

“So this is what I’m going to have to deal with.” Taehyung followed you with a smile on his face.

I’m sorry for not posting but school work comes first you guys. buuuut i hope you guys like this! i’m working on some of the request you all sent in so be patient lovelys
- kay