#Prophet!Kim AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkedtae · 4 years ago

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orange tree ⇾ knj, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ares!namjoon x mortal!reader (f.) x apollo!taehyung

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ greek god au, established relationship (w/namjoon), smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ he built you a pathronon but you would like to expand its patrons… at least just for the evening.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7.4k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!namjoon, tattooed!namjoon, silver mullet!namjoon, dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, a lil bratty!reader, rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, angry sex, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), humilition kink, size kink, pain kink, jealousy, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration (in one hole), exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, choking, manhandling, body worshipping, pussy worshipping, basically reader worshipping, pussy slapping, cum eating, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, spit play, breath play, breast play, pretty much an ungodly amount of filth :)))

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m a hoe :))

❧ banner by ⇾ @kimtaehyunq (thank you so much friend~)

❧ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu (a million thanks to these cuties~)

❧ le playlist

⟶ commission for @jamaisjoons through ChangesWithLuv, supporting BLM

Beyond the holy village of Barthes, within a meadow of sun dropped marigolds, you lounge topless underneath an orange tree. Cool winds cut the late summer heat. The breeze hardens your nipples and prickles your exposed skin with goosebumps. Hair tousled, you bite into another orange slice. He did not care for citrus, until he tasted your lips. Then, he planted you an orange tree. He promised you good fortune and a long life.

“You will want for nothing,” he told you. “Just, behave.”

Behave. A word he’d used often with you. Jaw tense, he’d hiss the warning while fondling your breasts or cupping your sex. When he is furious, he is boundless. He fucks like a titan, remnants of a gracious god completely withering away. Tight grips, rough pounds, and seething threats that promise such painful pleasure, Kim Namjoon is a red hot planet of sexual destruction. So angry, so lustful, he serves you a cockful of discipline and then some. You are helpless. To his wrath, you are subjected. But, you don’t mind. The truth of the matter is, your body is always alive when buried under his.

“You’re a minx,” a deep voice states behind you.

You sit up, fruit juice trailing down your arm. Lips in a pout, you gaze up at the tall man behind you. Blonde hair, symmetrical face, sharp collarbone, broad chest and - he smirks - and, oh so sinister. How could a delicate smile be so devilishly sincere? And he brands you a minx… what does this handsome man know of you? How long has he been watching? Swallowing your bite thickly, you try and fail to fathom his beauty.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and circles around you. His eyes dance around the thin, red blanket, the array of fruits, and braided loaves by the wicker basket before trailing up your exposed legs. A shiver snakes around your curves. The way his eyes devour you makes you think he did not stumble upon this hideaway accidentally. Namjoon took extensive measures to ensure no one would. No, this man knows. He must. Why else would he not question your presence alone under the only tree? He accepts it, expects it.

Pushing your sticky arms around your breast, you attempt to somewhat conceal yourself and ask, “Are you a traveller?”

He shakes his head. The wind plays with his hair the moment the sun emerges behind heavy clouds. Its natural glow lights up his figure, in all its holy glory. Well-toned, pierceless, inkless, chiseled features are all too accurate to be human. He is pure. There is very little scarring on his skin as well. He looks down right angelic, prophetic, utterly godly.

Has Namjoon really entertained your fantasies? You first made the suggestion off hand, completely innocent in your phrasing, until his face fell. Stone fierce gaze slicing through your soul, you couldn’t help but describe an ocean’s worth of desires involving more than one man by your side. You were fucked to tears against the tree until it’s branches were bare and the ground was covered in ripe fruit and loose leaves. You thought that would be the end of it. But now, as you carefully stare at the god while he shamelessly sips on your near nakedness, you wonder just how wrong you might have been.

“Have you come to watch?”

“To worship.”

Your arousal slicks your thighs. Pressing your legs together, you suppress the giddy shivers that caress your spine. Though excited, you really can’t believe Namjoon did it. It was a joke but, scanning the sun god’s frame once more, you’re glad he didn’t take it that way. Face flushed, you lie back in your previous position. On your side, breasts on full display, you toss your hair aside. As your lips part to question the details of his intentions, you catch a familiar silhouette by the sea, in the distance. Flickering your gaze between the two men, you wonder if this new god was sent to test your loyalty or limits? The figure nods. You smile.

Attention returning to the golden god, you ask, “Apollo, is it?”

“Taehyung,” he corrects.

“Is that the name you prefer I scream?”

He pauses. Those mismatched eyes widen at your intrepidity. Dazed in confusion, he scans your frame once again, as if reprocessing your presence. He’s underestimated your wits, you realize, but the newfound understanding in his eyes reassures you that it won’t happen again. Good. He’s a quick learner.

Quirking a brow at the blanket beneath you, he asks, “May I?”

You nod once. He licks his lips twice, bites on the bottom one, then seats himself beside you. On his side, bare chest on display, he takes in the scenery from this new angle. Flowers bloom under a peachy dawn, and the vast fields of greenery wither to sandy shores where the sea waves as a way of greeting. His cocky stare lingers on your boyfriend before settling back to your little shrine underneath the orange tree. It’s a parthenon all on its own, with you as the center of its divinity. This detail seems to intrigue him more than it should, but you assume it might also have something to do with being watched.

Taking his hand in yours, you feel the dimming warmth of the setting sun. Who’s manning the chariot, you wonder, and would he be willing to let you ride it? Your bones tremble beneath your flesh at the impression of a distant growl. Oh, right. You almost forgot Ares can read your mind. Being something of a soulmate, he’s connected to you in ways other gods are not. Another growl slices through your thoughts. Jealousy sounds so good on him. Hearing his frustrations, knowing he’s enjoying the way you indulge, flusters the anxious bundle of nerves at your core.

Taehyung chuckles. Inches away now, his hot breath fans over your cheek. Fingers trailing up from your hand, along your arm then to your neck, he wraps his hand around your throat. He presses his thumb in the divet just under your chin, teasing a choke but never actually going through with it. You wonder what Namjoon must be hissing by the sea. What kind of curses is he throwing? Just picturing his furious eyes and cliffed jaw tickles the pit of your stomach.

“You’re precious,” Taehyung whispers, lips pressed against your chin. “I understand why he hides you from us.”

Us? Olympus knows of your blasphemous citrus temple? Usually, this kind of revelation would grant you a lightning bolt to the heart and an eternity in Tartarus. Only this wakes something different in Taehyung. His breath shallows, erection pokes at your thigh. He’s aroused by the idea of worshipping someone as powerless as a mortal. Or perhaps, you wonder as Taehyung nibbles on your skin, he simply adores displaying his power. Either or, you decide to make the most of what your Ares has granted you. Gaze finding his broad frame again, you let out an exaggerated gasp.

Namjoon flinches. However, it isn’t until you press your body against Taehyung’s that he cringes. He shifts his weight, fist clenched by his sides and you swear you can see steam hovering over his head. Namjoon is livid. But, Taehyung is oblivious. Too consumed by your pleasure, he tightens his grip on your throat and trails his open-mouthed kisses down to your breasts. Nipple between his teeth, Taehyung groans in hunger. Tongue teasing, he licks to play, not to soothe any of the stings. Your toes and legs hook around his waist. Hips rolling, you tease a preview of what you have in mind.

Taehyung shifts half an inch away though. You know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the gesture, the throb against your hip reassuring you just how much he would really enjoy it. It still hurts your pride, however. Twinges of humiliation taint your soft features. He offers half a smirk as a means of comfort.

“He told me you’ve got quite a mouth.”

Is that an excuse or explanation? In both cases, it’s weak. He traces your face, fingertips so soft you almost forget the indirect rejection. Charming, his tiger starved gaze reflects hints of amusement. You’re easy prey, a fact that crumbles your courage. He is not here to coddle your pride, to serve the goddess of this naturous parthenon, but rather to obliviate it. A pitiful pile of pleasure is all he wishes to make of you. Though, now you wonder, is he doing this because he wants to, or because he’s ordered to?

Eyes darting between Apollo and Ares, you swallow thickly. The wondrous glow in Taehyung’s gaze makes you pause. Perhaps you’ve been too hasty. Perhaps they were both counting on that. The humiliation returns ten fold and prickles your skin upon realizing how careless you have been. Too quick to show your keen interest in devouring a different dose of daylight, you did not make Taehyung work as hard as he should’ve. And knowing that must have been what Namjoon was expecting only festers your heart with anger. This isn’t an opportunity to indulge, you conclude, but to reprimand. The both of them want to sip on your submission. The role of a meek mortal amuses them more than it should. It turns you on more than it should. So, you pull away more than you should.

Laying back on your elbows, you redirect your gaze to the sky. You can feel both pairs of eyes studying you. Taehyung props himself up on his forearm and looks over at your suddenly calmed features. It’s almost as if you’ve never exchanged a word at all.

“Funny,” you restart, all cards hidden this time. “He never mentioned you.”

Angry, confused, perhaps both, Taehyung stares. He blink, blink, blinks before he fully registers what’s been said. You can feel Namjoon’s delight though. The pride he has in the way you sassed a rival resonates deep in your core.

As you shimmy out of your dress, Taehyung finally scoffs a chuckle. You attempt to ignore the way it lights your soul with desire and focus on Namjoon’s silhouette. He looks closer, lurking by the tall grass, though still near the sand. Fully naked, you try to school your features and pretend you don’t notice the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches while Taehyung’s falls slack. Your hands rests on Taehyung’s bare thigh long enough to make him shudder and your boyfriend growl. It’s almost all too easy to push Namjoon’s buttons. He hates it when you do something simply because you can.

“You abuse your power,” he always tells you.

And, with a smile, you always reply, “I don’t abuse anything, Joonie. You just can’t refuse it.”

Taehyung seems to prove this statement now, falling prey to the way you toy with him. Half focused, you’re paying enough attention to him to feel his frustration. Displeased with the way you have your eyes glued on the god of war, Taehyung huffs and inches closer.

“Do I need to plant you an orange tree?” he teases. Well, he attempts to anyways. The resentment in his tone seeps through instead.

You bite back a smirk. “You can try.”

His eyes flash with annoyance. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Taehyung raises a brow. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you can safely assume he’s highly debating it. His eyes shift around the tree the two of you currently lounge under. Sparing you a glance, he scoffs. Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s worth it, you wonder. It’s no matter to you. All it really means is more time spent frustrating him, teasing him beyond-

The ground crackles, splitting open with the presence of new roots. Bare branches rise and twist around the orange tree trunk. The deep green leaves sprout. Then, ripe figs bloom. They dangle closer to you than the oranges do. You don’t have much time to really admire them, however, as a loud rumble rattles your bones. The sound is enough to snap your fearful eyes to the seashore. Namjoon is gone.

Shit. Have you taken this too far? Namjoon did plant this tree for you. He had never so much so as looked at another mortal. His allegiance, devotion, and adoration has been declared to you on more than one occasion. You are all he ever sees, thinks, breathes. Swallowing thickly, you mentally call him back. It’s all in good fun, you try to convince him. A quiet hum from the other side of the line is enough to soothe your anxiety. You lean back into the other god.

Taehyung couldn’t be less concerned. Instead of searching for Namjoon, as you seem to be interested in doing, he latches his lips onto your shoulder, a single hand cupping your breast. You gasp. Taking this as an encouragement to continue, Taehyung trails a wet arrangement of open mouthed kisses along your neck. Lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he hisses, “Quite a fucking mouth, indeed.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your breast and continues, “Might need some good dick to keep it in check.”

The thought is appealing. So much so, that you cannot help the way your eyes widen and glisten with interest. Having his cock shoved down your throat while he growls at the sheer sight of it alone has compelled your undivided attention. But, Namjoon’s rage still scratches at your bones, warning you against playing too much.

You scoff. “Who says I don’t already have that?”

Taehyung does not reply. Not a smirk graces his lips nor breath escapes him. He simply leans in for a kiss. You find yourself giving in all too quickly. He slides his hand down to cup the space between your thighs and you cannot find it within you to push it away. In fact, you spread your legs further apart and tell yourself it’s reactive. The jolt of your hips up into his hand though… that might’ve been calculative.

But the simple gesture of rolling your hips into his palm has shown all your cards once more. He reclaims the power, pulling away from the kiss and your sex. He clutches onto your hair, a deadpan expression the only means of emotion now. In huffing silence, he yanks on your hair, guiding your head down to his crotch. You hiss, the gesture proving more pleasurable than painful as you feel a fresh rush of your wetness further stain your legs.

His silk skirt, pinned up and hanging from his hip by an arrowed, gold pin, lies in a disarried pile beside him. His huge cock is all that stands before you. He’s thicker than Namjoon, but, even with its impressive length, it does not compare to your boyfriend’s size. Taehyung is massive, but Namjoon is monstrous.

Your mouth still salivates all the same. Tip oozing precum, Taehyung shoves your face against his balls. His thick scent rolls your tongue out. Heavy in lust, he mostly smells of lemons and cream. You’ve always adored citrus… Namjoon knows this well. And though you expected to feel your boyfriend’s anger at this revelation, all you feel on the other side is emptiness. You wonder where he’s gone.

Or, at least you attempt to wonder. The moment you feel the impression of Taehyung’s weighty balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate. You swirl your tongue around each one before dropping them in your mouth. Suckling, drool dripping, your enthusiasm cannot be hidden any longer. Moaning maniactically, your eyes roll back.

Taehyung gasps and hisses. The peak of his groans, however, surfaces when you wrap a hand around his thick cock. You were ready to start pumping until you realized a single hand barely even covers half of him. Both hands wrapped around his length now, you twist and drag them up and down. Every so often, you tighten your grip a bit and let out a throaty moan. He shudders each time, legs trembling from your attention.

On your knees, with your ass up high for any onlookers to easily see, the wind lashes at your heat. You squeal, then pull his balls out of your mouth to spit on his cock. The thick wad makes it easier to pump him. Brows furrowed, he runs a hand through his golden hair and shakily sighs… then his sight sets on something behind you. He smirks, white canines a dangerous nod to his power.

A familiar hand rests on the small of your back, the other landing a harsh smack on your ass. You scream and fall forward onto Taehyung, face fully buried in his cock now. He laughs heartily, running a hand through your hair as a weak excuse for comfort.

The hand behind you does not stop after one smack. It goes in for second, then third, and before you know it, your ass is burning with stings and pussy wetter than the ocean behind you. The pain ignites something viciously erotic, cradling your heart enough to make you whimper. It’s the idea of being used, you assume, and it only makes you perk your ass up higher.

His raspy scoff makes you shiver, spine tingling with excitement. He gropes onto your ass and grunts, “Don’t try to be a good girl now.”

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Namjoon uses this harsh grip to shove your face further against Taehyung’s crotch. He pulls back and tries again, making sure your mouth engulfs his friend’s cock this time.

“You want to suck his cock, huh? Then fucking suck, you little slut,” he growls.

Your face flames with embarrassment. You can’t even bring yourself to meet Taehyung’s gaze. He merely laughs through a moan, leaning back on his hands as he watches you choke on his cock. You really can’t take him all in one go; you haven’t even found a way to take Namjoon in a single motion. But, your boyfriend couldn’t care less. He pushes your head down and keeps it there. Your jaw aches, throat burns, contracting around Taehyung’s thickness enough to make him throw his head back. Tears spill and spill and you foolishly think this will be the height of his punishment.

Then, in he goes.

“Such a wet little bitch,” Namjoon hisses as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

You let out a strangled whine against Taehyung, much to his pleasure, and attempt to spread your legs, but Namjoon keeps them in place. They’re barely a hip’s length apart. The pain prickles against your pussy’s wall, making you gag a sob around Taehyung’s cock. The pressure of Namjoon’s huge dick behind you and the weight of Taehyung’s in your mouth trembles your posture. You shake under the intimidation and it doesn’t help at all that Taehyung’s dick is suffocating you.

Namjoon pulls your head up the moment he fully enters. Gasping, you try to catch your breath. You inhale deeply each time, worried Namjoon will shove you back down on Taehyung’s cock without warning. Instead, he gives you a quick moment to breathe, ramming in and out of you like he’s riding a stallion.

Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, admires the way you drool and babble all over yourself. You heave, holding his gaze long enough to realize he’s mocking you, tongue out and breathes exasperated. Then he laughs and Namjoon laughs, and your pride shrivels up. Dignity on the brink of shattering, you try to avoid his gaze, biting your lip to swallow your moans as Namjoon works his way in and out of you.

But Taehyung will not have any of that. He nudges your wet chin back to him and teasingly pouts. “Is baby embarrassed?” he asks, tone more menacing than that taunting gaze of his. You glare at him, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Cupping your chin, Taehyung squeezes your cheeks to pucker your lips. “Answer me,” he seethes.

Parting your lips, you’re about to confirm his statement when Namjoon grunts behind you. He thrusts his hips particularly harder this time and your balance crumbles. You fall over Taehyung. He catches you with his lips, his hand trailing from your face to your neck and gripping onto it like he owns it.

Namjoon is displeased. With a growl, he snaps his hips up, balls shoving their way in you too. Your teeth knock with Taehyung, causing him to grunt and glare at the god behind you. You watch him stare your boyfriend down while tightening his grip on your neck. He goes to say something, a curse judging by the placement of his lips in his teeth, but Namjoon pulls you out of his grasp before Taehyung can even get a syllable out.

Replacing Taehyung’s hand with his own on your neck, Namjoon pulls you back up against his chest. His other hand wraps around your waist. Lips to the shell of your ear, he hammers into you and whispers, “Don’t go forgetting who you belong to.”

You hold Taehyung’s hard stare. His face reddens, cheeks drawn into his mouth as he glares. You whimper, pouting and nodding to Namjoon, but neither one of them seems convinced. Taehyung’s brows raise as if you’ve given him some sort of sign, and Namjoon’s hissing warnings against getting carried away.

“Better not say his name.”

Out of sheer spite, you part your lips to utter the other’s name. However, the word is consequently pounded right out of your mind the moment it emerges. Neither god gives you another moment to develop a reply at all as they battle for your attention. A part of you wishes that each of them simply takes turns, but you already know how useless that would be. Neither one of them will be willing to wait and watch. Namjoon already slipped himself in, the act of watching being too distant for him.

And it seems to be the same for Taehyung as well. He can’t sit still, can’t just watch you get ravished by someone else. You catch the annoyed twinkle in his eye darkening every time Namjoon makes you scream. Swallowing thickly, Taehyung shifts so that he’s lying by your knees and pulls the plump, upper flesh of your pussy apart. Then, smirking, he dips his head in and enthusiastically sucks on your clit. Teeth grazing, he bites and nibbles, drawing the most high-pitched squeals out of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face further against your pussy.

Namjoon huffs a groan against your cheek. Pounding in full force, he loosens his grip on you a bit. Your hips jolt forward, Taehyung’s teeth clamping down on your clit. You cry out, both hands back over Namjoon’s arm. The god by your knees did not escape unscathed either, his lips slightly bruised from the hit. He drags his gaze up to you, glare deadly.

Guts twisting in ecstasy and guilt, you whimper and shake your head. “Sorr-”

Your apology clinches in your throat as Namjoon tightens his grip on it. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he grunts into your hair.

Taehyung catches onto Namjoon’s sly gesture quickly, hungry eyes aflame for vengeance. “Keep her still, or I’ll fuck her into the ground.” His deep voice tickles the swirling pit of your stomach. So rich and raspy, his dulcet voice guides you closer to your orgasm than you’d be brave enough to admit.

Subsequently, Taehyung relatches his lips to your clit. Namjoon swallows enough of his pride not to shake him off again. And you shudder as high doses of ecstasy creep over your nerves. It pumps your veins with excitement, anticipation and sheer joy. Even when they’ve mocked you and used you as a pocket pussy- a set of holes, you cannot deny how horny it makes you for them.

Namjoon huffs your name in your ear, whispering about your tightness, about how he knows how fucking close you are. “Baby is gonna cream,” he mockingly coos. “Do you want him to taste you? Are you that much of a slut, you want another man to taste you? He’ll get addicted.” Namjoon grunts thrice before continuing, “But you already know that, right? You want him addicted. You want him to worship that little cunt of yours, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck yes!” you screech. Whether it is in reply to his questions or simply a reaction to the dual assault of your pussy, you’re not quite certain. But, Namjoon is. And he’s irate. Shaking with anger, his pounds reach a pace unknown to gods, even Taehyung raises an impressed brow.

Your next intake of air cinches somewhere in your throat. You try to scream, to cry, to make some sort of sound as your cum rushes out of you. Gushing, slouching, your pussy makes enough noise that your mouth doesn’t need to. Both men fall victim to it - to you - anyway. Squirming in Namjoon’s hold, there’s very little you can do. Your mind is foggy, vision blurry, but it doesn’t stop either of them. A distant clash of throaty moans fill the fields, though you can’t register much of that either. Your ears are ringing too much to hear more than your own heartbeat struggling to keep up.

Taehyung growls, his hands constantly knocking against Namjoon’s. Your dazed gaze falls to meet his. Eyes blazed with sexual frustration, he claws at your hips and pulls you forward against him. Namjoon, however, keeps a strong hold on your waist. Your torso’s his for the taking. He grabs hold of your chin and whips your head back to him.

“You look at me when you cum,” he seethes. “Or you won’t cum at all next time.”

Half a breath escapes you in response, but it seems to be half a breath too late. Namjoon emits a raspy groan so sinister it would be a crime to simply call it a growl. He roars. You feel the vibrations of the sound in your spine, another dose of your cum rushing through you. Then, all too quickly, he lets go of you. It takes his hands off your chest for you to realize your legs gave out long ago. You instantly fall to your knees. Taehyung is quick to catch you in his arms. Lips inches apart, Taehyung looks ready to share some of his oxygen with you when Namjoon orders, “Turn her around.”

Taehyung glares over your head. Gulping, his lips twitch in a fake smile as he lifts you. You, however, cannot let him give in that easily. Besides, nothing is better than angering the god of war. His stubborn, victory-bound heart will not rest until you submit to him over Taehyung. And, throwing you into the enemy’s arms does not seem like he’s trying hard enough to win, to discipline you. So, after Taehyung turns you around in his lap, you press a passionate kiss upon his lips, slipping your tongue in for good measure. Taehyung snakes his hand between your legs too, fingers playing all too much for you to stay silent. Between kisses, you sneak a glance at Namjoon, finding Taehyung already doing the same thing.

Towering over you, skin inked, nipples pierced, muscles flexed and slick with sweat, Namjoon huffs. His jaw is locked, a gesture you’ve learned isn’t at all meant to be comforting. With his cheeks sucked in and a brow quirked, Namjoon jerks himself off to the sight of you so openly defiant.

“Open your dirty mouth,” Namjoon orders through gritted teeth. “I need to clean it out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, his fingers ceasing their movements as he cups your sex instead. “So dramatic,” he teases, earning a cold stare from Namjoon.

You resist the urge to giggle, having to choose your battles carefully. Taehyung has already gotten too much attention anyways, you decide. Pushing his hand away from your pussy, you ignore the wet kisses Taehyung peppers upon the nape of your neck and gaze up at Namjoon with your mouth open.

He bites his lip to keep from smirking. And, with a loud, chest drawn groan, he releases his load all over your chin and breasts. The warmth of his cum sets your skin ablaze. It feels just as thick as it tastes. Licking around your face, you try to swallow whatever you can get. A little smile breaks out on Namjoon’s face, swelling your heart with pride.

However, Taehyung isn’t as moved by the gesture as you are. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls your head back against his shoulder. “That’s enough of that,” he breathes over your face. Then he wipes the rest of Namjoon’s cum off with the pad of his thumb and pecks your lips. He rubs the cum into your nipples, teasing them between his thumb and forefinger.

You almost forget Namjoon's presence. That is, until he grabs hold of your ankles and yanks you right out of Taehyung’s hold. With a loud gasp, you’re on your back, legs spread and Namjoon at the center. He gazes lazily down at you, like handling your body is a casual passtime. There is something glittering within that suspicious ease, however. Something cocky, angry, and terrifying. Hand around your neck, Namjoon jerks you off the floor and shoves you back into Taehyung’s arms.

The golden god catches you with a grunt. He draws his brows together in confusion, silently questioning Namjoon. He parts his lips, but your boyfriend huffs, cutting him off. Namjoon grabs you by your bicep and turns you around to face Taehyung.

After making sure your legs are spread and straddling the other god’s waist, Namjoon seethes, “The simplest instructions.” His warm tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. Between nibbles he continues, “You can’t even follow the simplest instructions. That can’t be easily forgiven anymore, baby.”

You’re not quite sure what he means, considering he’s never punished you in this position before. Usually, being on top is a reward. He grants you a sliver of control, consequence free, when you’ve been well-behaved. This level of generosity is a rarity. However, as Namjoon pushes you further into Taehyung, with you wrapped around his torso, you begin to wonder what kind of punishment you’re in for, and which one of them is administering it.

Of course, these thoughts are fleeting as Taehyung’s fat cock prods around your pulsing hole. Sparks of bliss set to flames the nerves bunching around your clit. You shudder each time he brushes his tip against it. Petting your hair back just to grab it, Taehyung breathes a chuckle into the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks on your delicate skin like you belong to him. And for a split second, you almost think you do. The sweet, wet kisses and the way he eases into you only just has you forgetting that Namjoon is standing over you, watching as another god worships.

With a smack, your memories jolt back. The sting of both cheeks makes you all too aware of his presence now. You cry out, falling over Taehyung clumsily. The spank hit so hard, so fast that it even has Namjoon hissing from the impact. Even still, he smacks you again and again and again. “You still have no idea what you’ve asked for, do you?” he questions.

You thought you did. You hoped you did. But, as Namjoon spanks you with added force, you realize just how right he is. You whimper into Taehyung’s shoulder. He’s kept his cock warm in your tight, clenching hole when Namjoon begins to get vicious with his spanks. Chuckling and mocking you in whispers, Taehyung finds your suddenly all too obedient state entertaining. It flames your face with shame, your entire body caught between wanting another serving of cock or slaps. He imitates your whimpers, coaxing more tears out of you before hissing, “If you had any real shame, you’d get off my cock and go suck your boyfriend’s.”

“She’s a fucking slut,” Namjoon answers, landing another slap to your tenders cheeks. “Why’d you stop fucking her?”

Some humanity flashes in Taehyung’s eyes as you nuzzle your face against his. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, “She can’t handle it.”

“She can!” Namjoon grunts as he finally rubs your pain buzzed ass. A shaky whine escapes you and tickles Taehyung’s ear. “You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, digging his nails into your flesh.

You whine in agreement. It’s not enough. He needs to hear you say- scream it. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he peels you off Taehyung enough for him to get a good look at your face. He folds his hands under his head, smirking at the sight of you so shattered by pleasure of being in pain. Face flushed, wet, cum stained and eyes innocent, your features fold in raptured anguish.

Namjoon roughly kneads your right cheek while pressing the length of his cock against it. “Can you take the fucking like a good girl?” He mockingly coos. It juts a chorus of shivers down your spine.

You squeeze tight around Taehyung at the thought. He rasps your name. Namjoon growls lowly, rubbing himself against you as he warns, “You’re not gonna make me ask you a third time, are you?”

Taehyung shifts his hips, cinching your breath at your throat from the stroke of friction. Why did he have to be so big, so pretty and hot staring at you like that? Why’d you have to go tempting gods you know you can’t keep up with? You regret angering Namjoon, realizing that jealousy is the worst power trip you can feed a god. They both want to watch you fall apart, crumble into a pile of bones. Tears spill at the thought, pussy aching around a cock too big to adjust to. Every nerve feels so sensitive, so overused, yet you need to cum again.

No. You can’t take it. But, you’ll be damned if you tell either of them that. And as Namjoon lays another sharp smack on your cheeks, tingling with pain, you circle your hips around Taehyung’s and cry out a broken, breathy and utterly desperate, “Y-es!”

Taehyung grips onto your hips, pulling you half out. You expect to be plunged onto his cock with a new degree of force, but find another one attempting to squeeze in as well. Namjoon’s monster cock pushing into your pussy alongside Taehyung’s. Your jaw drops, eyes roll back as that viciously delicious stretch strangles your soul with bliss. He enters you slow, but sharp, knowing full well that the both of them cannot fit.

Neither cares. Both gods create a quickly speeding rhythm of thrusts into you. Body jolting forwards, breasts shaking over Taehyung’s face and ass bouncing against Namjoon’s hips. He hunches over you to groan your name in your ear, voice husky with lust and dominance. He repeats the word like a prayer. Every syllable drips slow out of his lips like thick molasses when his voice reaches such depth.

You try to lean back into him, but Taehyung keeps you in place with the tight grip on your hips. “Stay still,” he grunts against your nipple. Then, he sucks on it, teasing the little nub between his teeth.

You moan a little too loud at Taehyung’s ministrations for Namjoon’s liking. Both hands locked on your ass, Namjoon pushing your cheek up and against Taehyung. You lose whatever balance you had weighted on your arms, falling flat against the sun god with a squeal. His cock fully plugs into you and when he tries to thrust up against you once more, Namjoon growls, “Both of you stay still.”

A shiver tickles your spine with the wind. As Taehyung kisses your neck, you attempt to sneak a peek at your boyfriend over your shoulder and push your ass back into him. He’s sweaty and huffing. The peachy sunset behind him halos around his muscular frame. He’s so pretty when he’s mad, all those veins lacing his inked skin like little spider webs. His gaze finds yours, that annoyed look intensifying in his eyes when you wink at him.

And though it was completely innocent, it still switches something off in Namjoon. He shifts his tight grip on your ass to the small of your back then, all at once, presses down onto it with the entirety of his strength. A series of loud cracks elicit from your spine like the fire of a gun at the start of a race. And away go his hips as he rams in and out of your too full pussy.

Screams and sudden sobs pour out of you and onto Taehyung as the both of you get shaken by Namjoon’s force. You know your back isn’t broken, blown out maybe, but definitely not broken. You just didn’t think this would be the result of his jealousy and anger. Did he think you were mocking him with that wink, with Taehyung? Perhaps some mocking did occur with Taehyung around, but he’s always liked your snarkier side. He tells you to behave because he knows you won’t and adores it when you don’t. But, maybe you did take it too far, and give into Taehyung too much. You really wish you can say, with all this overstimulating and teasing and taunting, that you regret it all.

Only, you don’t.

Clutching tighter onto Taehyung’s shoulders, your tears fall as freely as your broken moans. Namjoon smacks his hips over your ass, pounding your pussy like it’s just you two here. It’s not as though Taehyung is lying under you, obsessing over how tight you are and just how amazing you smell.

“You know why he’s so mad right,” he questions quietly, voice strained. When you shake your head, he chuckles and whispers, “Because he knows how much better I make you feel.”

The whimper that leaves you was by no means a response to whatever Taehyung was going on about. Though he gives it to you great, he doesn’t compare to your boyfriend. You suppose Namjoon knows this too, somewhere within that deep connection you two share. Still, he holds you further down against Taehyung, practically melding your body into his, and thrusts at an ungodly speed just as he did when he caught you sucking Taehyung’s cock.

You’re not sure either of them understand the load of pleasure they are washing over you. Taehyung has his giant cock stationed in your pussy with his tip pressing continuously against your g-spot as Namjoon’s monstrous cock jabs at it again and again.

Body trembling, voice broken, you squeal, “I’m- ahhgh I’m gon-na cuu-uum.”

“Me too,” Taehyung husks in your ear. It has you clenching tighter.

Namjoon scoffs through a moan. “No, you’re fucking not.”

“But, Joon-”

A harsh smack against your ass silences your protests. “You know what to do when you’re close,” he grunts.

Yes, you do. But there isn’t much time to beg. You have two huge cocks in you and if he thinks he can coax some sort of plea-

“Fuck,” you cry as he spanks you again.

“ASK!” he roars, hands on your back just to make it crack all over again.

Drooling, whimpering, eyes rolling, you somehow find it in you to hold back your orgasm long enough to beg, “Please, fuck, just let me cum! Please, please, Namjoon!”

“Just fucking let her cum,” Taehyung grunts.

Namjoon snakes one of his hands up your spine, hips still ramming into you all the same, and latching onto your hair. Slowly, he peels you off of Taehyung and holds you against his chest. You screw your eyes shut in an attempt not to cream both their cocks.

With his lips at your ear, he whispers, “Look down at him.” After forcing your eyes open and down at Taehyung, who looks all too pleased with your ruined state, Namjoon orders, “Thank him for a good time.”

Panting, lips a spitty mess, you whimper, “Thank you for a good time.”

Taehyung rubs your thighs. “She’s just as fun when she’s a good girl,” he hisses to himself.

Namjoon chuckles, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “You’re my best girl either way,” he whispers to you. The praise makes you shiver, your orgasm almost slipping right out of your control.

“Please let me cum now,” you cry. “Please, I need it.”

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Namjoon peppers little kisses along your jawline. “Shall we all cum together?” he asks before nodding to Taehyung. The sun god’s hips jolt back to act and soon each one is back to taking turns to smash your already too sensitive spot.

You nod energetically. Truthfully, you don’t care if either one of them cums, just as long as they let you do it now.

Taehyung shifts one of his hands further up your hips, his thumb working fast and small circles over your clit. You’re quaking, head thrown back against Namjoon’s shoulders, eyes rolling and screwed shut when Namjoon orders you to look at him. You force them open enough to watch a wicked swirl of power and lust gleam in his eyes. With a single breath, lips hovering over yours, he whispers, “Cum.”

Your vision spots black before failing all together as an extreme dose of ecstasy floods your senses. Their growls collide with your breathless screams in a cacophony of pleasure with each shot of cum they fill you with. And you return the favour, coating each cock with more cum than you think you’ve ever offered. In and out, they still go, desperate to leave you dripping with the impression of both of them for days.

Namjoon spits in your mouth a bit and chuckles quietly when you still find it in you to swallow it. “You just had to be a fucking brat, hmm?” he groans as both his and Taehyung’s thrusts slow down. “Are you satisfied now?”

You hear his words and think that maybe you are processing them, but you really can’t find enough of your voice or energy to respond. Heaving, you know your body gave out well before he even got you in this position and blew your back out. You don’t even realize that you’re slobbering all over yourself until Namjoon licks it all away. Only little whimpers and whines manage to reply to him. It only strengthens that power blown look in his eyes.

Taehyung suddenly pulls himself out of you. Or rather, Namjoon pulls you up and off his cock. Then, he stands up on his knees and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, despite Namjoon’s annoyed groan. “And thank you for such a great evening, my-”

“She’s not yours!”

You watch through somewhat blurry vision as the two gods glare at each other. Taehyung then glances over at the fig vines laced around the orange tree. With a smirk, he nods. His hands fondle your breast one more time before he grabs what little clothes he came with. Then, with the sun, he’s gone.

Basking in the glow of the moon, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you. His touches are now all too gentle to even register, or maybe your skin is simply still on fire from such a rough fucking. Either way, he’s careful in how he handles you now. Cradling you to his chest, he helps you lay down. He kisses your forehead and mutters, “Take a deep breath.”

You do so. Again and again. When you’re breathing somewhat regulates, your mind finally catches up with where you are now. Resting in Namjoon’s arms, his silk skirt draped over your body like a blanket, you gaze up at the stars.

“He planted figs,” Namjoon mutters.

You shift against his chest before shrugging. “He did.” You’re not sure why that simple detail seems to tick him off so much. They’re just figs.

“Do you still like oranges though?”

It suddenly clicks in your head. His anger translating into worry. Does he really think that you’d give him up for Taehyung? He should know you well enough to know he’s your world. And if you weren’t so sore or weak, you would have gotten up and picked the ripest orange and shared it with him. Instead, you turn in his lap, suppressing the urge to hiss at the sparks of pain running up and down your back, and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love oranges.”

He fights off a smile, but relief reflects in his gaze. “I’m sure they love you too,” he mutters like he hasn’t told you so before.

It all doesn’t matter too much anyways. He’s yours and you’re his. No other god, no matter how many times they stop by, will change that. This is, after all, your orange tree.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

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aschlindartroom · 2 years ago

Note

Genre swap ask game: 18!

Oooooo a SLASHER AU.

Okay okay, let me think...

GOT IT.

SO.

Seung Kim is a new counselor at [insert oddly prophetic summer camp name here]. She's joined up and hitchhiked across the country to work there because her father-- an abusive sombitch who disappeared almost four years ago-- used to work there and tell her stories all the time as a kid. Since his death, she hasn't been able to let his disappearance go, so she's hoping to find some closure.

She arrives about a week early, as scheduled. Ehren is another counselor there, and his brother Eckehart runs the place along with his co-leader, Bhakti. Martin is the book-keeper/coordinator. Egon, Rhen, Antoni, and Kannon are also counselors.

The first night, around a campfire, Antoni tells the story of the summer over 15 years ago, when an entire group of counselors was murdered-- literally torn to pieces all over the campground. Local police determined that it was a bear or some other animal, but they didn't publicize all of the weird occult symbols that were painted all over the place.

Bhakti, Antoni, Rhen, and Kannon kidnap Seung to use her as a human sacrifice that night, explaining that during that summer 15 years ago, a few of the counselors were trying to summon a God to give them occult power, but royally fucked it up hence the massacre.

It gets fucked up again. Queue a slender man/Jason-type camp romp/escape narrative. During the ritual Seung was given strange powers.

...I'd write this. xD Sounds fun.

Thanks for the ask @aohendo!!!

#second serpent asks #second serpent #bird and fish #writeblr #writing community #second serpent wip #writers of tumblr #novel #bird and fish wip

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redactar · 3 years ago

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5 SONGS THAT DESCRIBE YOUR MUSE

1) Spectrum - Survive Said the Prophet

2) Drown - Bring Me The Horizon

3) Paralyzed - NF

4) Crossfire - stephen

5) Ghost - Au/Ra

Tagged by: @gatheringstars thx u

Tagging: @fasciinating , @dilffactory for darcy, @trepidaticn for kim ...and whoever else

#drag the lake and take me home (aesthetic)

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doiefy · 4 years ago

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rhythm // kim doyoung

genre: fluff, hogwarts!au pairing: slytherin!doyoung x female reader word count: 0.9 k

at some point while writing this I started rewatching order of the phoenix because I thought I could multitask,, boy was I wrong. enjoy my attempt at fluff.

Doyoung spun the two of you around the Great Hall, guiding your dance with a certain fluidity and grace you didn’t know he possessed. His steps were light; he was always careful but sure, perfectly in time with the string quartet.

It was a stark contrast to the Kim Doyoung you were used to: the perfect example of a Slytherin, cunning and intelligent, ambitious in every way possible. The one who had all the right answers to the professors’ most challenging questions and the one who competed with you endlessly in every class you shared. At first, his silent ambition made him seem cold and apathetic, and the way he held his head up so high had only fueled your contempt for him. You’d judged him harshly upon your first meeting, only to realize that he was much more than what meets the eye. In his ambition, there was also kindness. In his confidence, there was empathy.

Tonight, he was all polite gestures and warm smiles, gentle hands on your waist and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. Dressed in black robes with his hair parted nearly, he looked striking and effortlessly elegant among the sea of guests. Of all the Triwizard Tournament Champions dancing alongside you, he was the only one who had your attention, the only one you had bet money on—the professors might not have approved of gambling, but it’d recently become a favourite pastime in the Slytherin common room.

You wore a gown that matched his dress robes: a silver-embroidered black skirt that flowed all the way down to your ankles and an emerald green bodice to match. You’d pulled your hair into a braided bun and pinned it in place with the serpent-shaped hair clip Doyoung had given you earlier. But as much as you adored the dress (and perhaps you’d paid a bit too much for it), it weighed you down, the skirt threatening to sweep you off balance as you danced. You hung onto Doyoung tightly, following his rhythm as best as you could—as if a single wrong move could send you crashing. You felt like a child learning to walk, a young bird thrown out of the nest without the ability to properly fly yet.

But Doyoung thought you were stunning; there was a distinct brightness in his eyes when he looked at you and curiosity in the way he softly held your gaze. He’d looked at you like that earlier when Donghyuck had finished fixing your hair. And he looked at you like that now. You tilted your head up to ask, “What is it?”

He smiled. “Nothing. You look beautiful.”

You flushed at the compliment, fumbling for the right words to say. A familiar look returned to his eyes almost immediately and you prepared yourself for whatever teasing remark could come next.

“Cat got your tongue?” By now, you were used to his relentless teasing and nagging. The kind words he offered you were always offset by some sort of joke, his congratulations paired with taunts for you to do better, though you knew it was all out of good intent. Even when he asked you out to the Yule Ball, the parchment note he’d passed you in the middle of Potions was signed with a snarky comment.

“Shut up, Kim,” you mumbled, though you were smiling. “Yeah, you too. You... look good.”

He raised a brow. “What was that?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“What if I want to hear it again?”

You slapped his arm gently, sending him an annoyed glare. He laughed, and to your disbelief, pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You were speechless for a moment as heat rapidly rose to your cheeks. “That bitch journalist probably saw you do that, you know,” you finally said when you remembered the obnoxious reporter in charge of covering the events of the tournament. She was always more interested in the personal lives of the champions than she was in the tournament itself. “You sure you want your face all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow? I can see the headlines already… Hogwarts Triwizard Champion caught in scandalous love affair—”

“And you think I care?” He grinned. “No one believes a damn thing she writes anyways.”

“Mm, you’d be surprised. People believe in the craziest things. Especially when it comes to you.”

His steps faltered for a moment as he slowed to a near-halt. The sudden change in pace had you stumble in your heels, but he was quick to catch you. With his hand around yours, he led you away from the mass of moving bodies and into the shadows casted by the colossal walls of the room. “Let them believe what they want to believe,” he murmured. “I don’t care what they think of me when it comes to you.”

He pulled you closer, his lips finally meeting yours. After months of mutual pining, after weeks of tiptoeing around your feelings for each other because neither of you could work up the courage to address them, something about it felt like such a huge relief. Like the weight had finally been lifted from your shoulders. You let out a content sigh against his lips, allowed yourself to fall deeper into his embrace.

Your dance continued in a secluded corner of the Great Hall, though it now followed no set tempo. The string quartet long forgotten, the two of you swayed to your own rhythm, your own melody, following a score only you could read.

#nct #nct 127 #nct doyoung #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #doyoung fanfic #kim dongyoung #nct au

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 3 years ago

Text

Crescent || Chapter 16

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 6,904 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character, Torture, Mentions of Slavery more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: None Apply

Summary:

"The thing I haven't told you is..." Wooyoung bit his lower lip. There was really no easy way to say it. "The eight of us are supposed to be together... romantically."

AO3

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

Tagged: @angel0taiyo

The dream had changed. They were no longer in the gardens of the Kim castle, but instead they were at the top of a hill under the night sky. Wooyoung looked around, realizing that this was probably a residue from a memory Yunho had been dreaming about. Hongjoong smiled wide and ran to hug his boyfriend, excited that Wooyoung had succeeded.

Wooyoung stayed behind for a bit, worried that Yunho might think of him as an enemy. However, Yunho looked around in wonder, almost instantly realizing he was dreaming once he saw the place they were at. Wooyoung smiled at him, shyly raising his hand as a form of greeting. Honjoong whispered something to Yunho, quickly, before grabbing his hand and bringing him forward to meet Wooyoung.

"So you're the mysterious dream-man." Yunho said, looking down at Wooyoung, who was in turn looking at Hongjoong.

"Yes?" Wooyoung’s voice was a little thin. He knew Yunho was handsome, but he did look better seeing him in person.

"His name is Wooyoung, not dream-man," Hongjoong huffed. "He was the one who convinced me to keep Yeosang and told me how to help Seonghwa."

"So you're the reason we have more mouths to feed?" Yunho raised an eyebrow, but his tone was joking. It still made Wooyoung blush slightly in embarrassment.

"It was necessary," Hongjoong supplied for him. "He's a Somnum, so he had a prophetic dream that involves us and those two 'extra mouths', so I guess we're tied by fate." Wooyoung nodded in agreement.

"I haven't told you everything though, besides the other thing I said I couldn't tell you..." Wooyoung's volume decreased as he spoke, realizing how bad that sounded.

"Care to give me a rundown?" Yunho asked, a little bit more serious.

Wooyoung nodded. He took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts. He couldn't tell them about the main issue itself, yet, but he owed to at least tell them where things were going, so that they could get ready. Wooyoung knew that even without him telling them, things were already on their way there. He had seen the visions, the little interactions between the seven of them.

"Well, Hongjoong already gave you an idea of who I am." Wooyoung began. "Aside from Yeosang and Seonghwa, there's also San, Mingi and Jongho involved."

"So that's eight of us?" Yunho looked at Hongjoong for confirmation, and Hongjoong nodded.

"We're going to influence an important historical event, but I cannot tell you how yet because it might change the results and we can't afford that." Wooyoung smiled apologetically.

"And what's the thing you haven't told me?" Hongjoong asked, a little confused because he already knew those things.

"The thing I haven't told you is..." Wooyoung bit his lower lip. There was really no easy way to say it. "The eight of us are supposed to be together... romantically."

There was a prolonged moment of silence as Hongjoong and Yunho processed his answer. Hongjoong's eyes seemed to widen as he understood what Wooyoung was saying. Yunho, on the other hand, looked very serious.

"See, I told you it was completely fine if you showed interest in any of the other crew members." He deadpanned finally, looking at Hongjoong.

"Shut up!" Hongjoong yelled in return, punching Yunho on the arm.

Wooyoung chuckled, quite relieved that Yunho was taking it so calmly, and even with a little bit of humor. He had been worried at first, because he didn't know Yunho as well as the others, but he seemed by far the least concerned out of the three of them. Hongjoong blushed slightly, embarrassed at being exposed like that in front of Wooyoung.

"It's okay, I sort of had insight on what's happening already," Wooyoung smiled, once again sensing Hongjoong's thoughts. "Don't be too concerned about it, it's not going to be quite prominent yet, but I know it's already happening." He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing Hongjoong.

"So what, we're going to earn six boyfriends each?" Yunho asked, finding it a little comical.

"I mean if you're willing to take in six more boyfriends, then yes, sure." Wooyoung chuckled. "Even my visions aren't set in stone, things can change... But I'd like to think they won't. It's a little different when you can see the possible future."

Yunho stared at Wooyoung, evaluating him. Wooyoung felt exposed. He knew Yunho had perfectly understood what he had meant before. As unfortunate as it was, Wooyoung had already begun falling in love with them, getting to know them through his visions of their individual pasts and the future they could have together. He didn't want those visions to not come through, but he knew there was a chance of that happening. Yunho sighed, interrupting his train of thought.

"Well, if everyone else is here already... When will we get to meet you?" Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"Ah- Soon!" Wooyoung hurried to say. He couldn't reveal the details yet, but he knew there wasn't much time left. "I'm actually getting ready to head your way, but I am still a bit far away, so it'll still be some time until we meet."

"I see..." Yunho nodded.

"We don't need to go pick you up, right? You're not in some sort of dangerous situation?" Honjoong asked, looking a little concerned. Wooyoung smiled. Hongjoong was always so kind.

"Not at all," Wooyoung shook his head. "I'm perfectly fine, you don't need to wait for me. I'll arrive to you eventually. I do need to leave now though, since I still have to go visit the others."

"Will you tell them about...?" Hongjoong hesitated towards the end, still unable to wrap his head around the idea that the eight of them were supposed to be together. Wooyoung couldn't blame him, especially since Hongjoong had been torturing himself so much about keeping his identity secret.

"I ought them the truth," Wooyoung smiled. "Good night Hongjoong, good night Yunho."

Wooyoung is not surprised when he appears in the mines once again. He knows Mingi misses his family immensely, and he feels a little bad for always appearing there to interrupt his dreams of them. However, this time it is necessary, and he thinks Mingi might appreciate it. So he walks through the familiar path of the underground city until he reaches the nursery where Mingi reads stories to the kids.

When Mingi looks up at him, his smile grows wide and his cheeks turn slightly red. The kids disappear, but the two of them are still at the nursery. Wooyoung approaches Mingi and sits next to him, close enough that their arms are brushing. They haven't seen each other since the last time, where Wooyoung had left him after panicking for making the situation between them turn so intimate. He regrets that a little.

"How have you been?" Mingi asks first.

"Good," Wooyoung nods. "I'm sorry for last time."

"Ah-" Mingi's blush grows. "Don't worry about it." He coughs, and Wooyoung smiles, endeared.

"I'm here to give you the explanation I owe you, about who I am and why I'm visiting your dreams." Wooyoung began explaining, grabbing Mingi's right hand. "But I was wondering if you would mind if I bring Jongho here? Visiting dreams is a little exhausting and I would like to kill two birds with one stone."

"Ah, about that..."

"What? You two still haven't talked about the kiss?" Wooyoung grinned, softly pushing Mingi, who let out a strained yelp.

"Y-You knew about that?" Mingi was glowing bright red.

"Yeah, I can't really control all of the visions I get, sorry." Wooyoung shrugged, a little ashamed. "But you'll probably want to talk to him after what I'm going to tell you."

"O-Oh..." Mingi nodded. "Then I guess it's better if you bring him here."

"Thank you." Wooyoung smiled.

He closed his eyes and repeated the process he had carried out with Hongjoong and Yunho. It was far easier this time, now that he knew how it felt and how to do it. He found Jongho's dream. It took him by surprise how faint it felt, like he wasn't even dreaming, but Wooyoung managed to hold onto it and bring it closer and closer until the two dreams turned into one.

"Woah..." Mingi exclaimed next to him. "I can't believe you actually did it, is he real?"

"Mingi?" Jongho asked. "What is this? Who is that? Where are we?" He asked the questions one after another, looking around in confusion.

"My name is Wooyoung," He smiled comprehensively. "We are in Mingi's dream, although I'm a little surprised it basically didn't change at all."

"Was it supposed to?" Mingi asked, curiously gazing at Wooyoung.

"Well, at least it happened with Hongjoong and Yunho, but maybe that's because they know each other from before?" Wooyoung shrugged, not really having an answer for that.

"You... know Hongjoong and Yunho?" Jongho asked, looking a little wary. "Are you the one who told Mingi about Seonghwa?"

"Yes, that would be me..." Wooyoung nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself to you until now..."

"It's fine..." Jongho finally approached them and sat in front of them.

He noticed how Wooyoung was grabbing Mingi's hand but made no comment about it. He was panicking a little about it inside, though. Had Jongho kissed Mingi while he was dating someone else? Jongho didn't want to put Mingi in such a difficult situation. Maybe he should apologize, although it didn't seem like Mingi was too worried.

"I'll explain to you first, okay?" Wooyoung smiled. He explained first about his species, his visions and the mission they had together. He didn't tell them about their ultimate goal, like he hadn't told Hongjoong and Yunho before. "The last thing you should know is... the eight of us are supposed to uh... date? Each other." Wooyoung scratched his head, feeling awkward.

"W-What?!" Mingi yelled, clearly surprised by the revelation.

"L-Look, it doesn't actually have to happen, if you don't want it to, it's just what my visions say." Wooyoung quickly tried to excuse himself, taken aback by Mingi's surprise.

"Huh, I see." Jongho hummed, taking all of the information in.

"It doesn't... surprise you?" Wooyoung asked, disconcerted. He had expected that kind of reaction even less.

"No, of course it does." Jongho chuckled. "But I'm the kind to just... take things as they come, I suppose." He shrugged. "What do you think the three of us have a date inside Mingi's dream?"

"A date?" Wooyoung couldn't help but raise his voice, more than surprised. "W-Why?"

"Well, if this is going to happen, we might as well, right?" Jongho chuckled. He offered them his hands to help them stand up.

"Do I have any say in this?" Mingi asked, voice low and insecure as he accepted Jongho's hand and stood up.

"If what you're going to say has anything to do with you being too nervous to come with us, then no." Jongho said, but he was only joking, and made sure to let Mingi know. "But for real, this doesn't have to be serious, it's just a dream."

"Please?" Wooyoung looked at Mingi as well, a pleading expression on his face.

"O-Okay." Mingi nodded.

Jongho helped Wooyoung up and then, with a snap of his fingers, Wooyoung changed the scenery they were in. Instead of the mines, he brought them to his town in Oniris. He had only shown Hongjoong his room before, but this time he wanted to show Mingi and Jongho a little more about himself. Wooyoung desperately wanted the others to trust him and accept him, because his feelings depended on that.

The town itself was small and not very populated. Most of the buildings were small and looked like domes. The surface was reflective because of the solar panels they used to obtain their energy. Jongho and Mingi looked around in wonder. Everything in the land was so clean and open. The grass was well cut and maintained, and there were trees along the main streets. It didn't seem like the town had a defined structure, but more like it followed the shape of the earth itself.

"Welcome to my home," Wooyoung smiled. He offered them his hands and they took them. His smile widened, happy that they were accepting to do this with him.

The reconstruction of his town in the dreams wasn't perfect. It took a lot of energy to keep it up, so he was just focusing on the area they were in instead of trying to expand the vision infinitely. He took them around the town and talked to them a little about it, revealing more of himself to them than he had ever done to anyone else. Wooyoung was excited. His word had been small and confined to Oniris for such a long time, that talking about it to someone else felt unreal.

"I'll take you to see my house, and then maybe I can take you to my favorite place in the town." He suggested.

"Of course." Jongho nodded, enthusiastic. Mingi nodded too, but he was silent as his wide eyes tried to burn the memory in his brain. Wooyoung wasn't sure how much they would remember once they woke up, but their effort made him happy.

When they got to his house, he felt an immediate pang of nostalgia as he thought of his parents. He missed them both so much. He talked about them passionately as he showed them around the house, tearing up a little when he saw the empty house. Mingi stopped him for a moment to give him a tight hug. Wooyoung buried his face on Mingi's chest and took a few deep breaths, as Jongho patted his back comfortingly.

Once he had calmed down, he smiled at both of them with shining eyes and thanked them. Then, deciding he didn't want to ruin the mood anymore, he grabbed their hands and guided them out of the house. They still had one more place to visit before he had to leave and visit the other three people he was missing. Wooyoung had been thinking about it, but in the end he had decided he would be alone with San, as he knew the other would prefer that.

"Okay, here we are!" Wooyoung exclaimed, gesturing towards a dome slightly smaller than the others.

Jongho and Mingi looked very confused, but followed Wooyoung inside nonetheless. There wasn't much inside the little dome but an empty reception desk. Wooyoung went around it and guided them towards a trap on the floor. When he pulled it up, the door gave way to a set of wooden stairs.

They went down the stairs into a room carefully illuminated by candelabrum. It was like walking into another era. The room was incredibly cozy, furnished with couches and sofas all around. The walls were covered with bookcases full of all sorts of tomes, even though it was an outdated practice. In the center, there was a majestic piano. The model looked like it must be quite old, but the piano itself was so well taken care of that it looked almost brand new.

Wooyoung walked away from them and examined the piano, making sure it was in top shape, although it was a dream, so of course it would be. He sat in front of it and gave it a trial run, making sure that his abilities could correctly imitate its sound, when he was satisfied with it, he asked them to come closer.

"I'm not much of a reader, but I love music." Wooyoung explained. "My mom loves reading and she often comes here to do so, because she prefers paper versions than holograms. She started taking me here when I was a child in hopes I'd pick up the habit too. Instead, I ended up falling in love with the piano." He chuckled.

"You know how to play it?" Mingi asked, surprised. Wooyoung nodded.

"Yeah, although I'm self-taught, so I'm probably not that good." He chuckled. "I would still like to play something for you, before I have to move on to meet the others. So... Would you listen to me play?"

"Of course," Jongho smiled, moving to turn a sofa around so that Mingi and him could sit while they listened to Wooyoung.

Once they were settled, Wooyoung began playing. He didn't actually have a name or lyrics to the song. It was simply a song that his mother would hum to him when he was a child and couldn't fall asleep. He knew the notes to it by heart. It was a slow and calm song; the kind that would comfort anyone in their worst moments. Wooyoung had never shared that song with anyone, but he liked that they were the first to listen to it.

The song eventually came to an end after a few minutes, and Wooyoung stopped playing, resting his hands on the keys. He looked at Jongho and Mingi. Jongho had a gentle smile on his face, like he had read all of Wooyoung's emotions through his playing. Mingi looked like he was about to cry a little, like he had seen all of Wooyoung's past through that song. Wooyoung felt a little bad and immediately stood up to hug Mingi.

"Don't cry, it's not even a sad song!" Wooyoung chuckled, mushing Mingi's face between his hands and unconsciously pecking his lips.

"Ah-" Jongho let out, surprised.

Wooyoung's eyes opened wide open and so did Mingi's. That had not been on purpose, certainly, and Wooyoung couldn't even begin to explain why he had done it to begin with. His hands fell to both his sides and he took a step back. Mingi lowered his head, cheeks turning pink as he realized what had just happened.

"I think I'm gonna go now, I'm sorry." Wooyoung quickly excused himself and ran away.

Wooyoung appeared in Yeosang's dream and crouched on the floor, holding his head between his hands. He couldn't believe he had just done that to poor, sweet Mingi, who genuinely didn't need to feel even more confused about his feelings than he already did. Wooyoung felt so guilty. He really hadn't meant to kiss Mingi without his permission, let alone in front of Jongho. What a way to introduce himself.

Still, he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self pity. He still had three more people to meet and probably not a lot of time left. To be fair, he wasn't entirely sure how fast time went when he was inside dreams, as dreams tended to be kind of slow paced and detached from reality. In summary, he needed to hurry up. Finding Yeosang wasn't too hard, as he was dreaming once again about being home with his mother.

He couldn't quite tell if the memory of Yeosang's mother counted as a nightmare or a dream to him. The memory itself didn't seem to be positive, but whenever he met Yeosang there, he didn't seem agitated. He seemed very nostalgic. Wooyoung found him once again in the kitchen, sitting in front of his crying mother and trying to console her. It broke his heart in pieces any time he had to see Yeosang like that.

"Yeosang..." He called, trying to break the dream softly.

Yeosang raised his head to look at Wooyoung and, just like that, his mother banished in his arms. Wooyoung could see he was crying. He walked towards Yeosang and knelt in front of him, pulling him into a tight hug. He thought that maybe Yeosang would have appreciated his song a little more had Wooyoung played it for him, but he also didn't think Yeosang would focus much on it once he brought in Seonghwa.

"Are you alright?" Wooyoung asked once Yeosang had calmed down a little. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Yeosang sniffled. "I'm fine though, thank you."

"Okay..." Wooyoung took a deep breath and gave Yeosang some space. "I really don't want to do this right now, but there's something kind of... urgent, I need to discuss with you."

"Uh, sure," Yeosang quickly wiped the tears away and nodded. "What is it?"

"Well, before that..." Wooyoung sighed. "I have to bring Seonghwa into this dream." Yeosang immediately groaned.

"Do you absolutely have to do that?" Yeosang asked, clearly displeased.

"I thought you two were getting along better?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Well, I'm certainly trying but-"

"I think what I'll tell you today might help you get closer to him," Wooyoung insisted. It could also pretty much have the opposite effect, but he hoped it wouldn't

"Fine..."

Wooyoung's smile widened and he closed his eyes, focusing on pulling Seonghwa into the dream. It was so much easier to do it this time, as it almost seemed like Seonghwa was waiting for him to do it. As soon as he felt the dreams merge, he opened his eyes, and sure enough, Seonghwa was standing in front of them, looking absolutely star struck.

"You-" Seonghwa didn't even notice Yeosang was there until he approached Wooyoung and Yeosang stood up right in front of him. "Oh... You." He huffed.

"This might be my worst idea so far..." Wooyoung mumbled, standing up. He grabbed Seonghwa's hand and claimed his attention, smiling at him. "I'm glad to see you're doing well."

"It's all thanks to you, you found me and saved me," Seonghwa squeezed Wooyoung's hand, looking at him with such intensity that Wooyoung couldn't help but feel coy.

"It was nothing-"

"We helped too, actually." Yeosang was keen to remind him. He eyed the way Seonghwa and Wooyoung were holding hands and seethed, not liking it one bit.

"Sure." Seonghwa decided to humor him.

He was finally meeting Wooyoung again, and he just wanted to talk to him and understand why Wooyoung had saved a stranger like him. He couldn't understand why Yeosang had to be there to ruin everything, like he seemed so keen on doing all the time. Sure, he had apologized before for being rude, but Seonghwa still didn't trust him. And it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

"Look, you two," Wooyoung sighed. "I'm gonna need you to stop fighting for a minute, there's something important I must share with the both of you."

Yeosang and Seonghwa stared each other down for a couple more seconds before giving in to Wooyoung's petition. Honestly, Wooyoung just couldn't believe the people in his visions were the same when they were acting like that at that moment, but he would have to work with it. He forced them both to sit down at the opposite ends of a big table that Seonghwa's dream had carried with it, just in case they tried to jump at each other's throats.

"So, hopefully, what I'm about to tell you will help deal with whatever you two have going on," Wooyoung began. "Although I suppose there's a chance it'll just make everything worse..." He muttered, shaking his head. "So, in very simple words, I had a dream that eight of us would help an amazing cause and then end up dating, all of us."

He went straight to the point, what else could he do? Yeosang and Seonghwa looked like they were a little thick, and if he wanted to get through them, he would have to be as direct as possible. He just hoped they wouldn't start fighting again, because he didn't want to deal with it.

"By eight of us you mean...?" Yeosang asked, a little confused.

"Ah, right..." Wooyoung sighed. "Hongjoong, Yunho, Jongho, Mingi, San, you two... and me."

Yeosang and Seonghwa stared at him in completely silence for a few seconds, as they processed the information, before their expressions turned into those of disbelief. Yeosang looked at Seonghwa first, before standing up and throwing the chair to the floor. Wooyoung sighed loudly, knowing this would only bring him problems.

"Date him? Never." Yeosang stated firmly.

"What do you even have against me, huh?" Seonghwa asked, standing up as well. "I thought you recognized you were being a jerk."

"I was a jerk back at the caves, but I still don't trust you." Yeosang pointed at him, huffing.

"Can we please not do this?" Wooyoung pleaded, although his voice was low, since he didn't want to get involved.

"I have done nothing to gain your mistrust!" Seonghwa yelled, walking towards Yeosang. "Even Wooyoung said I'm part of this, so why do you hate me so much?"

"I didn't say I hate you!"

"You sure act like it!"

"Shut up both of you!" Wooyoung yelled. Around them, the dream shook and dimmed down, threatening to disappear, before it turned back to normal again. Yeosang and Seonghwa were both staring at him in shock. "This is so stupid, you don't even know each other!" He was exasperated, tired from using his abilities so much.

"That's what I'm saying," Seonghwa cleared his throat, keeping his voice down. "I didn't do anything to you, so why do you hate me?"

"And I said I don't hate you," Yeosang looked away, embarrassed by Wooyoung's scolding. "I just don't like you..."

"But why?" Seonghwa leaned down a little, looking for Yeosang's eyes. He felt genuinely curious about the treatment he had received so far.

"There's no reason," Yeosang's voice got lower, as he tried to turn away from Seonghwa.

"Then are you just childish like that?" Seonghwa scoffed, grabbing Yeosang by the chin and forcing Yeosang to look at him.

Wooyoung was staring wide-eyed at the scene. He didn't know what exactly it was, but there seemed to be a certain tension between Yeosang and Seonghwa that he hadn't perceived in his visions before. It was weird -and kind of embarrassing- to witness. However, he was also nervous that they could end up attacking each other and damaging their relationship even more, so he didn't want to leave.

"I'm not-" Yeosang bit his tongue. "Okay fine, you want to know? It's precisely because of this!" Yeosang swatted Seonghwa's hand away.

"What?" Seonghwa frowned.

"You just- Came into the ship like nothing! You were accepted immediately by everyone, yet I still receive bad looks even though I've been helping the Captain the most out of crew!" Yeosang yelled, pushing Seonghwa. "It feels so unfair. You were already living a comfortable life, why did you have to come to steal mine?"

"I stole nothing from you." Seonghwa tilted his head, grabbing Yeosang's arms so he couldn't continue pushing him around. "You literally got into the ship to steal, how can you expect everyone to just fall in love with you, huh?" Yeosang shook his arms, but Seonghwa didn't let go. "This is not a fucking competition, Yeosang. And what do you even think you know about me, huh? A comfortable life? Don't make me laugh."

"Let me go..." Yeosang muttered. He felt embarrassed about being reminded of the reason he had gone into The Crescent to begin with. He regretted making that decisions a lot, and he didn't want Seonghwa to remind him of it.

"No, until you apologize to me and stop being a prick." Seonghwa also lowered his voice, noticing Yeosang was calming down.

"I think this is enough, both of you." Wooyoung intervened, walking towards them.

He gently pried Seonghwa's hands away from Yeosang's arms and made the shorter one turn towards him. He grabbed Yeosang's hands and rubbed them comfortingly. Yeosang looked at Wooyoung for a few seconds before looking away. His eyes were red, and he looked like he was trying to hold back tears.

"It must have been very lonely, before getting to the ship, right?" Wooyoung asked, still rubbing Yeosang's hands. At that moment he looked younger, like a child in a lot of pain. Wooyoung could feel the way Seonghwa was staring at both of them as Yeosang nodded. "I don't think Yeosang likes to be reminded about his ill first attempt of getting into the ship. He's changed now."

Yeosang sniffled, looking away from both of them as a tear rolled down his cheek. It was so embarrassing that they were looking at him cry at that moment, since he wasn't someone to showcase emotions like that. But what Wooyoung was saying was true. He had felt so lonely with his dream of getting out of Tebos, that when Hongjoong had accepted him as part of the crew, he had promised himself he wouldn't let his new family go.

Wooyoung let go of Yeosang’s hands and turned away. Seonghwa looked a little bewildered at Yeosang's tears, but he didn't step away when Wooyoung grabbed his hands in turn. He was a little unwilling to hear what Wooyoung had to say about him. He didn't want to be exposed in front of Yeosang, who had been so unkind to him so far, even though Seonghwa had deserved nothing of it. Ironically, they had already told each other about their pasts, so why couldn't they put it behind them?

"It must have been hard for you too, feeling alone when you're surrounded by people," Wooyoung smiled a little. "But you know, no one is going to judge you here, Seonghwa. You don't have to keep your defenses up."

Seonghwa knew Wooyoung was right, in a way, because no one had judged him when he had confessed about his situation. It still felt hard though, to open up. Especially when Yeosang tried to attack him at every chance he got. He couldn't understand why Yeosang seemed to be so angry at him, but he wanted to understand and to fix it, because he didn't want the two of them to continue living like that.

Wooyoung let go one of Seonghwa's hands and reached for Yeosang's hand. He knew that the problem between the two of them was nothing more than a misunderstanding. Neither was very good at speaking their feelings out, and he thought that maybe if they fixed that problem right there, they would stop fighting. And maybe get a little bit closer.

"Yeosang, why did you get angry with Seonghwa when he first boarded the ship?" Wooyoung asked, trying to prompt a conversation between them.

"I was jealous," Yeosang sniffled. "Almost everyone seemed to immediately like him although he just joined the crew. And I like Mingi, but Mingi was giving him a lot of attention..." His voice lowered as he spoke the last few words, feeling embarrassed at how childish he had acted.

"It was probably pity, you know. From some of them, at least, given my situation." Seonghwa shrugged. "Look, it's not like I'm going to replace you, okay? I don't know if you noticed it, but solving the map to the Treasure is a pretty big deal." Seonghwa reached up to pat Yeosang's head, messing with his hair a little. "I think that even if you wanted to leave, they wouldn't let you go. You've become quite indispensable."

Yeosang blushed harder, a mix of embarrassment and pride at being recognized like that by someone as refined as Seonghwa. It felt good to know that he was recognized, because he had worked hard for that recognition. Of course, he wanted to help Hongjoong more than nothing, because he owed him so much for allowing him to leave Tebos, but he had also wanted the crew to see him as something different. To see him like something more than just a petty criminal.

"Also I really don't think Mingi is part of the problem," Seonghwa chuckled. "You don't seem very jealous when you see him with Jongho, unless you like Jongho too?"

"No comment," Yeosang muttered, because he wasn't quite certain what was true.

"I see we're already getting along better, good." Wooyoung squeezed their hands before letting them go. "I have to go now, visit one last dream. Promise me that you will try to not kill each other anymore?"

"Promise." Seonghwa nodded.

"I give you no guarantees, but I'll try." Yeosang sniffled again, rubbing his eyes with a little roughness.

"Good enough, just stay alive until the day you meet me at the very least!" Wooyoung yelled, and then disappeared.

The white room felt familiar. It was quite different from the first time he had visited San's dream, but it shared a similar vibe to it that was hard to ignore. The room was like a long, white hallway. The walls well lined up with rows upon rows of bunk beds, made of gray metal and covered with white sheets and pillows. Wooyoung felt dizzy just from trying to walk down the room.

San was sitting on the lower half of one of the bunk beds. In contrast with the room, he was wearing a coal black uniform, complete with pants, a long-sleeved shirt and military boots. Wooyoung knew, from his visions about San, what it was like to live there, and he could not believe that anyone could be brought up in those conditions. Yet San was there, sitting on the bed in silence, like he was reflecting on something.

Wooyoung walked towards him and sat next to him on the bed. San didn't flinch, almost like he had been expecting Wooyoung, and Wooyoung thought that maybe his training had taught him to differentiate dreams from reality, in case they needed to protect themselves from other Somnum. Wooyoung had only learned recently that he could harm people through dreams, but he hoped he would never have to come to that.

"Were you expecting me?" Wooyoung asked.

"Not you, specifically." San replied, crudely.

He knew that meant San was expecting another Somnum to come and try to kill him. Wooyoung wondered if San had had any peaceful dreams at all, since making his decision of not killing Hongjoong. It had been scary to meet him at first, but now Wooyoung couldn't help but trust San with his whole self. He knew San wouldn't betray them, it was far too late for that.

"I told the others what I told you last time, that we're meant to be together." Wooyoung explained, feeling a little shy as he remembered San's reaction to the news. He hadn't understood why back then, but now it made perfect sense.

"I told you that's not possible." San's voice wavered just slightly, and had there been any other noises in the dream, Wooyoung wouldn't have noticed it.

"It is possible," Wooyoung insisted, placing a hand cautiously on San's forearm. "I know who you are San."

"Did you see it in your visions?" San closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. "Then you know what kind of monster I am. I can't even call myself human-"

"Neither can I." Wooyoung interrupted him, squeezing his arm. "You did some horrible things, but it was not you San, and you know that."

"And how do you know that?" San's voice shook with a mix of anger, and pain. Pain like he had never experienced before, because he wanted more than nothing to believe Wooyoung's words, but he knew they were a lie. "You can't decide which are my sins."

"I've seen you fighting against it, I've seen you grow to understand there's more than what you were taught." Wooyoung explained. "Sure, you've done some horrible things before, but you've also chosen the side you're on, already."

"But that doesn't matter, I can't act upon feelings." San shook his head. "It doesn't matter how I feel about it, because I still went and fulfilled all those missions."

"You did it to survive, no one can hold that against you." Wooyoung squeezed San's arms tighter, trying so hard to get his point across.

"Not when my life is worth less than those I took." San pulled his arm away, standing up.

"You life is worth just as much as everyone else's." Wooyoung remained sat, not wanting to provoke San further, but he was starting to feel desperate.

"I am a product, Wooyoung. I am replaceable," San had his back turned to him, trying to hide the emotions flashing across his face. "I don't even have a proper identity, Lee San is one of the many I've had, he's not real."

"Well guess what," Wooyoung stood up, grabbing San by the arm and making him turn around and face him. "You don't get to decide that anymore, because you have people that actually care about you now, you're part of us. If you could see what the future has prepared for us, you could see how much we- I, have come to love you."

"How can you say that when I'm supposed to kill that which you love?" San's expression has become neutral again, shielding his emotions behind ice-cold eyes, years of training coming to him at that moment as he tried to not be vulnerable.

"Because I know you won't do it, and you know it too." Wooyoung smiled, kindly, grabbing both of San's hands. "I know you've made the decision that no matter what, you won't kill Hongjoong."

"You- stupid know-it-all." San grumbled, as he brought his head down to rest on Wooyoung's shoulder.

Carefully, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around San and hugged him firmly, hopping to transmit something more than despair to him. He was scared, as well, of everything, because he knew the others' reaction to San's revelation wouldn't be so positive. Wooyoung would be lying if he said he hadn't felt betrayed at first, upon learning the truth. However, he knew San had no longer the strength to harm Hongjoong or any of the other crew members.

"I'm going to die." San muttered, exhaling. "Once they see Hongjoong is still alive, they'll send someone to look for me, and I'll be as good as dead. I won't be able to protect Hongjoong, and someone else will try to kill him. Although I would still try to die protecting him." He scoffed, feeling ridiculous for admitting his own feelings.

"Don't worry, that won't happen," Wooyoung smiled. "I'll protect you."

"No offense, but you don't look very strong." San smiled for the first time, finding it a little funny. He accepted Wooyoung's half-hearted slap on his back before sighing. "Can I tell you something without you laughing at me?"

"Of course," Wooyoung nodded, his chin accidentally hitting San's shoulder.

"I've never been scared before, not like this," San explained, almost whispering it into Wooyoung's neck. "I've been in many life or death situations, but I've always assumed that if I die, it wouldn't matter. And now... Now I'm genuinely afraid, because I've come to find a reason to stay alive, but no matter what I choose, there's no way to get a happy ending out of this."

Wooyoung held San tighter. He had already told him he would protect him, that things would work out, but he couldn't blame San for not believing him. In the end, Wooyoung could only hope that he would be there when it was time to save San, and that he would not fail him. He wanted to believe that his visions would come true as they were, because if they didn't, Wooyoung didn't think he would have the strength to go on.

Once Wooyoung was done with the visions, he tried to let his conscience wander into a peaceful sleep. He felt exhausted. Using his powers as a Somnum was far more tiring than he had ever thought it could be, and nothing could have prepared him for the energy that it took him to keep up with all the visions and the dreams. Plus, his overall sleeping schedule was a mess, as he tried to keep up with The Crescent, and he felt like he could just sleep for a hundred years at this point.

He let his mind wander, feeling himself drift into unconsciousness... A few flashes of white appeared before him, and he felt his body stiffen painfully so he could not move. He knew those were the telltale signs of a vision, and his mind awakened to prepare him for it, so that he could take all the information he needed from it.

The flashes turned into definite forms as he saw the planet where Hongjoong's ship had been briefly captured, Silmerion. He saw the face of a leader, as he encouraged the rest of the people to fight against the corruption of the Kim Empire, and he saw his name clear as water: Bang Chan. And then, Wooyoung saw himself with the Resistance, informing them of their mission before seeing himself in a ship.

The vision ended abruptly, and sent him rolling off the bed as he struggled to control his coughing. The overexertion made him nauseous, and he had to run to the restroom of the little inn he was staying at to empty his stomach before he could even begin to consider his vision. He didn't need to do much though, as it was clear as day that the meeting with The Crescent's crew was approaching.

His heart beat quickly in his chest as he imagined himself actually meeting with the others, being close to them like all those visions of the distant future he had had. Everything was starting to fall into place, and finally, Wooyoung could stop being a passive watcher. He returned to bed with the last bit of strength he had left in him after the long day, and fell deeply asleep, dreaming of the encounter that was soon to come.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopscape #8makes1teamnet #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #atz #kpop #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #crescent #bluenicorn writes

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yoonia · 4 years ago

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Carousel Drabble #005 - Transcendence

Commission: a side story for Carousel, written as requested by @theodea

➤ Character | Min Yoongi x reader

➤ Genre/word count | Arranged Marriage! AU, Angst, Established Relationship, Smut / 5,5k words

➤ Rating/Warnings | 18+ (Mature)/mention of gun use, shooting, mature scenes: involving nudity, intimacy, a bath scene with aftercare, implied finger fucking (f receiving)

➤ Author’s Note | This short piece contains a huge spoiler, as it takes place after the scene at the gala party which was portrayed on the final chapter of Carousel. Please make sure that you have read the entire series before getting into this one. (ps: this story has been asked and requested a lot when I asked for you guys to send me questions for my fic podcast. I’m sorry it took Theo to force me into writing it to finally get this one out^^)

➤ Story masterlist: Carousel | Main masterlist | Ko-fi | Commission (Link will be added once re-opened)

“Let’s raise our glass as we welcome a new beginning, a promise of a brighter future for us all. Let us cheer for the prosperity of the people and the extended family behind MYG Corporation.”

Yoongi’s voice echoed through the speakers, bouncing against the walls inside the conference hall as he spoke. With a pride smile on his face, Yoongi glanced towards where you were sitting as he raised his champagne glass for a toast with his audience. He was so focused on the moment that he barely noticed how pale your face looked, how anxious you were feeling as you waited for him to finish up his speech.

Perhaps if he had paid enough attention, he would have been ready.

Because just as everyone in the hall raised their glasses to join him, the entire room erupted into chaos. Guns were shot, screams were heard from every corner of the room. The soft murmur of the people who had come to the gala party to rejoice and celebrate his ascension was quick to turn into rough shoutings of security orders and cries for help.

Yoongi was quick to switch his drink with the gun which he had prepared in his suits, yet his attention was split between defending himself and ordering to his guards,

“Secure my family! Get my wife out of here, now!”

The last thing he saw when he glanced at your way was seeing Junhong reaching out to pull you away from the scene, before he turned back to return every single shot that was aimed at him. And then he appeared, walking calmly through the chaos as if he was Moses parting the sea as he passed through. Except that he was no prophet, nor he was a saviour.

Kim Taehyung was both the devil and the reaper that was here for his soul.

“Min Yoongi! This is for my sister!”

Yoongi was shooting back at the nearest attacker aiming his gun at his guard’s head when Taehyung raised and pointed his gun at him. It only took seconds for the next thing to happen. Just like how he had failed to see Taehyung’s move until it was too late, he had failed to notice that you have left your post.

The passing seconds felt like an eternity. One moment, he was relieved to find that you would be safe. The next moment, you were there, placing yourself in the line of fire, right between him and the exploding gun. All he saw was your face, but it sure felt like the bullet had pierced right through his heart when you fell right before his very own eyes and he had no power to stop it from happening.

“Yoongi—”

“No!”

Yoongi jolts awake, his heart beats wildly inside his chest while his whole body is covered in sweat. His head spins for a moment and he has to remind himself that it was nothing but a dream, that none of it was real.

Except that it was. That the vision he saw in his dreams actually happened.

He realises it the moment he opens his eyes, once the fog which curtains his sight clears out and he sees you there, lying unconscious on the hospital bed.

It took seconds for the bullet to pierce through your skin, then he had to endure the twelve dreadful hours of uncertainty when the doctors worked to pull it out of you. And now, a week had passed and you have yet to show any sign of waking up. A whole week where his chest feels constantly tight, where he could barely breathe at all and he is barely living.

The only thing reminding him that he is still, in fact, alive and breathing is the pain he feels on his back, the soreness on his neck and shoulders that he had gotten for falling asleep while sitting. There is a cot placed close to your bed yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie down or to be apart from you for too long. Sitting on this chair—which he had set up right beside your bed—allows him to see your face each time he opens his eyes, to hear the sound of your breathing, and to touch you whenever he needs to convince himself that you are still there.

Still present, though not awake.

His hand trembles when he reaches out, brushing your hair gently over the pillows and away from your face. The nurses had come to help wash your hair this morning, and since your skin had gained more colour, you look just as if you are sleeping instead of being under a comatose state the way you had been for the past week.

Yoongi leans forward, pressing his lips gently on your forehead before leaving his seat. He walks over to the nearest cabinet on his sore legs, grabbing the large-sized mug that he had left on top of the bedside table on his way. He lifts it to his lips, only to scowl when he finds it empty, no longer filled with the strong black coffee he had constantly drown himself in.

Opening the cabinet, he reaches for the bottle of whiskey instead, ready to dump the liquor into his mug. It is one of the advantages that he had gotten after moving you into a private room, where he could literally move a few personal belongings into the room and sneak in a few bottles of liquor to help him cope whenever the terrible memories would come back to him.

The memory of you getting shot to protect him still haunts him. Sometimes he would need a drink or two to help him sleep, since his unsettled mind would wander off to think of all the worst-case scenarios, including the thought of losing you for good.

Just as he fills up his mug to the brim and move to place the cap back on the bottle, he hears someone clearing his throat, stopping him from taking the drink.

“Nu-uh, don’t you dare drink that,” he hears Jimin’s voice says.

Yoongi turns around with a groan, finding his best friend standing in the doorway with a couple of cups of coffee in his hand.

“How about drinking this instead, huh? You’re going to need this a lot more if you don’t want her to worry about you when she wakes up.”

Yoongi looks over to the coffee that Jimin is offering to him and, as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that Jimin is right. There is no way he could stay awake if he drinks and that is something that he definitely does not need to deal with when the doctor had just told him a few hours ago that you could be awake anytime soon.

Perhaps it was one of the reasons why he was feeling calm enough to fall asleep earlier, when the news that he had gotten after the doctor’s last review on your condition had been nothing else but all the positive ones.

Your condition is stable. You are finally breathing on your own, even though they are keeping the breathing mask on, just in case. The gunshot wound is healing nicely, both the internal and external wounds left from the bullet, which means that you could gain the strength to recover soon. The latter news is the one that gives Yoongi a lot of hope of seeing you getting better.

The shot that had pierced through you had almost become a severe one.

The bullet had been lodged inside you that it took an effort to get it out, and it had only been an inch away from hitting your vital points. You had also lost a lot of blood that it was a relief that you were taken to the hospital right away before things could have gotten worse.

Taking the coffee that Jimin had bought for him, Yoongi moved to the loveseat placed near the window with Jimin joining him there.

“I met one of the doctors just now and heard some positive news,” Jimin starts to speak, trying to make a light conversation before he has to deliver the news that he is carrying with him while catching up with the updates on your condition. He also has to return and report everything to your father later, after all. “They told me that her body is showing signs of getting out of the coma.”

Yoongi nods right after taking his drink. The warm liquid helps freshen up his body that his brain begins to clear up while it makes him warmer. It is a welcome change after dealing with the cold when he tried to sleep next to you. Why they always keep these rooms so cold is something that he can never understand.

Leaning back in the loveseat, Yoongi glances towards the bed, watching how you are breathing steadily under the mask. Your body looks a lot calmer and more lax now compared to when you had first fallen into a coma, when there was a frown constantly plastered on your face as if you were either in pain or having a bad dream, and your body looked so stiff.

“That’s what they said,” Yoongi murmurs, sighing deeply. “I’ve noticed the changes, but what good does it make when she is still not waking up?”

Jimin runs his gaze over his boss, noticing the crumpled shirt he is wearing, the messy hair, the tired pair of eyes that wouldn’t look away from you even as he speaks.

“Give her time to heal. She’ll get through this, I know she will. She’s a fighter, remember?”

A hint of smile starts to grow on Yoongi’s face. “She certainly is.”

Jimin drinks his coffee, watching the way Yoongi moves slowly and lethargically as he takes his drink. “When was the last time you ate?”

Yoongi hums and shrugs. “I don’t know. This morning? My Mom was here and she brought me breakfast. I can’t remember lunch,” he confesses, rubbing his face tiredly with a trembling palm.

Shaking his head, Jimin asks him carefully, “What are you thinking not taking care of yourself? Why are you punishing yourself like this?”

Yoongi clenches his jaw tightly and closes his eyes. Both the anger and guilt he feels are palpable. Everyone can see it, but he had kept it to himself as he forces his body to continue on no matter how exhausted he feels. “Because I have failed her,” he mutters grimly. “I was supposed to be the one to protect her. I promised her, and her family, that I would. Not the other way around.”

Shaking his head, Jimin leans closer to his boss. “You did a fine job protecting her, but she’s always been so stubborn,” he says, before sighing tiredly. After being friends and then working with Yoongi for many years, Jimin knows how hard he treats himself. Yoongi hates failure, and particularly, he hates the thought of failing people who had trusted him the most. “She loves you, you know. Everyone can see that. It’s the only reason why she would do what she did that night.”

Yoongi places a hand over his chest, pressing down on the spot where it is hurting him the most. “Still doesn’t make it okay. She’s supposed to be here, awake, laughing, celebrating life. With me.”

“And she will be,” Jimin firmly says, making Yoongi turn to him when he repeats himself, and he would if only he could, just as long as Yoongi would start to believe his words.

After a long moment of silence, and right before Yoongi finishes his coffee, Jimin finally brings up the real reason why he is here, hoping that perhaps getting Yoongi’s mind away from you for a brief moment could bring some motivation to him.

“I know that this is probably a bad time. But a few of our partners who have also been dealing with the Kims’ business are trying to secure some of their stocks since the government is taking over the Kims’ archives. The government will be taking over the bonds too and secure them as a part of their investigation and see if they could link all of those bonds to the missing funds from your brother’s case.”

Yoongi grimaces. “Fuck—” he curses. And then, just as what Jimin had expected, Yoongi straightens up and focuses on the matter. “What’s going to happen?”

“I can set up a conference call so you can have an online meeting with our partners without having to leave here or ask them to come to the company. Making an appointment and gathering them together will take too much time and the government is already making their move. We can convince them to keep their investments with us and that their money isn’t going anywhere even with the ongoing investigation.”

Yoongi nods, looking pleased with the suggestion. “When can it happen?”

“As soon as possible, if you want to. The sooner we fix things with them, the better, and you can focus on your wife again.”

“Fine, arrange it and let me know when to be ready for it,” he says, suddenly looking as if he is ready to get back on to it. His eyes suddenly have a new light in them, and Jimin knows that his boss will be alright.

“On it, Boss,” Jimin agrees. “Oh, and another thing. Kim Taehyung and Kim Seokjin are both keeping a tight lip on the last cousin’s whereabouts, but our PAs is tracking down Bora Kim to see if we can make a deal with her.”

This time, Yoongi has a frown on his face when he looks over to Jimin. “And what are we offering her?”

“A few sources are saying that she has a tight bond with her stepbrother. We can offer leniency for Taehyung’s sentences,” Jimin starts, before cutting himself when Yoongi shakes his head.

“I don’t like that,” he murmurs.

Raising his hands, Jimin quickly explains his plans. “Now, I’m not saying that we’re pulling the charges for the shooting and the attack he led during the Gala. Your father-in-law is also adamant in taking the man down for shooting his daughter,” he convinces Yoongi. “The only thing we’re offering is to trade the charges for his involvement in the illegal gun dealings by letting his associates take the fall and cut a part of his sentence on that charges. He will still have the murder and attempted murder charges waiting for him in court. Both accounts are still active, aside from the attempted murder charge our lawyers are trying to pin on him for the attack he planned out on you.”

“Both?” Yoongi asks. He already knows all the charges that his lawyer is trying to charge Kim Taehyung with in the court, but the other one still surprises him. “What does the murder charge apply for?”

Jimin gives him a grim smile. “The murder of Jung Hoseok.”

It has been a long day.

True to his words, Jimin had somehow managed to set up the conference call in a short amount of time and arrange for the partners in question to attend the call just the day after. It took a few long hours of Yoongi’s day, talking and convincing his colleagues and older partners, along with all the old-time clients, before they finally agreed to not pull out their investments from Yoongi’s main company. Even better, that Yoongi had managed to convince them to place more stocks and bonds the moment they are able to pull their funds from the government once the investigation is over and invest them in MYG Corporation.

The day is slowly turning into the night when Yoongi returns to your hospital room. Taking his suits off, Yoongi grabs the coffee flask that Yuri had prepared for him earlier and a few paperworks that he needs to look over, then returns to his usual seat by your bed.

After placing a soft kiss on your forehead, greeting you softly with, “I’m back, sweetheart,” Yoongi leans back on the chair and begins to work.

The room falls quiet for nearly an hour as he sets his eyes on his work, sometimes reaching out between grabbing his coffee or giving your hand a gentle grip, before he finally tosses the paperwork away.

His exhaustion becomes apparent and the constant beep of your heart monitor, along with your steady breathing, have started to become music to his ears that he starts feeling a bit sleepy. Propping his elbow on the edge of the bed, he rests his head on his palm as he looks at you. The doctors had taken you off the oxygen mask today, so he could finally see your face without anything getting in the way. Your lips are dry, and he cannot help but smile as he imagines you waking up with a fuss for finding out about it.

As if this is just any other normal evening for the two of you, he does the old habit of talking to you the way he would before you go to bed. Yoongi softly speaks to you, telling you how his day went. He starts from the small meeting he had with Jimin and Yuri right in this room before he had to leave, before borrowing one of the hospital’s meeting rooms to do his conference call while Yuri stayed behind to watch over you. Then he tells you about the conversation he had with his partners, closing his eyes as he speaks while he imagines that you are lying on your side the way you always do, listening to him talk about work before you would sometime offer a comment or two.

Once he is done, Yoongi opens his eyes, welcomed by the sight of you sleeping soundly on the bed and the steady noises from around you instead of your soft voice responding to him.

He has a sad smile on his face when he realises that you are not truly sleeping, when he remembers that it might take some time before you could go back home with him again. He leans forward, kissing your forehead and whispers, “I miss you, baby,” before going back to rest his head on his palm and slowly dozes off to the constant noises the machines are making.

This time, he no longer sees himself and the event from the gala night in his dream. Instead, his dream takes him back to the wedding day, to the day when he read you his wedding vows and took your hand in marriage.

He sees you standing there with him at the altar, wearing your white dress. Except that this time, your face isn’t hidden underneath the veil and he could see you smiling to him. The smile is different compared to the one you showed him back at the wedding ceremony. When you looked nervous and apprehensive then, the smile you are giving him in the dream looks warm and loving, the same way you have been looking at him lately.

“You are beautiful,” he finds himself whispering while the priest murmurs steadily beside him. All of a sudden, your smile widens and you take a step forward, whispering to him back,

“Then wake up and look at me.”

The words you had just given him, along with the delicate touch he is feeling on his elbow, snap him to wake up. Dazed and confused, Yoongi blinks rapidly to clear his sight before he finally looks at you. His heart begins to pound so rapidly when he notices that you have your eyes opened, still a bit hazy and droopy, yet awake, and you are looking up straight at him.

“You—you’re awake,” he murmurs, shaking his head to make sure that he is no longer dreaming.

A smile grows on you, before you open your mouth to speak. But Yoongi stops you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Don’t say anything yet,” he says, then hastily kisses the tip of your nose before pushing himself up. “Let me get the doctor. Hang on.”

You almost laugh at the flustered way he is reacting, fumbling with the button above your head before finally walking out the door. You hear him notifying someone—probably a nurse—before he rushes back in and places both of his palms on your face.

“They’re coming, sweetheart. They’ll check on you and make sure you’re okay,” he says, before he begins shooting more questions about what you are feeling or if you are in any pain. You barely notice anything he says, however, too engrossed in the look you see in his eyes and the way he is holding you as if you could disappear any moment he lets you go.

Then, just as the sound of footsteps begin to echo from the hallway, getting closer into the room, Yoongi stops himself and kisses your forehead gently. His eyes are filled with unshed tears, but his face looks calm and relieved when he reaches down to take your hand in his, kissing every cold knuckle with his warm lips as he whispers, “I thought I had lost you.”

You still couldn’t find your voice, but the way he says it tugs something inside you that you wish you could tell him the same thing. That you would never be able to live without him, no matter what, and the thought has you breaking in tears.

“Is this okay?”

You could only respond to him with a moan the moment warm water starts dripping onto your skin. Yoongi continues to rub the wet towel along your shoulders, erasing the sweat and dirt that have covered your skin after lying down in bed for a long time.

A soft chuckle is heard from him. “I need to hear your words, sweetheart,” he says, placing a kiss at the crook of your neck but still continues to gently rub your skin clean.

“It feels good,” you finally tell him, moaning softly as you let your head fall back to enjoy the way he is taking care of you.

Two weeks have passed since the night you woke up from the coma. And you have been moved into the penthouse where you have been living in since you married Yoongi only since three days ago. Yoongi had been too impatient and had wanted to bring you back home with him that he had a whole room set up as your recovery room in the penthouse and arranged to move you the moment the doctors told him you were stable enough to have the short trip home.

Since then, Yoongi has taken the nurse duty in his own hands, which is why he had wrapped your torso with a fluffy towel to keep your bandaged wound dry and sat you down in the bathtub so he could help bathe you before he would change your bandages.

Yoongi takes his time as he lathers more soap on your skin. Sitting right behind you to make it easier for him to do his deeds, he doesn’t even care if he gets wet as he pulls you closer so he could reach a few tricky spots. Switching between the shower puff and the rinsing wet towel, Yoongi runs them gently along your exposed skin, before replacing them with his kisses once he is through.

“You do know that I can do this by myself now, don’t you?”

Yoongi ignores your protest, rubbing at the few last spots that he had missed before reaching lower. He teases you by slowing down his movement as he reaches down, rubbing the wet towel between your legs to lather warm water on your inner thighs, only to stop before he could reach your mound.

With his hand placed right on your waist, he could feel the way your body shudders to his teasing touch. The sigh that he gives when he kisses your bare shoulder shows how much he is holding back from touching you more than he should.

“I don’t care,” he finally answers, his warm breath falling on your neck when he speaks. “I just love taking care of you.”

You open your mouth to protest further, but Yoongi stops you before you could. Pressing a finger on your chin, Yoongi brings your face to him so he could kiss your lips.

“I was seconds away from losing you. At least give me this to make up for that. To know that I’m not dreaming about having you back in my arms again.”

His words tug at your heartstrings that you choose not to fight him on it. “Okay,” you whisper, silently admitting that you would have probably done the same if only the roles have been switched and you were the one who was forced to watch him dying.

“Then finish up and tuck me to bed, husband.”

You hear Yoongi chuckling softly. And without warning, he moves his hand back between your legs, making sure not to miss any other spot as he brushes gently at your private parts. The softness of the towel and warm water falling at your mound send your body jolting upward. Then your head falls back to his shoulder when he replaces them with his fingers once he is done washing you there, as if he wants to make sure that not only did he do a good job of cleaning you up, but also to help make your whole body lax and sated with his gentle touches that you had been deprived of for weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, Yoongi has finished drying you up and you are sitting at the edge of the bed as he puts on fresh bandages around your wound.

“Too tight?” he asks, as he gently finishes sealing up the bandage and making sure that it is secured tightly around your torso.

“No, it’s perfect,” you tell him, slowly flexing your upper body a little to test it out, stopping right before he scolds you for moving and stretching too much.

The two of you had fallen into a new routine ever since you had gotten out of the hospital. Yoongi leaves you for a moment to let you dress up in one of his shirts to sleep, and comes back after he had taken his own shower. Sliding under the covers, you let him take care of you a bit more—from handing you the medicine and water to drink, to fixing up the covers to make sure you are tucked in and warm, setting up the alarms—before he finally joins you in bed.

You could feel the medicine taking affect just as he begins talking about his day. Even if Yoongi has been there with you each day to watch over you and nurse you back to health, he still has his work to focus on and a company to run. He may have handed the responsibility of holding down the fort to his father while he works from home, yet he still spends most of the day while you are resting in bed to work in his home office.

But as you continue to listen to his calming voice, sleep still refuses to come to you.

You had been sleeping a lot during the first week of coming out of your coma. It wasn’t easy for both you and Yoongi during that period of time, since you could barely stay up to talk to him as much as you wanted to and he would constantly worry about it each time you closed your eyes, afraid that you wouldn’t wake up again. And now, it seems like your mind and body is on overdrive, wanting to stay awake and moving, even if you are still not allowed to do any rough activities or any sudden movement that might stress out your wounds.

“Have you thought about it?” Yoongi suddenly asks you just as he is done talking about work.

It takes you a minute before it finally dawns you to realise what he is talking about. “About the winery?”

For the past week alone, Yoongi has been trying to convince you to consider getting back on track with your winery business. Though he was right, that you had been putting it on hold for too long already, there is still a part of you which isn’t completely sure if it would be the right time for you to start it over.

As if Yoongi understands fully about your apprehension on the matter, he answers your doubt so easily, proving that he had thought of everything and made a few proper plans on your behalf. “Yes, the winery. Your winery business,” he says with a smile. “I already have everything prepared. The cottage is already under construction and it will be ready for you to move in to just a few months from now—might be earlier, from the looks of it. I have all the paperworks you may need to get the business up and running. They are being handled by the lawyers as we speak. You can also have anyone from the staff to assist you if you need more help.”

“You really have thought of everything,” you muse, wiggling your brows. “You just want to get rid of me so you could go back to work, don’t you?”

Yoongi laughs. “You’re absolutely right about that,” he says, jokingly, before he leans down to kiss your forehead. “But most importantly, I just want you to have a safe place to focus on your recovery, somewhere far away from all this tension and the stress. The winery would be the best place for you to recover completely.”

You bite your lips just as he said it. Yoongi may not have said them out loud, but you understand the underlying intention behind his wishes to send you away. That you are not truly out of the woods yet. Not from the gunshot wound, but from the threat hiding in the shadows. You are not completely safe yet when the investigation is still ongoing and not all the perpetrators had been caught.

And with your mother being involved in all of this, as her name and signature have constantly been mentioned and kept on appearing in every paperwork supporting the Kims’ business, it would put you back in the spotlight the moment the entire world knows that you have survived the shooting.

“So you won’t be coming with me?”

Yoongi gives you a small smile. “I’ll be there every weekend. You’d probably kick my ass out if I’m there when you’re working. You always hate it if I interfere with your job, anyway.”

“Damn right, I do,” you lightly laugh, though your chest feels tight for the thought of not being with him for a while.

“If you say yes, I’ll start preparing for everything this week so I can arrange to transfer you there as soon as the doctors clear you out for traveling,” he says, stopping when he looks at you just as you feel your eyes burning with tears. Yoongi reaches out, brushing your cheek gently when he asks, “I’m not saying that you are going to move out there tomorrow, sweetheart. We still need to wait until you are strong enough to make the trip. We also promised for a new beginning, remember?”

There is a clump building in your throat the moment you remember making said promise, the day you laid down on the small bed back at the winery with him by your side, when you said you were going to start over with him once all of this drama is over. “I do. I remember. I just want to be by your side through all of this.”

“You’ve done more than enough. It’s my time to finish up what is needed to be done to make sure the problems will stay away from us and that we are completely out of danger,” he says, his gaze looks firm as it holds a promise. “And I will be there with you, every step of the way.”

“There are so many things to plan out—all the things to think about,” you murmur, not sure why you just want to put it on hold a bit longer.

“We’ll do it slowly while you are still recovering. Take it a step at a time. As long as you are willing to stay with me and—”

“I do. I want to be with you,” you quickly tell him, feeling the need to let him know that you are not going anywhere.

His gaze softens with relief after hearing your words. “And I want to be with you. Always. Even death can never tear us apart,” he promises, before he leans forward, brushing his lips against yours to seal the deal and mark his vow.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

153 notes · View notes

kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

Text

His Prophet

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: God AU, romance, fantasy, protective Taehyung, arranged marriage vibes (kinda), kingdoms and castles, and medieval aspects dotted around, royal au sorta

Words: 9.8k

Warning(s):(Y/n is pushed around in one scene, is that a warning?)

a/n: go ahead and blame the GDA for this (and I was listening to creepypastas during work and one particular story’s ending twist inspired me in a non-spooky way). Also, I’d like to say it took 20 minutes for me to find a photo that wasn’t rejected by my computer to make this godforsaken banner.

summary: The royal Sun God of Navern is a complete recluse; the polar opposite of what one would immediately assume of the God of the Sun should be. Being the only God in his kingdom, he stayed within his castle walls- or at least it is assumed. Staff and servants of the palace only see him occasionally in the halls or peering out into the gardens. It was the dreams of one certain townswoman who worked in a small library that he happens to run into one night that changes everything.

The Kingdom as Navern was a prosperous kingdom, even if smaller in comparison to other neighboring kingdoms. Of it’s few larger cities and small towns, the capital city and home of the Navern Palace was named Vicious. The city was home to all sorts- merchants, blacksmiths, traveling priests and devoted followers of the kingdoms single God; any occupation or profession one would think of, it would probably be found in Vicious.

However, what one thing masses defined as unordinary was a woman who could read and write and who was just as intelligent as a man living in a run-down, two-story library.

The bottom floor of the brick build and metal-framed building was filled with bookshelves upon bookshelves of books of all kinds. Fantasy and children books, adult novels of fiction and non, and documentation of the kingdom’s history. Encyclopedias and thick bricks books of words and information that- if it had the right reader- could suck them in with knowledge.

The top story was closed off from the public. Small living space was where the family of the library lived when the store was closed. A small living room with only two rooms and the kitchen was right off the far wall of the living room, not even a wall to separate the two. It was small, but cozy for the small family of three.

In the past, this small library with two small step stools for high shelves and one small ladder used to belong to an old man and his wife. They had a small child, a little girl when the couple was early into their middle-aged years. As that little girl grew up, her father taught her to read and write and would often raise her as if she were a son. She still wore the suffocating dresses and low heeled shoes of a child as a requirement of her mother. Her father had her help him with broken shelves and squeaky doors, learning a good chunk of labor in her early years.

On the other hand, her mother still pampered her and grew her into a proper young lady. Manners and ideals of a woman and one-day future housewife. Cooking, cleaning, chores, shopping, sewing and all the factors that lead to proper womanhood. Oddly enough, that little girl didn’t mind all the things she was taught.

All her talents in both ladylike behavior and otherwise was an opportunity to learn. And if the girl had anything it was craving for knowledge. She greatly enjoyed reading on the downtime she had and would often recommend books to the boys in her grade school- something she would regret as it lead to years of ridicule. She was simply too smart for a girl.

At the age of 13, this little girl lost her mother to sickness. Catching a cold was all it was, but she just got worse and worse and her father couldn’t keep up with doctor bills. Eventually, the sickness claimed the girl’s mother and it was just her father and her in the apartment and the library. 5 years later, when the girl is 18, she loses her father next.

He had been called to help damper out a raging fire in the Nothern part of the city. Some criminals had started a fire in the small prison to try and mask his escape.

The older man never came back to the library, only a messager did to tell the girl that her father had been killed pursuing the escapee. Leaving the 18-year-old young lady, leaving you, to inherit the library fully.

Things from then got painfully stressful for the better part of half a year. Managing the library and your personal life. Trying to get accustomed to running everything by yourself and not letting the snarky remarks of young men behind your back as you hammered loose bricks back into the outside bricks. Working day in and day out and also having to run errands for families in need for extra money kept you busy and balancing your schedule wore you out.

There were many times you thought about giving up the library, no matter how much you loved it. You came close so many times to that decision, but the memories of you and your family always made you rethink and keep the building in your possession. Many men had come along and tried to buy it from you to wreck it down and rebuild something else where it stood- you always declined.

Years went by and as time passed, things slid into a certain pace of ease and you were finally able to live comfortably. You were 24 years old now. Still managing your library and keeping your home in shape, you also stood as an independent woman. No man or person of romantic interest simply because you had no interest or time for a partner at the moment. Besides, the men in the city, or at least your part of it, had no interest in a woman who threatened to be smarter than him. Bruised egos are a lethal attack to men it seemed.

However, there were a handful of women who respected you a great deal with your knowledge and ability to disregard the judgemental stares and comments from others. It wasn’t just men who sneered, but the women who were a bit too rich in both money and unrealism gave you stink eyes. Sometimes the rich women were even more threatened than the men were even when they couldn’t count anything other than bills.

You were busy restacking the shelves with books that had been returned that morning from mostly children and a few older generations. Your dress wrapped around your torso as you wore your corset, looser than a lady should, and the skirt hitting your ankles. You dusted your hands off with each finished task on the white apron tied around your waist. Small, brown, worn-out flats covering your feet. Working all day with heels just would not suffice. Your hair wrapped around your head in tied upbraids. Uncomfortable, but out of the way.

You were more tired than the day before from the dream you had last night. The dream wasn’t frightful per se, but something about it made you jolt awake. Each time you went back to sleep, the same dream came back and the same dream woke you up. It was hours before dawn when you decided to forget any further sleep and just get up. An early start to the day wouldn’t be so bad. It gave you time to take books off shelves and clean them only to restock them- a task tedious but long overdue.

The dream was one set in your city, the city of Vicious. In fact, in each dream you were outside, just walking around running some sort of errand for the local older woman or fetching medicine for the bedridden old gentleman for a small bit of money. And in each new errand and each new dream, you kept seeing the same people and the same faces you had grown up knowing. However, it’s one person’s stature that always caught you off guard.

The wore a brown, long robe with the hood always flipped up. Masking their face and hiding their body, just walking down the path like every other citizen of Vicious. You would always unconsciously think of them as a traveling beggar from some other town in Navern. It was when the hooded figure moved to seemingly lift their head to look towards you when you always jolted awake. Perhaps it was your brain trying to tell you that you woke up because whatever person that hooded figure was, wasn’t someone you had seen before. Without a proper face to register, you just woke up to avoid it altogether.

You never got a fearful or unsettling feeling in your dreams or afterward, so you didn’t think too much of it. However, it wasn’t just that night you had that dream. It was present the night after and further on. Night after night it was all sorts of different dreams with different errands and different people, but that one cloaked beggar always was present. Still not giving you a feeling of discomfort, but the reoccurrence of this dream made you halfway convince yourself to spend some saved up money on a doctor’s trip.

It’s that night when you contemplate medical aid that you had a dream set in a doctor’s den. Sat in his dinky little office, but instead of a face, the doctor had a long mask on. In fact, the whole doctor wasn’t even human, but a giant, humanoid raven with black feathers and dressed in a tailcoat of the most wealthy bank owner. Waking from that dream with a shiver and a line of sweat down your spine, you might actually consider that one a nightmare.

You decided at nearly midnight to go out and clear your head with a walk. It was a late and dangerous time for a woman to be out, but the idea of sleep made you shiver. Maybe some time to clear your head in the quiet nighttime would help ease you.

Changing from one of your father’s old shirts that you wore to bed every night into your least flattering skirt and small poet’s blouse, you threw a shawl over your shoulders. Not even bothering to tie your hair back. It wouldn’t be a long stroll, just one to breathe in the clean air and take in the silence. When you looked out your window, you smiled as you saw the moon shining brightly overhead- even though it was only halfway through the new moon cycle. It would light your path along with the small patterns set outside homes for those who had late-night workers as part of their family.

Inside Navern Palace dwelled the Sun God of Navern, Luos. Luos was a God who was revered and respected, even as a shut-in God. He ruled and took care of his kingdom from the comfort of his palace walls. Any word he needed to hear of, he’d turn to his Water Mirror, a vase with a wide mouth and filled with water. A few taps of Luos’s fingertips against the water, causing ripples and he could see to the furthest reach of his precious kingdom.

He did love him home. Navern was were he grew up as a human with a different, human name when the kingdom was first birthed. His devoting to his home was what caught another God’s eye- the supreme God of all that was known. When he died as a young man due to his efforts in fighting in a long war, the Ruler God revived him as something far greater than human and giving him the new name of Luos and the insignia of a butterfly. Thought, he never forgot his original name- and he refused to abandon it altogether. It would be like throwing the long memories of his deceased parents away and he absolutely would not do that. His original name stayed solely with him as he lived as Luos.

Luos was not always a shut-in, in fact, he used to be rather outgoing and always spoke and hopped around from town to town among his kingdom. But, many years ago, something changed and all of a sudden he closed his doors for good. He wouldn’t set foot outside palace walls and on some days his palace servants couldn’t even get him to go out into the gardens full of sunflowers he so much loved.

He’d been this way for nearly 20 years now. Only the oldest in Vicious have a vague memory of their royal God walking the streets.

It was never announced as to why Luos locked himself away into his own prison. There had been no wars, no famine. Crime had been on the lower side of the scale and he had no negative reputation with his people that was noted. However, he still made the ironclad decision and his people could do nothing to change his mind.

However, it was nearly two weeks ago that he started to question his seclusion. He had grown quite accustomed to his reclusive past couple of decades, but for the past couple weeks, he’s had this feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He’d stand at one of his many grand windows just staring over the castle’s main gates to the rooftops of town across the thin, brick bridge that connected the castle to town over the clear watered mote surrounding his palace.

It had been a long time since he had the urge to go out and see his capital again, however recently it had been the hardest urge to suppress in his day to day, reclusive life. The Sun God himself had changed vastly from when he had first started his Godly duties. The thin, childlike innocent he used to hold in his face had matured out into a sculpted jaw and eyes that had seen many things and consumed more knowledge than humans could take in.

“Perhaps I should select a prophet,” was his constant reoccurring thought recently. The thought poured into his head one night when sleep had been actively avoiding him. He had heard in an old wise tale that when one cannot sleep, it is because someone else is dreaming of them. He questioned the truth behind that because he had not set foot outside in so long, no one had the reason to dream of him at all. He was even more confused as to why he suddenly had the compelling idea to suddenly rope in someone to be a chosen prophet.

Even when he thought about the suggestion, he could never think of a face or name that would fit the title. He felt a nagging in his chest and with each possible candidate he could choose to help spread his word and ideals, the nagging would worsen. It was as if his subconsciousness was rejecting each person he knew within the castle- almost pressuring him to go outside the palace. Perhaps he truly should. Perhaps he should go and venture out into his capital and try to see if a single one person could cure this nagging that had begun to irritate him.

So, late at night when the castle was quiet, he dressed in slacks, shirt, and cloak before he left. Walking out of his room and throw the abandoned halls to the back gates of the palace, rounding around the entire castle to avoid as many guards as possible. If he were seen leaving, the guards would most definitely make a fuss about it and the gossip would spread from Navern’s farthest board lined town before dawn. As far as anyone else was concerned, he still hadn’t stepped foot outside the palace perimeter.

The moment his feet hit the loose dirt from across the mote’s bridge, he took a sharp breath. It was like his soul had missed this feeling of his cities roads. He felt at home already, even after all this time. He flipped up his hood, hiding his pitch-black hair and smiled as he stepped onward once more, a joyous hop in his step. The moon named Selene, guiding his way forward. He looked up at her bright surface and smiled a silent thanks for invisible guidance. The moon was always motherly towards him.

Selene says she doesn’t play favorites, but Luos was definitely a favorite- even if she denies it.

Your stroll outside was a quick as you wished it to be. You walked to the wishing well of stone of ice-cold water in the center of Vicious as you sat on the thick stone of it. The sounds of the water calmed you and the area chilled your skin even beneath your shawl enough to raise your skin in gooseflesh. The wind blew slightly in small wisps, making you unattractively breathe in strands of your hair.

Fed up with it, you took the loose tied around your wrist you carried with you everywhere and began to sloppily tie your hair back at the low of your neck. Not very tight, but enough to keep it from entering your mouth and causing you to gag or choke again.

It was very bright out for it being the middle of the night. Part of you regretting now bring a book out with you. You could easily read a chapter or two with the moon’s brightness this night. You half contemplated going back home only to come back to the fountain and do just that when a small gasp sounded behind you.

Jumping to your feet and whipping around, you were met with a cloaked figure with their hood flipped up. You gasped lightly yourself. It was just like your dreams and now you half expected yourself to bolt awake at home in bed. You clenched your eyes shut, expected your mattress to be pushed against your back any moment, but nothing happened. You still breathed the fresh air, still heard the fountain’s water, and still felt the chilly air of the nighttime.

You squinted your eyes open just a sliver, still seeing that cloaked figure across the fountain. You squeezed your eyes closed against and reached under your shawl to your shoulder and pinched your skin. The top trick in the books, if you want to wake up from a dream, pinch yourself.

“Why are you hurting yourself?” You gasped as your eyes shot open. You had been so preoccupied with yourself that you didn’t even hear this cloaked stranger walk over to stand in front of you. Their deep voice had a silky tone to it and it was most definitely a male’s voice. He stood so close to you, nearly toe to toe and yet you still could not see him under his hood. Just like the dreams, his cloaked figure had no fae you could see. However, you’d never heard them speak before, so perhaps this was some sort of lucid dream? “Miss?” He spoke again.

“I, um, I’m trying to wake up,” you dumbly replied. A reply which made his shoulders shift- the only physical thing you could see as a response to your words. You then heard a small, low chuckle from beneath his hood.

“Are you trying to say that you’re sleepwalking?”

“Perhaps, I’ve been known to do remarkable things before,” you unconsciously spoke back in a teasing manner. You then remembered that to most, and almost all, you weren’t supposed to speak to men so highly. You were a woman of independence and held your head high despite your differences of other women, but the lessons of manners from your mother flooded back into your head. You quickly took a step backward, leaning back and away from the stranger and covered your mouth with your fingertips. “I apologize for my tone!”

The stranger quickly lifted his hand to his chest, palm towards you. His cloak opened to show what seemed like black pants and a white shirt beneath it. Boots tucked into his trousers. You partial hoped he wouldn’t raise his hand higher and demand more respect like many, entitled men would without hesitation.

“There is no need to apologize!” He quickly dismissed. He lowered his hand back down, his cloak closing back again at his front. His pushed forward chest straightened back down as he saw you relaxed slowly but surely. “Why are you running about the city so late at night, Miss?”

You bit back the urge to ask him the same thing in return but knew better than to avoid your basic ladylike manners again. You cleared your voice, straightening back up.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping for a while now. I thought that perhaps the night air would help clear my mind.” You didn’t hear the small gasp he took in.

“Trouble… sleeping?” You nodded towards him, brow raised at his curious tone. He cleared his throat. “When did your trouble begin? Perhaps if you talk about it, it would help.” You contemplated his offer. A listening ear of a stranger who offered willingly was far easier and cheaper than visiting a local doctor. You just looked up at him, head tuning in curiosity.

“Are you truly willing to listen to my late-night woes? Me, a stranger.”

The strange man turned around, backing up to the edge of the fountain and took a seat. He just looked up at you with his hidden face and offered you to take a seat beside him. You relented and even though you didn’t know who this man was and you didn’t recognize the voice as anyone you may have met before, you felt oddly calm. You sat next to him before speaking.

“I suppose it started at the beginning of the month’s moon cycle. When the moon was dark and unseen, that’s when it all began. So, a couple of weeks ago.” You fiddled with your fingers, looking at your lap instead of up at his hidden features. You missed the man’s chin drop as he suppressed the urge to push his palm against his mouth in shock. He just remained still and rotated his hand to silently tell you to continue, not trusting his voice. You sighed. “I normally sit and read before trying to sleep again, but the dreams just keep reappearing over and over again.”

“You can read?” He asked inquisitively. It wasn’t said in a disgusted tone, not even condescending. He was genuinely curious.

“I… can. My father taught me when I was young and it would be odd if a librarian lacked the skill to read her own books.” He could tell by the way he put his hands together in his lap and pushed his legs up to his toes and back down that he wanted to know more. “My father’s library in town was passed to me when he passed. My mother had already died so I had to learn to manage it on my own, but that was nearly 5 years ago now. I’ve put it behind me and it isn’t so bad as it seemed at the time.”

“I apologize for your losses,” the strange offered his condolences. “However, I’ve not known many women to read and write efficiently. Are you ridiculed for it?” He asked lightly as if trying to avoid any conversational landmines. He smiled lightly with a small huff and looked down at your hands.

“I am, very often honestly. Truth be told, I seem to provoke men and the wealthy women of the city because of my skills. I’ve tried teaching children, but their parents berate me. I’ve become deaf to their insults now, however.”

“You’re a respectable woman,” the strange told you. The compliment seemed so truthful it sent you into a small recoil. He chuckled as your reaction. “A strong, intelligent woman shouldn’t be deemed unordinary, but revered as a genius. You all weren’t’ just made for family expansion and chores. Or so, I believe.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. You pushed your hand over your mouth, knowing it was late and if you were to wake anyone, they’d stalk into the city center with a stick or ladle, shooing the noisemaker away. You missed the small smile the stranger hid under his hood.

“I apologize,” you forced between stifled laughs. He shook his head.

“No need, I think your laugh is beautiful.”

You calmed down as you took a breath to regained your breathing. “I’m not sure where you come from, stranger, but you are vastly different from any other man I’ve met.” He was silent for a moment.

“Believe it or not, I’ve lived in Navern for many years. I’m a bit of a recluse and don’t get out much. I work from home, in a sense.”

“Is that right?” You asked, a teasing hint of skepticism.

“I swear to Luos himself,” He said, cringing at his words. You nodded. You both continued to sit and talk for a while longer before the moon had moved drastically in the sky. The stranger was soon standing, taking your hand gently to help you to your feet. His fingers seemed to linger on your skin as he let your hand go. “It’s getting far too late for a lady to be out. I’ll walk you home,” he offered with no room for rejection.

When you both stood outside your home, the stranger looked through the dark windows. The outlines of filled shelves sketching over his vision. Looking up, he saw a window, probably to your room away from your shop. You removed the thick, cooper key from around your neck that was on a rope of leather before slotting it into the door. Turning it to click it open. You turned back to the stranger.

“Thank you for your company tonight. I really did appreciate being able to speak and be myself without being sneered.” Your voice was soft and filled with genuine happiness.

“I can guarantee that your company and conversation pleased me far more than you. It has been far too long since I spoke to someone.” His voice was soft and calm, you could hear the smile on his face. “Next time, let’s talk inside and in the daylight instead of sitting outside in the cold.”

“You would come to visit me, wouldn’t you?” You teased lightly. You were shocked when he nodded immediately. “Well, if that’s the case, could I see your face?” You gently asked, not wanting to pressure him. He was still a stranger, but you felt so calm and easy about him. You just wanted to see him just once- but perhaps he would decline your request. He had his hood up this whole time without movement to lower it.

“I don’t usually show my face outside of my home,” he started and your face started to fall, “however, I think I can make this exception.” Your fae jumped back up as you bit back a smile of victory. He lifted his hands to open his cloak and grip the sides of his hood. Pushing the fabric back, your smile fell into the face of awe.

He was gorgeous. Long, black hair that brushed passed his eyes. His eyes dark but light reflected off them in specs of the most wondrous color. His hair was curled with waves and framed his face well. His jaw is wide and sharp. His voice seemed to fit his face a far better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. He chuckled at your reaction to his face. He put his hands on either side of his neck before dropping them.

“For the first time tonight, it seems you do not have any words left,” he jested.

You just licked your dry lips and hid your face, trying not to let your cheek heat too much. “May I ask one more request?”

“I suppose,” he drawled. You picked at your fingers, nails tapping together.

“May I ask your name if I offer mine back?” You gingerly looked up at him, eyes looking up first before your head lifted in follow. You could see a small jolt of hesitation at your question. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d recognize you anywhere even without your name.” He took that as a compliment of compelling looks.

He faltered in his step as he moved to take your hand, raising it to push the back of your knuckles to his lips. His eyes closed gently as he kissed your hand, your mouth opening and your cheek flaring in the cold night breeze. He opened his eyes as you noticed that one eye had a monolid while the other was double eye lidded. He smiled widely, the purest and cutest smile you’d ever seen.

“Call me Taehyung,” he cheered lightly. He dropped your hand, as you offered your name back with a small flustered stutter. Y/n was a wonderful name and fit you perfectly. He watched you go inside and even saw your shadow trot up the back staircase to your apartment. He looked at the top window and saw a dim light of a lantern you had just lit before he smiled.

He did feel a bit guilty for not telling you the name he went by now was Luos, but Taehyung was the only name he felt he should give you. His original name was much less intimidating than the Sun God Recluse, Luos. He flipped his hood back up and made quick work of his way back to the castle. Already impatient to see you again and without him really noticing, the nagging in his chest had subsided.

It was two weeks ago when your dream started to subside. That night you spent talking with Taehyung for so long seemed to take your dreams away. You were shocked when he showed up at dusk, knowing at your library door the very next night. He claimed he couldn’t wait to see you again, so here he was. You immediately let him inside without a hassle.

You’ve been talking with Taehyung for two weeks and you greatly enjoyed everything about him. His attitude was uplifting and even when he spoke about topics that angered him, his anger was justice and the points to support his rage were solid. He was knowledgable and well versed in many things. The conversation never died with him.

You were comfortable with him, especially since he always marveled at your abilities. He watched with awe as you caught you repaired a shelf once, and nearly ate enough for four men when you cooked for him the first time. He could read well but preferred hearing you read to him, claiming to love hearing your voice.

It was no mystery how fast you were falling for Taehyung. The romance was something you didn’t think was optional for you, but Taehyung waltzed into your life at night and wasn’t a creepy serial killer. Taehyung had seriously raised your bar of men’s standards and he probably had no idea how you inside turned into mush when he showed up at your home with his giant, wide smile.

Taehyung also always only visited you when night was falling and always cloak. However, it was early in the morning once when he decided he couldn’t wait another long day to see you again. Sneaking out of the castle was harder in the morning, but possible. Still cloaked and hooded, he hid his small smile from the sun’s shadow. His smile wilted when he saw the corner of your library-home come into view.

You had just unlocked the library door and moved to put the hanging ‘open’ sign you had painted and decorated with Taehyung one night to symbolize for people to come and go as they please. He wanted to smile at the idea of you using it, but the young men around your age coming towards you made his teeth grind.

You had just hung your sign on the front window of the door on the small nail you had put on the door a few nights ago when you felt a small shove on your shoulder. Your dress today hit the ground and you nearly toppled over by stepping on the fabric. Your corset of white pushed the dress against your stomach, pushing your chest up, and your torso felt pain as you nearly bent over in the course that was tight.

You regained balance with a small huff as you adjusted your apron on your front. The two men were two fellow rude boys you had grown up with. They had yet to outgrow their childish bullying, and you doubt they were would. You figured they should just marry each other at this point. With rotten, toxic attitudes like theirs, there is no way they’d find wives.

One man, a small sprout of bone was Lix. The other was a bit broader, but no looker for sure; he was named Horan. Lix was more a verbal fighter, not having much strength when it came to fist to fist confrontation. Horan was the opposite. He was dead stupid, but his power balanced out what Lix didn’t have. It was a poetically stupid match made in some twisted heave.

Lix turned to your sign before taking it off the door and looking it over. A small frown on his face as he’s eyes squinted.

“What awful handwriting!” He crowed, even if your handwriting was a perfect script. “I knew it, women should stick to cleaning and looking after little rugrats,” he spits before he threw your sign with a flick to his right. The wooden plack spun as it descended and hit the road with a puff of dirt. You gasped lightly before you ran towards it.

Kneeling in the dirt, you picked it up, the road sticking to your fingertips and filtering under your nails in grounded, small pieces. Dirt would be pushed into your apron and you’re sure you’d have to dust it and wash it all out later. When you looked at the sign in your lap as you knelt on your knees, you recalled how happy Taehyung looked when it as down. Your eyes began to tear.

There was a small murmur of on-lookers who watched the two men push at you. You knew you had no authority to act out, even if you wanted so badly to shout at them. You’d have no ally if you did, no one stood in your corner. You were alone and the fact that everyone watching and gossiping you get pushed around didn’t move to help you, only proved your point.

You could only stamp your feet and curl your fingers around the wooden, painted ‘open’ sign as you held your tears back. Lix started marching up behind you, you could tell from the dainty footsteps he took. Horan’s was much more heavy in terms of his weight. You could feel his presence right behind you, the looming feeling of this man looking down on you. He kicked dirt at your back, debris mixing into your hair and rolling down your dresses back from the collar as you shivered at the sensation.

You felt pathetic as you just let it happen. You could feel him step closer and the shadow you saw from your side showed him reaching out towards you. You expected him to grab your hair and pull you to sit straight. You just shut your eyes in a panic to avoid anyone seeing your unshed tears.

Lix’s nasty grip never came. Instead, a near set of steps rushed from in front of you and came to halt. A shadow of someone blocking the sun from you clouded your shut eyes as you peeked them open. A pair of black boots were in front of your down casted vision. You could vague hear Lix squawking in pain before the new arriver stepped around you and shoved Lix back. You heard his ass his dirt as he whined. Horan was soon stomping to defend his attacked friend, but soon the stomping stopped.

You lifted your head, turning to your back to see who had interfered. You didn’t know of any townsfolk would who defend you. A woman who was so vastly different from others. Your mouth opened to a quivered form as your tears fell. That familiar cloak a blessing to your eyes.

“Taehyung,” you whimpered. You weren’t shocked to see him, you were just relieved to see you had someone to help you. You cried further when you realized you finally had someone in your corner. Taehyung protected you and he had flipped down his hood. His hair was even more beautiful shining off the sun. You wanted to see his eyes in this light- it was probably more breathtaking than seeing them in the candlelight of lanterns.

Horan remained still, frozen mid-charge. Taehyung glared at him and it was blood-chilling enough to freeze the unintelligent giant in his tracks and even silence the gossip of others. Some even moved to remain their work, trying to play coy as if they hadn’t witnessed the assault without assistance. Lix had picked himself off the ground, not sure where to move to, Taehyung eyes burning them into place.

“Make yourself scarce,” was all he seethed. A threat underlined in his words. Lix and Horan were quick to flee. Taehyung’s shoulders slackened as he turned to you, sitting in the dirt and holding the sign in your arms to your chest, hugging it as if it were some precious treasure. His eyebrows dipped, sad to see your tears. He moved to you, kneeling to rub his palm against your wet cheek and push his fingertips into your hair, combing out bits of dirt.

He raised his eyes over you, looking at the people still cocky enough to keep starring. He glared again. “Return to your duties and mind your business!” He yelled, everyone obeying without hesitation and soon all eyes were off you. Taehyung looked softly back at you before he gently picked you off the ground.

Walking you into your store, he took the sign and set it gently on the window sill. He locked the door once you both were inside. He rubbed your arm softly as you palmed at your eyes, trying to dry them. Taehyung moved to stand in front of you, grabbing your cheeks and bending to look into your glasses, red eyes. He rubbed your skin with his thumb, his large hand holding your head.

“Let’s not open up right now,” he whispered so softly to you. You nodded, not able to trust your voice yet. “He gently pushed his lips on your forehead, his brows crunching as he held his lips against your skin for several seconds, feeling pain in his chest from seeing your own pain. H epulled from your forehead before he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go upstairs. You have tea? I’ll make you some” You just nodded again, following him upstairs.

Taehyung spent that day with you. He cleaned your face and wiped your tears. He reassured you and made you speak your frustrations. He took care of you in a way you didn’t think a man ever would. He made you change out of your corset and set your apron in the wash bin to soak the dirt stains out. He brushed your hair out before he sloppily pinned it up. He stayed by you all day and far into the night. When you fell asleep that night, you shocked to wake up the next morning without a single dream to plague you. Even more shocking, you gasped lightly when Taehyung was sleeping in front of you, eyes shut easy and arm under his head as a pillow.

He never left your side. All that previous and all night, he was there. You cupped your mouth as a wae of resh tears spilled over the side of your face. You pushed your face into Taehyung’s neck, startling him awake as he rubbed your back.

“What’s wrong/ Tell me? Did you have a nightmare?” You just shoo your head as you hiccup. “Y/n?” You cried tears of relief and realization as you finally attempted to yourself that you were in love with Taehyung. So very much in love with him.

He left the night of day two he had been with you. He wanted to stay longer, stay forever if he could, but he knew he had to get back to the palace. One day without his appearance wasn’t odd, many assumed he was probably locke din his room. However, any longer and he feared someone would grow nosey.

He left you that night as you flushed at the kiss he pushed on your forehead. He held your hand softly before he flipped his hood up and ran off. You went back upstairs, suddenly exhausted and fell into sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the murmur outside. You rubbed your eyes, going to your window and opening it. There were people whispering with cupped hands as they pointed to your library. You assumed they were still talking about the debacle two days prior with Lix and Horan. It wasn’t until you came downstairs when you saw two people standing with their backs to the front windows of your library.

Unlocking the door and opening it, the two people turned to you. They were both men and dressed in guard uniforms. They were from the palace and part of your blood froze. Why were castle guards standing at your storefront? You swallowed as you greeted them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greeted trying to remain calm. One stood forward, holding a spear in his arms as the tip pointed high to the sky. He seemed to be the higher rank of the duo.

“Fine morning, Miss. I do not wish to alarm you, but we have immediate orders to escort you into Navern Palace.”

“What?” You choked. You took the time to look around again. You noticed that instead of all judgmental eyes, some gazes were envious or even respectable. They looked at you like you were some higher being or had some power over them. You crunched your brow.

You were ready to talk to the guards when you felt someone run into your back, knocking you forward a step. You turned around and saw Lix, Horan in front of him his arms stretched out. The bigger man had pushed the smaller and the look Lix gave you when he saw it was you he rammed into was one of almost terror. He straightened out as he stood beside Horan, both bowing deeply towards you.

“We’re sorry!” He cried as they ran off like scared children. Your brows flicked up higher. What in the world was that? Were they scared Taehyung would show up again? You momentarily forgot about the guards until one cleared their throat to gain your attention back. The one who spoke to you scolded his underling.

“Do not force her attention by force in such a rude manner!” He shouted as you quickly hushed him.

“No! It’s fine! I’m not offended or anything.” You sighed when the higher-ranked guards only bowed to you and offered his thanks, the younger mirroring his actions. “So, I’m to go to the palace?” You asked, trying to restart the original conversation. The guards stood right up again.

“Yes, Miss. Luos has asked for you.” YOu gasped lightly.

“God Luos asked to see me?!” The guards nodded. Your mouth grew dry as you swallowed to try and find saliva. You licked your dry lips. “I- okay.” You relented. If the God of your kingdom really did request you there, you had to go. You hoped he didn’t mind librarian clothes and a slightly stained apron. You had no time to change and get ready as the guards had begun to usher you off after you locked your library door.

As you walked with the two men, you watched some children smile and wave you. Some women stared in awe at you as if they knew something you didn’t. Men looked at you in caution as if they were committing a crime if you met their gaze. What possibly could’ve happened overnight to get gazes on you in a totally different light?

The moment you crossed the brick bridge across the mote and stood at the giant gates of the palace, you looked in open-mouthed awe. The castle was a gargantuan wonder up close. It took your breath away. The sides of it were as beautiful as the Sun God it housed you were sure. The idea of you probably meeting the God of the Sun, Luos made your stomach turn. He had been silent for so long, what did he suddenly pop back into the public gossip for? And to summon you of all people in Navern?

You were lead to a wide, open, beautiful throne room. The throe at the back of the room at the end of the long, golden rug and up 4 steps of marble was empty. No God was there. You stood walking closer to the throne and taking in the fabric, patterns, and creation of it. Itw as a wonderfully beautiful chair. You gasped with enough force to knock the breath out of you when the heavy, tall doors of the throne room wheezed open again and a voice echoed behind you.

“Would you like to have a seat on my throne?” The voice so scarily familiar and you hesitated to turn around. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you. There was no way. You heard the echoing steps come closer to you as your back remained towards him. Luos was behind you, that you knew for sure- he addressed this throne you stared wide-eyed at as his after all. You felt him stop behind you, his loom presence burning at your back. “Will you not turn to look at me?” His voice was lower, quieter. You gripped your have stained apron as you took one step forward, putting distance between you and he as you then slowly stepped around to face him.

Your eyes were focused at his feet. He walked barefoot. Golden anklets around his skin. His trousers were black as they were rolled at his shins. Following his pant legs up, his white shirt was long and loose on his body. Following it up higher, you saw a golden robe of printed suns adorn his shoulders and you could vaguely see bracelets of gold wrap up his forearms like guards. A thick golden collar of jews around his neck and a crown of golden spikes sat on the crown of his head. Dramatic and much like the rays of the sun.

This was Luos and as you looked into his eyes at his face, you gasped. This was Taehyung.

“I hope the sudden call to my home wasn’t too alarming, Y/n,” he told you softly. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but you weren’t screaming yet so he considered it progress. You just stood there, gaping at him in silence. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, making you flinch, but not back away from him. He smiled softly. “Is who I am truly that shocking?”

You didn’t know how to politely say ‘yes it fucking is shocking’, because the man you’ve been visiting with the past two weeks was a God. You gasped, taking another step backward. He rose his brow in confusion as his hand hovered in the air now. You had let the God of Navern into your rackety all home. You gazed at him in starstruck gazes for hours before. You had told him so many personal events and facts about yourself and you began to flush.

Luos, God of Navern’s Sun had picked your pushed and bullies body off the dirt road just two days ago and had stayed at your home with you alone for over 24 hours. Your cheeks grew darker.

You had fallen in love with Luos and you didn’t even know it.

Was that wrong? You started to inwardly panic. Was it against some scared law of Gods for a human woman who was clearly outcasted from her city to fall for a God? Even if it was unknown to you in the time you were falling, would it be punishable by some degree? Was that why he called you here?! Had he seen through your obvious red faces and stuttering and brought you heard to punish you for your feelings that you should or should’ve been feeling?

Taehyung stepped forward, seeing your mind start to flip. He grabbed your shoulders and pushed his lips against your forehead. Just as he had before. He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t change just because of who he was. He was guilty of hiding the ruth from you, but what choice did he have? He was a shut-in God only a couple of weeks ago, but now he was determined to change it all. And he’d need the help of a prophet for that.

“Calm down, dear,” he soothed. His warm hands pushed against your covered shoulders and you did start to calm. Trying to ignore your warming ears at the endearing name. He felt you slacken after some time and moved to look at you again, stepping just a bit away from you. “Are you alright now?” You nodded. He took his hand and pushed your hair from your face to see you clearly. He smiled at your flushed cheeks. “Red is a color that suits you,” he teased.

You were silent as you looked at your feet. Biting back a ‘shut up’ because in all honesty, how do you talk to him now? Wasn’t it rude to be so direct to a Sun God. A royal God who lived in the royal palace of his own kingdom. You had to watch what you say and say it all respectfully. Taehyugn seemed to know your thoughts as you felt his thumb rub beneath your ear, his hands dipping under your jaw to lift your head up to meet his gaze.

“Do not change yourself because you see me as Luos. My name truly is Taehyung and everything I’ve told you about myself these past weeks is all truthful. I’ve never once lied and I never once will.” He dipped his eyelids, his eyes pleading with you to believe him. “I don’t want to appear different to you now, so don’t treat me any differently.”

You raised your hand to push over his that held your jaw the other staying fisted loosely around your apron. Taehyung smiled at your palm’s warmth. He watched you take a deep breath through your nose before pushing it out of your lips. You looked up at him warily.

“I won’t get punished for being blunt to a God?” You asked carefully. You were blunt, yes; but you were always careful of your words towards him. He smiled.

“Of course not. Why would you be punished if the God you’re speaking to gave you pardon?” You finally smiled a small bit. One that made Taehyung break out into a smile so large he nearly let out a small giggle at you. The way he held your jaw and squished your cheek combined with your small smile, he almost pushed dimples into your cheeks.

You both stood in silence for a while before Taehyung dropped his hands from your jaw and moved to hold your hands in his. Threading his fingers with yours. He was affectionate before, sure. He would often plop his head into your lap as you read to him and of course he slept beside you that one night he decided not to leave your side. However, his laced fingers with your brought warmth to your chest.

“Do you remember when you talked to me about your dreams that first night we met?” You nodded. “You remember when you explained that the hooded figure would always appear and you’d wake up?” You nodded again, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, I think that actually was me.” You lightly breathed in an air of confusion. “Sometimes,” he began, “humans are born with something close to supernatural powers. Some can move objects without physical touch, some can see pasts and futures of people, others can even control the mind of others. Then, there are some like you, who are shown prophetic dreams of things to come.”

“Come to think,” you started with a raising brow, “my dreams did stop after that first night we met. I just thought it was because I finally talked about them. However, you’re saying-”

“I believe you were meant to have those dreams and you were meant to meet me that night. That night I felt like I met someone I was always destined to. Prior to that, I had this nagging in my chest,” he lifted his hand to push against his torso, “and it compelled me to go out into town. It cannot be coincidental that I met you that and the nagging abandoned me.”

Taehyung stopped his talking before he looked over your shoulder. He took your intertwined hands and moved to drag you towards his throne. Helping you to not trip up the marble steps, he soon stood with you at his throne of gold. He held your hands tightly.

“Navern is my precious kingdom I care so much for. I’ve had my time of being reclused and I need to go back into my kingdom and reclaim it with new eyes. I cannot do that on my own. I need someone to help me and to help keep me balanced and straight. They will also help keep my words strong to my people who believe in me and my Sun.” He took a deep breath before he removed on hand from yours and took to his pocket, pulling a scarlet red sash from his trousers that had a hair comb wrapped inside of it.

It was a beautiful piece. A golden frame with solid, silver teeth with gaps made to avoid severe tugging of the hair. You slowly reached out with the hand not held by Taehyung as you ran your fingers over its heavy glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him as he smiled.

“I know. It belonged to my mother. A long, long time ago.” You looked up at him with a bit of sadness in your eyes. You knew how he loved his parents, he had told you all about them one night and got a bit more emotional than he’d like to admit recalling so many memories. “I want you to have this now.”

“What?” You breathed.

“Y/n,” he put the comb and it’s scarlet fabric in your open palm before he brought your other hand up to sandwich the comb in your hands. His hands around your own before he lifted them to his forehead. “I want you to help me regain the social regime I have let die. I want you to wake up in this palace day by day with me. I want you to stay here and use this comb as you stay with me as my chosen Prophet.” His voice cracked like he was going to cry admitting it all. “I’ve never-,” he took a breath, “I’ve never been in love before. I died too young so long ago I never experienced it. However, I know now I’m positive that I’m falling in love with you.”

Your breath was sucked out of your lungs like a vacuum because of his words. “Do,” you started small, gaining his attention as he looked at you, lowering your hands back down, still holding them tightly. The comb’s cold material warming in your palms. “Do you really mean all of that?” You squeaked.

He nodded so quickly as he took a step closer. His nose was inches from you as he looked down at you. His feet stood between your shoes as he looked back and forth between your eyes. He truly was a beautiful man. “Yes. I swear, I-I mean everything.” He was so fearful you’d say no to him. What would he do if you left this palace and didn’t take his words with you? Would he still be able to visit you in town at the library? Would you avoid him? Shun him? He was scared of the negatives.

“What would happen to the library?” You asked softly. He knew it was important to you. Rundown and aged, yes, but it’s the place you spent your life with your family before they were gone. Taehyung wouldn’t let anything happen to that small, cramped home of yours. He loved it just as much as you. It’s where he spent so much time with you and learned so much about you. Where he ate with you and comforted you and slept beside you.

Taehyung loved that library.

“I’d keep it safe. I don’t want anything to happen to that library or your apartment you claim. It’s so precious to me now. I’d make sure no one got inside it to vandalize or. Nothing would happen to it and I’d keep it safe from ruin. If something is weak, I’d work to rebuild and fix it.”

“You’d do that for a small library when you have such a grand castle?”

“In a heartbeat. That’s the place I got to spend so many memories with you,” he softly admitted out loud. “You don’t need to agree to my request,” he told you, heartbreak in his voice. He wouldn’t force his wishes on you, no- never would he do that.

You slowly pulled your hands from his, opening your palms to see the golden comb in all it’s beauty again. You then handed it to Taehyung, having him hold it as you unraveled your messy, braided hair. Holding locks of it ver your shoulder, you looked at him and smiled.

“Can such a comb even brush such messy hair?” Taehyung’s face nearly split in two at the smile that erupted into his face. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, lifting you off your feet and toes to hold you so tightly. YOu felt his chest breathe heave, relieved sighs. He set you back down on your feet.

He moved to kiss you again, but not on the forehead. No, this time his lips fell beneath your eye. He kissed you and when he pulled his lips from your skin a small mark had begun to outline onto your skin. Shining with golden light before forming the shape of a butterfly, his insignia animal. He smiled again as he moved to sit you down into his throne.

He then moved to kneel in front of you, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles much like the night he first met you when he left you for the first time. He kissed your knuckles before he smiled up at you with his innocent, childlike smile.

“We’ll have to get you accustomed to the castle, my dear,” he giggled. He began to lead you to a room of seamstress servants to exchange your ordinary librarian clothes with fine, silk robes of the Sun’s golden glow.

The only thing he kept secret from you now, was the fact that not only were you his Prophet, he also may have told the townspeople that if they mess with his fiance and future wife again, he, the God Luos would not be pleased. Of course, you didn’t have to know you were engaged quite yet.

a/n pt.2 - Tell me all what you think! I spent 5 hours writing this in one sitting and I’m pretty proud of it ngl. So lmk!!

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