#taehyun x Y/N | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jjunieworld · 8 months

Text

february 14th 𓍼 🌾 ·˚ ༘

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, some fluff if you squint, strangers (kinda) to lovers, college au, major character death, death in general (both on page and mentioned), kinda dead dove, talks about grief

synopsis: this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.

word count: 13.6k┊masterlist

a/n: omg first 10k+ word fic!! happy birthday tyun!! this is lowkey inspired by a manga series called orange (which is one of my all time favorite mangas! you should really check it out because it’s so so so good but please look up tws), that one episode of supernatural where sam repeats the same day, and lowkey life is strange lmao. i am so so sorry my baby hyuka :( this was really interesting to write tho, so i hope you enjoy! ♡

if you had to experience another valentine’s day over again, you’d personally find and kill cupid yourself. you were sick of this day, sick of your confession, sick of the stupid crush you had. and most of all, you were sick of being stuck in this fucking time loop.

you don’t even know how you got in this situation. how the universe decided that, yes, y/n should experience the day where she gets rejected by her crush over and over again! wouldn’t that be so much fun? rest assured, it is not.

no matter what you did, your confession of liking kang taehyun always came to the surface, no matter how much you avoided him. whether that be from your actual mouth, or from someone else’s somehow. you didn’t even know how, since you haven’t told anybody about your crush—well, except your roommate chaewon, but that was purely coincidental and you were sure she wouldn’t tell anyone. and no matter what you did, or how you acted, or how you dressed, taehyun would always reject you.

this all had to be some sick joke that everyone was in on. what was the point of it all? you sighed as you woke up in your room, once again, on valentine’s day.

you looked over to your nightstand like you have for the five hundred and forty-seventh time. the confession letter you had spent so long on the night before—well, not the night before—was laying there. it's pretty pink paper with elaborate cursive writing, love doodles, and glitter mocking you. you glared at it as you got ready for your classes. you had tried once to leave it at your dorm room, to not give it to taehyun at all, but then your roommate showed up with it in the hallways.

“y/n! you forgot your confession letter to taehyun!” your roommate, chaewon, had practically yelled as she jogged over to where you were coming out of your class. heads turned to the both of you and you wished you could be six feet under. you quickly glanced around and made direct eye contact with taehyun, who was frozen mid stride with an open notebook in hand. you fled the scene and avoided him like the plague for the rest of the day, only for him to come up to you himself as you were getting lunch a good ways away from campus. “hey… about the confession letter… i’m really flattered, truly, but it just isn’t gonna work between us. i’m not looking for a relationship right now, i’m sorry.” he had said, before turning and walking away, leaving you gaping in the restaurant.

those words have been replaying in your head over and over for the past five hundred and forty-two loops. “it just isn’t gonna work between us,” at least he was kind about it.

you were tempted to just stay in your pajamas, but you’ve already done that last loop. yawning as you put your bookbag over your shoulders, you exited your dorm room and made your way to your first class of the day. no matter how much sleep you get in each loop, you were still dead tired. courtesy of staying up all night the night you made the confession letter.

realization hits you and you turn back towards your dorm at the same time that chaewon comes out of it, your confession letter in her hand. “y/n, you forgot your confession letter!” the both of you say at the same time, you mainly copying what she has said so many times before. “i know,” you added. chaewon’s eyes widened in shock, a smile spreading across her face. you took the letter from her and shoved it deep within your bookbag, definitely crumpling it.

“i’m in a time loop, chaewon. i know exactly what you’re gonna say.” you sighed and ran a hand down your face as you stifled another yawn. “sure, i can guess the next three words that are gonna come out of your mouth. lemon, eight, and cutie patootie, which are four words by the way.”

chaewon’s face dropped even more in shock. you just sighed deeper. “i’m gonna need your help today. that confession letter i made last night… it cannot get to taehyun. do you hear me?” chaewon just nodded and you gave a small nod back. you turned and began your way to your class again.

luckily for you, you shared your first class with taehyun. photography 101 with mr. kim. today’s class dealt with polaroid cameras, which you were also sick of dealing with. you sat in the empty seat near the window where you always sat and got your notebook out as class started to begin. if you were honest, you chose this seat cause it gives you the best view of your crush. the sunlight filtered hazily through the window illuminating taehyun’s features, making him look even more dreamy. it probably wasn’t the best idea, since you spent most of the class staring at him and wanting to take a picture of him; rather than paying attention to your teacher and what he wanted you to take pictures of.

you tried your hardest to focus this loop around. you wished that after how many times you lived this day, your crush would just disappear. i mean, you would think getting rejected five hundred and forty-six times would help right? wrong.

at first, you thought of the time loop as a blessing in disguise. there to help you fix your mistakes and finally get the guy you’ve been crushing on for a while now. wrong, again. for the first hundred or so loops you tried everything in your power to curate yourself to taehyun’s tastes. even going so far to dye your hair and buy a bunch of new clothes. nothing worked. it was hopeless. so now you’ve been spending the past four hundred and so on loops trying to get out of the loop. also hopeless. you just couldn’t crack what was keeping you here, on this day. and why you of all people.

mr. kim had given all the students in the class polaroid cameras, not the modern ones, but one of those old ones from the ninties. you rushed to get your things as class ended, polaroid camera in hand, when you ran face first into someone and spilled the contents of your half open bookbag all over the floor.

the polaroid camera had fallen from your hands and bounced off your foot, snapping a picture and momentarily blinding you with the flash. “if that camera is broken y/n you will be paying for it!” mr. kim’s voice had loudly spoken as you blinked rapidly and tried to get the spots out of your eyes.

“sorry!” you mumbled to whoever you bumped into as you crouched to the floor to grab your things. they crouched next to you and helped you. “don’t worry about it!” you heard a familiar voice say. you froze, hand in the air ready to grab your notebook, as taehyun’s voice rang through your ears.

the letter, you thought. the gears in your brain started working again, breaking you out of your frozen state, and you began getting your things off the floor faster. you shoved them into your bookbag without caring if things got bent or folded. taehyun handed you a couple textbooks, which you all but snatched from him, and also shoved those into your bookbag. after getting to your feet, you mumbled another sorry, before turning to fly out the door again.

“y/n, wait!” taehyun called from behind you. you froze again. please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the le— you thought. you slowly turned and saw him rise to his feet, your notebook in hand. he held it out to you, a small smile on his face. “you almost forgot this,” taehyun spoke.

“thank you,” you replied in a small voice, returning his smile. you took the notebook from him and bolted out the class. on the brightside, at least it would’ve been a short loop if taehyun had grabbed the letter. no doubt, once he saw the big ‘to taehyun, from y/n’ on the front in big glittery letters he would’ve rejected you right then and there and the day would restart.

the only time the day has progressed past the rejection was the first ever day, before the loop started. you had been so excited to give taehyun the letter, even if the sleepiness was tearing you apart. it was valentine’s day, the day of love, and you thought that today was absolutely perfect to tell him about your feelings. after all, at least you wouldn’t be alone in sharing your feelings for someone.

everywhere you looked, new couples sprang up. it made you giddy inside. that’s going to be me, you thought. you couldn’t wait, you had the whole confession planned out. after your classes for the day were over, you were gonna wait outside the arts building for taehyun. the sun would be setting and with the perfect backdrop of a beautiful sunset, you would hand him your letter. taehyun would read it, a smile crossing his face, and he would accept your confession, making your wish come true. it would be written in the shooting stars. then the two of you would start dating and run off into said sunset, blah blah blah.

except, that’s not how it all happened. you waited outside the arts building, the setting sun in the background. you had waited for forty-five minutes, unaware that the class was delayed thirty minutes and that taehyun would stay behind for another fifteen for help from the teacher. by the time he came out, it was dark outside. you were cold and annoyed, and the confession letter was held limply in your hand, spare glitter piling up on the ground.

when you had silently handed it to him, he looked at the monstrosity in shock. it was clear at first glance he knew what it was, and it was only made even more apparent when he opened the envelope and read the letter inside. “o-oh…” he stuttered out, and your heart dropped and the deliberate blankness of his face. “y/n, i’m—“ that’s all you could bear to hear before you just nodded and swallowed thickly, tears rimming your eyes, and ran off.

you had cried in your dorm room all night. the whole interaction replaying in your head as you wished and wished for a miracle until you fell asleep from exhaustion. imagine your shock when you woke up again, confession letter on your nightstand and the day reading as valentine’s day. a joke, it all was, all you hoped. it wasn’t. only one good thing came from the time loop, nobody remembered anything from the previous loop. only the previous day, february thirteenth.

you had gotten back to your dorm room, not having classes until later in the day and desperate for sleep, when you stepped out of the way of chaewon’s hands. “how did you—oh my god! you really are in a time loop!” chaewon exclaimed. you stepped past her and made your way to your dresser to change your clothes. “yes, and i’m very tired and would like to sleep the day away.”

“well, what about taehyun? what about your confession? does he know yet?” chaewon asked as you slipped some shorts and a plain t-shirt on. you turned to her, shaking your head. “no, and it’s for the best that he never finds out.”

chaewon furrowed her eyebrows. “why did something bad happen in the last loop? how many times have you relieved this day?” you just laughed wryly, “you have absolutely no idea.”

“we gotta find some way to sway his mind!” she then exclaimed. you shook your head furiously, sitting down heavily on your bed. “there’s no use, chaewon. he doesn’t like me like that. like, at all.” you tried to keep the sadness from creeping into your tone. chaewon sat on her bed, a pout on her lips. “the only thing we can do is make sure that he doesn’t even see the letter at all,” you added.

“well where is it? have you tried burning it?” chaewon asked. you stood to retrieve your book bag. “i have actually, didn’t work.” it was around the two hundredth loop when you were getting deeply frustrated. there was a campfire party happening that you went to after avoiding taehyun for the whole day. you had thought that you were finally in the clear, even let yourself begin to hope a little. that’s when you decided to just burn the letter and let it all be done with.

it sat in the fire, the edges burning, before a magical gust of wind blew it out of the embers. right into taehyun’s hands.

you literally couldn’t believe your eyes. there was literally no way that the letter just did that. that’s when you knew that this loop was a curse, that you’d be doomed to repeat this day until the end of time. and probably after that too. your mouth had dropped, taehyun looked over to you with furrowed eyebrows. you get the rest.

“i know, you don’t like me…” you had trailed off, overlapping his words. you turned to walk away and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed again.

you were rummaging through your messy bookbag when chaewon replied, “have you tried confessing to someone else?” you paused and turned to her. “i haven’t… actually…” you trailed in thought. this whole time you were so focused on your feelings for taehyun, you hadn’t even thought about anyone else. “i’m not sure it would even work,” you said. “even after all this time i still like him.”

“well, you have all this time… why don’t you try to start developing feelings for someone else and get over the feelings you have for taehyun?” chaewon said. you thought it over for a second. that doesn’t sound that bad of an idea. you already know that taehyun doesn’t and never will like you back, so what’s the harm? maybe it’ll actually work and you can be free from this loop. “who would i even like?” you asked, momentarily abandoning your bag.

chaewon pressed her lips together for a moment before shrugging. “there’s plenty of attractive people here, you could choose anybody!” you sighed deeply. “i can’t just choose someone to like… it doesn’t really work that way.” chaewon shrugged again. “it could at least help!”

you guess she was somewhat right. narrow the pool of people. you could go based on personality, or at least those the personalities you know of. whichever personalities clash with yours can get crossed off. “whatever,” you mumbled. “i guess it could work. i’ll think about it.” chaewon clapped happily as you returned to your bag for the letter.

heart dropping, you flipped your bag over and watched the contents inside fall to the floor. looking through the pile frantically, you came up with nothing. the letter was gone. chaewon called your name and you looked up at her, face paled. “it’s gone… the letter… it’s gone.” she crouched down next to you with furrowed brows and began searching herself. when she came up with nothing also, she sat back on the ground. “if you don’t have it, then where is it?”

that’s when you noticed a polaroid tucked under one of your notebooks. you pulled it out and stared at it. chaewon leaned over to get a look at it too. “taehyun must have it,” you said. the polaroid was a blurry picture of you and taehyun from class earlier that morning. “but if he has it…” you trailed. if he has it, then why hasn’t the day restarted?

you and chaewon spent the next forty-five minutes searching every nook and cranny of your room for the letter and still came up with nothing. you had explained to her how the time loop worked—as far as you knew it—and what it meant if taehyun had seen the letter. “so what does this mean?” chaewon asked, the two of you were sitting on your floor after cleaning up the mess you made. “i have no idea,” you replied. “i hope it means that all of this is over. but who knows if he actually has the letter. maybe somebody else picked it up when i dropped all my stuff.”

picking up the polaroid again, you stared hard at it. stupid camera. if you hadn't focused so much on it, you wouldn’t have ran into taehyun and dropped the letter in the first place. you rose to your feet, your class was about to start. “you’ll find it, y/n. and then maybe this whole day will stop repeating.” chaewon spoke, trying to comfort you. you just nodded solemnly, setting the polaroid on your desk.

suddenly you felt super dizzy and nauseous, and there was a heaviness on your heart. you held your stomach as you doubled over. chaewon jumped to her feet, her hand coming to your back as she bent to see your face. “y/n? what’s wrong?” all you could do was shake your head. you didn’t know. you’ve never felt like this before.

the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed to your alarm. you looked around your empty dorm room with confused eyes. did the day restart? you looked to your nightstand. there the letter sat. slowly, you got out of your bed and stood in front of it.

how weird. that has never happened when you restarted a loop before. taehyun didn’t even reject you, the day just started over. maybe it doesn’t have to be face to face? but, you didn’t get a text or anything. and if it was a mental thing, the day would be over before you even woke up.

you were getting ready for the day when chaewon came in from her early morning class. quickly, you explained to her the time loop again and proved the validity of your statement. “we’ll talk later about it, i have to get to class.” you said as you turned to the door. that’s when your eye caught something.

the polaroid you accidentally took from the last loop. it was still sitting on your desk in the exact place you sat it down. you ran over to your desk and snatched the picture, holding it up. you felt chaewon come up behind you. “what is it? oh! is that you and taehyun? when did you take this?” chaewon asked.

“i didn’t…” you trailed. “at least, not this loop. this is from the last loop. how is it here?” what is going on? chaewon took the polaroid from you to get a closer look. “that is so strange…” you nodded in agreement.

you left for your class after putting the polaroid back in a safe space on your desk. for the most part, the day was the same, except this time you took your time with your items and made sure your bookbag was zipped all the way.

when you were walking out of the classroom, you heard your name being called from across the hallway. you panicked for a second, thinking you forgot the letter and chaewon was here to spill your crush again. turning to the direction your name was called, you were shocked to see taehyun walking up to you.

your throat closed up the closer and closer he got until he was standing in front of you and you could hardly breathe. this was it, the letter somehow slipped from your bookbag and ended up magically in his hands. he was here to reject you and the day would repeat again and again. “i have more classes, but do you mind if we talk later on today? this afternoon?” taehyun asked. your eyes widened.

what did he want to talk about? you racked your brain for answers that didn’t come to you. this never happened in a loop before. usually, taehyun just straight up rejects you. “uh—sure!” you manage to push out, a nervous smile playing on your lips. he smiled back, handing you a small piece of paper with his number on it. “i’ll text you the when and where.” you nodded numbly as he said goodbye and walked away. did you just get his number? just like that?

“what do you think he wants to talk about?” you asked chaewon. “do you think he remembers the last loop? knows why it ended so abruptly and why that polaroid remained?” she sat across from you on the floor, a puzzled look on her face that was the same as yours. she thought for a moment before shrugging. “i honestly have no idea…” her face then lit up with a thought. “what if your letter from the last loop remained too and since he allegedly had it, he read it early? but since it’s the basis of the loop—or so you think—it got copied somehow?”

that actually didn’t sound too far off. it would help make sense of the way the last loop ended. also on why he suddenly wanted to talk to you. “you might be onto something, chaewon…” you trailed as you thought more on what she said. “but the loop resets when he rejects me, and he always rejects me. so if he had already read it, he would’ve already rejected me.”

“maybe the rules changed… you did say he didn’t explicitly reject you last loop. maybe things are changing. maybe the loop is starting to end and that’s why all these weird things are happening?” chaewon interjected. you sighed deeply and just shrugged. your head was spinning from it all. “i guess i’ll find out later today.” just in that moment you got a text from taehyun. you had texted him earlier saying that this was your number.

hey, it’s taehyun! can we meet at the benches next to the arts building in three hours?

you breathed in sharply. chaewon leaned over and pulled your phone down so she could read the text. “let me know what he says!” you just laughed a little and nodded, standing to your feet to get ready for your next class. you typed a quick text back to him.

yeah, that works for me. see you there!

you heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. you hoped that what chaewon said was true, that things were changing and the loops were finally coming to an end. you don’t know how much longer of this time loop you could take.

it was the meeting time for you to see taehyun. you had grabbed the polaroid from the last loop from your desk to ask him about and see if he had any answers. the chill of the morning had settled into a cool warmth. you saw taehyun waiting for you on the bench and felt goosebumps rise on your skin as you wished you brought a jacket.

his head turned to you at the sound of your approaching footsteps and he rose to his feet. “hi,” you said shyly as the both of you sat on the bench. you sat your bookbag on the bench next to you. “hi,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “what did you want to talk about?” you asked him.

taehyun turned to dig in his bag. your hands shook slightly in anticipation. he then turned back to you, a crumpled envelope in his hands. it was your confession letter. confusion washed over you. but your letter was in your bag? taehyun opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to stop him.

reaching in your bag, you grabbed your letter and held it out next to the one taehyun had and compared the two. they were exactly the same, except for taehyun’s version being crumpled and a little worse for wear. was chaewon right? both you and taehyun stared at the letters in confusion. “impossible…” you muttered under your breath.

you looked up at him, “there’s no way you should have this letter…” you were truly at a loss for words. taehyun’s confused eyes looked at you. “you dropped it…” taehyun began to speak before trailing off. you stared at each other for a moment.

“no, i didn’t—i mean i did, but that was… you shouldn’t—what is happening?” you stumbled over your words.

“wait… you remember dropping it? when we bumped into each other?” taehyun asked you. you stared at him with wide eyes. instead of answering his question you asked, “you’ve been repeating this day too?”

taehyun looked taken aback for a second before slowly nodding. your eyes never left him as you thought about what this meant. all those loops of you pining, changing yourself, and obsessing over his acception; all those things you did to try and get him to like you, he remembers? all those loops he rejected you over and over… you knew he didn’t like you, that much was obvious, but the fact that he remembered every five hundred and forty-eighth rejection caused your heart to hurt in a way you never thought it could.

embarrassment heated your cheeks. in order to save face a little bit, you turned and reached in your own bag for the polaroid. you held it out next to the matching letters. “how did these survive the last loop if…” you trailed off as you snuck a glance at him. you didn’t want to bring up how he rejects you each time you confess to him. he gently took the polaroid from your hands as he analyzed it.

taehyun’s face lit up briefly and he pulled out the polaroid camera from his bag. suddenly, you were blinded by the flash as he aimed the camera towards you. “hey! what the—“ you got cut off by another flash, this time aimed towards him. you watched him in confusion as he sat the pictures down on top of the letters and you both waited for the pictures to develop.

as the image came in, you could see how the both of you were blurred in them, yet everything else wasn’t. you leaned forward slightly to see them closer. even the bench wasn’t blurred. you took the camera from taehyun and ran up to the random person walking past. “photography assignment, sorry!” you muttered out before aiming the camera at the two of you steadily and taking a picture. the person looked at you weirdly before continuing on their way.

you walked back over to taehyun as the photo developed and stopped right in front of him in shock as the image developed. “what is it?” taehyun asked, standing to his feet and coming by your side.

in the polaroid, it was only you who was blurred, not the other person. “this is so weird…” you breathed. taehyun nodded in agreement. “do you think this has to do with the time loop?” he then asked, referring to the blurriness. shrugging a little, you leaned over to the bench and grabbed the other three polaroids and held them all together. “it has to,” you replied.

you then turned to him, “how does the loop end for you? is it different each time or does something specific trigger it?” taehyun’s eyes suddenly averted and you saw his shoulders sag ever so slightly. he moves to sit back on the bench. “um… it’s my friend… he—he dies.” your eyes widen and you stare at him for a moment, mouth agape. “oh! oh… i’m so sorry taehyun…” you trailed off, also sitting on the bench.

taehyun clears his throat, opting to change the subject. “how does it restart for you?” taehyun asks. you hesitate for a second. is it appropriate to bring up him rejecting you after he just told you that his friend dying resets his loop? “uh… well, this feels really inappropriate to bring up after everything, but it’s when you reject me.” you manage to push out. taehyun’s eyebrows raise as he glances over to you. the awkwardness in the air is so thick you’d have trouble cutting it with a knife.

“wait…” you trail off. you haven’t heard anything about someone dying today. does that mean he experiences more of the day than you do? “your day extends farther than mine does. if we’re both in the same loop, how does that work?” taehyun hummed in thought. “i’m not sure… but without any interruptions or changes, my day always ends at the same time. eight forty-five P.M.” he then looked up to you. “have you made it that far? or past it?”

you looked down at your feet, not wanting to meet his gaze. it only happened a couple of times, enough to count on one hand. the last being the one where you tried burning the letter and it didn’t work. “a handful of times, but it was only by avoiding giving you the letter. you always ended up with it somehow…” you replied. taehyun nodded, more to himself. he must’ve remembered the times. “well there’s two letters now,” taehyun motioned to the letters, “so maybe the loop will change? i mean, i obviously know about the letter and the contents and you’re still here. that has to mean something, right?” you nodded in agreement, ignoring the fact that he essentially just rejected you again. it honestly didn’t even phase you anymore after all this time.

“what if our loops merged and mine now ends when yours does?” you threw out. it would make sense as to why you’re still on the bench talking. taehyun shrugged, “it’s possible…”

you turned to him fully, your hopeful eyes gleaming in the sunny afternoon light. “there’s two of us now, i can help you save your friend! and we can get them and chaewon together and come up with a plan! maybe saving them is what gets us out of the time loop.” when you noticed that he wasn’t responding, you shrunk back a little into the bench. “…if you’re okay with that.” you added in a quiet voice.

you could practically see the gears in taehyun’s head turning as he thought. it was another moment before he opened his mouth to respond to your proposal. “i guess it wouldn’t hurt… and while we’re at it we can test the time loop merging theory.” taehyun finally said. a wide grin pushed its way onto your face. you began cleaning up your things, making sure to shove the letter back into your bag even if he already knew about it, as you stood to your feet. taehyun gave you a confused look.

“where are you going?” he asked you. you gave him a confused smile, “to go get your friend and chaewon… if we’re gonna save your friend we have to start now!” taehyun slowly began cleaning his stuff up. “but… we have classes…” you let out a loud laugh and taehyun stood to his feet after putting his stuff away. “what’s a class that you’ve experienced almost six hundred times to saving your friend?”

taehyun slowly started to nod, “you’re right.” you nodded back to him. “of course i am. let’s go save your friend!” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the dorms. chaewon didn’t have a class right now, if you remember correctly.

you wished you were in a loop of seeing chaewon’s face when you brought taehyun to your dorm room instead of him rejecting you. chaewon in fact didn’t have classes, you were right. you pushed the door open to your shared dorm room, scaring her half to death. chaewon’s eyes widened and her mouth went slack as you pulled taehyun into the room and shut the door.

“change of plans…” you spoke, turning to the two of them. you motioned a finger in between you and taehyun. “he’s in a time loop too and we’re gonna save his friend from dying.” if chaewon’s jaw could drop further it would. she sputtered for a moment, trying to push her words out. “i know, i know. i was shocked and very embarrassed too. but we have work to do.”

taehyun turned to you. “embarrassed?” he asked. you felt your cheeks heat up. did he really have to ask that question? “well… you did reject me almost six hundred times. and you have memories of every single one. that is very embarrassing for me…” you turned away from him, suddenly finding your desk very interesting, as you talked. you heard an “oh…” from behind you and felt yourself die a little more inside.

you pulled out an empty unused notebook from your desk drawer and turned back to chaewon and taehyun. chaewon managed to pick her jaw off the floor and her eyes weren’t as wide. “who are we saving?” chaewon asked. the two of you turned to taehyun. his eyes widened ever so slightly from the sudden spotlight. “um… his name is hueningkai. he’s my best friend.” chaewon nodded, looking down slightly. “let’s get to work then! we have people to save, everyone!”

taehyun then led the two of you back to where hueningkai’s class was happening, which was building b. the three of you were standing outside of his classroom when taehyun glanced inside. “he’s still in class, but we can just wait—“ he was cut off by you barging into the classroom. another good thing that came out of this loop is that you pretty much don’t have fear about anything anymore—for the most part.

you looked back at taehyun as the teacher stopped mid sentence and the group of students stared at you confused. “which one is him?” you asked him. taehyun gaped at you, eyes wide. you sighed and turned back to the class. “hueningkai?” you asked aloud. “please step forward. uh… it’s very import—important business that you’re needed for.” you then remembered the teacher and quickly added, “the dean sent us.”

the teacher waved his hand and a guy close to the back stood slowly. hueningkai packed his things up and made his way to the front of the classroom. you gave him an awkward smile as the two of you walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind you.

it was dead silent as the four of you walked out of the building. once you were in the clear of listening ears, you stopped and turned. hueningkai’s eyebrows were raised in confusion, an awkward smile on his face, as he looked between you and taehyun. “there’s no important business from the dean, she lied,” chaewon said. taehyun stepped towards hueningkai. “look, kai, this is gonna sound really weird but—“

you stepped to hueningkai and put your hands on his shoulders as you looked him in the eyes. “listen man, you’re gonna die today.” you heard a gasp come from behind you and taehyun started to say your name. you ignored both. “but that’s okay! because us two—” you motioned to you and taehyun with a finger “—are stuck in a time loop and we’re gonna save you!” you released him and took a couple steps back, nodding to yourself with a satisfied smile.

hueningkai looked absolutely terrified. “i’m gonna die?!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. chaewon took quick steps towards him, trying to give comfort. “no! well… i mean, yes, but we’re gonna stop that from happening!” she gave you a sharp glare and you noticed that taehyun had his head in his hands. maybe telling him outright was a bad idea…

taehyun pushed the two of you back. “kai… you get into an accident at eight forty-five… you don’t end up making it. i’ve been trapped in this time loop trying to make sure that you don’t die.” hueningkai took a deep breath as he stared at taehyun with furrowed eyebrows. he then ran a hand through his dark hair. “okay… so i die today. never thought i would say that.” hueningkai looked between the three of you. “so how do i not die today?”

you pulled the notebook out of your bag as you began coming up with the pillars of the plan. “first, we all go together in some safe space where we know nothing’s going to happen to you. also so we can see how far we can push the day before it resets for taehyun and i.” you started. “how about our dorm room?” chaewon asked. you turned to taehyun and hueningkai. they looked at each for a second before shrugging. “let’s head there now then!” you added.

thankfully nothing happened on the walk from hueningkai’s class to your dorm room. chaewon had gone out to get snacks and other things for the long night you all were about to have. you all decided that you were gonna skip the rest of your classes as well.

you were in the process of writing the ways that taehyun had tried to save hueningkai that ultimately ended up failing when hueningkai asked, “just how many times have you watched me die?” there was a pained expression on taehyun’s face that he tried to mask with a wistful smile. he looked towards you, “how many loops has it been now?” you stopped to think. “this is the five hundred and forty-ninth loop.” taehyun turned back to hueningkai. “um… about five hundred and forty-seven times, give or take.” hueningkai’s face paled significantly.

taehyun scrunched his face up as he looked back towards you. “if this loop just resets, what’s the point of writing this all down then?” that made you stop dead in your tracks. what was the point? “can’t you take a picture of it?” hueningkai asked. taehyun had filled him in on everything on the walk to the dorms. you looked at him with knitted eyebrows. “well, you said the polaroids stayed when you went into a new loop… just take a picture of it!” he added.

you guess that made sense. “but what if they don’t stay since it’s not of us?” taehyun asked. you pulled your polaroid camera from your bag and held up the notebook next to taehyun’s face as you got close. you quickly snapped the picture and sat it down on the hardwood floor in the center of you all as you waited for it to develop. “problem solved!” you smiled. taehyun blinked rapidly at you.

just then, chaewon came through the door with a couple bags in her hands. “i got snacks!” she exclaimed. she sat them on her desk and sat in the empty spot of the semi-circle. “what did i miss?” she asked as she leaned over to look at the newly developed polaroid on the ground. “writing down all the ways taehyun failed to save my life!” hueningkai laughed, before he saw the grave expression on taehyun’s face. “joking!” he then quickly added. hueningkai put his hand on taehyun’s shoulder. “it’s okay taehyun, we’re gonna figure it out. i’m gonna get saved and you’re both gonna get out of this time loop!”

“speaking of…” you trailed. you held the camera up so the four of you were all in frame. “say cheese!” you said, smiling for the camera. you heard a chorus of “cheese!” behind you as you snapped the picture. you sat that polaroid next to the other one on the floor. “just to make explaining more easier.” you added.

“if you keep snapping pictures you’re gonna run out of film,” said taehyun. you laughed a little, “it’s practically unlimited, given the loop.” he shrugged slightly, agreeing with you. “have either of you figured out why you’re blurry in the pictures?” chaewon asked you and taehyun. you both shook your head. hueningkai perked up. “maybe it’s because everyone and everything around you is essentially stagnant. like, technically none of us change by the end of the loop. we’ll all reset. but the two of you do—even if it’s not physically. you have the memories and experiences of the past however many loops you’ve been through!”

it was as if suddenly things started to click into place. “you’re right! if you think about it, we’ve been in this loop for like a year and a half days wise. yeah, some days were shorter and longer than others, but a year and a half nonetheless! time around us is kinda frozen if you think about it. maybe the camera picks up on that and we’re blurry because we’re the only things in motion!” you were waving your hands in the air, speaking a mile a minute, hoping you were getting your point across. taehyun’s face lit up more and more as you spoke and he nodded along.

“do you think it’s the same with our phones?” taehyun asked as he pulled out his phone. you all shrugged. he turned the camera towards you all and snapped a picture. taehyun turned back towards you all with a confused expression. hueningkai leaned next to him over his phone. “what is it?” you asked as you leaned forward. “it didn’t even take the picture… how weird,” taehyun replied. you looked over at chaewon. she raised an eyebrow at you, “maybe it’s because it’s new technology?” none of you really had an explanation.

the rest of the night went by pretty insignificantly. you all had gotten a bunch of blankets to make a makeshift bed on the floor for taehyun and hueningkai. everything started to go wrong in the middle of the movie you were all watching.

the four of you were sitting on the floor, a laptop with the movie playing in front of you, when all of a sudden you heard coughing. you snapped your head over to hueningkai, who’s face was turning red by the second. “oh my god! is he choking?” you heard chaewon ask as taehyun started frantically hitting hueningkai’s back. you jumped up to grab a water bottle.

handing the water bottle to hueningkai, he croaks out, “it’s my throat…” he tried getting the water bottle open to no avail. “is he allergic?” you turned to taehyun and asked, referring to the popcorn you were all eating. he was practically drowning hueningkai with water as he rapidly shook his head. hueningkai was turning blue. you, taehyun, and chaewon were all flying around the small dorm room trying anything to help hueningkai but it seemed as if nothing was working.

suddenly, it seemed as if everything stopped. you looked to taehyun, who had frozen in his spot. he looked back to you, his eyes wide and glossy, and you realized that hueningkai’s chest wasn’t moving.

the next moment, you were waking up in your bed the morning of february fourteenth, marking the five hundred and fiftieth loop. you didn’t waste any time. the polaroids from the last loop sat on top of your dresser where you had put them before the movie. you grabbed them just as chaewon came into the dorm room.

convincing her wasn’t that hard to begin with, but it was significantly easier with the polaroids. especially the one of the four of you. the two of you rushed to your morning class that you shared with taehyun, hoping that he has the same idea with hueningkai.

you saw him rushing up the hallway opposite from you, a confused hueningkai in tow. you barely stopped for a breath when you reached them as you pulled out the polaroids. “time loop, understand?” you asked hueningkai. he looked at the polaroid for a brief moment before nodding. you exhaled and doubled over, you and chaewon had practically ran across campus. looking down, you also realized that you were still in your pajamas.

“um… so that didn’t work…” you breathed, turning to taehyun. he simply nodded, eyes to the floor. he too was in his pajamas. the two of you must’ve looked crazy. “i don’t understand…” taehyun trailed off. he led the three of you towards the exit of the building. “if he wasn’t choking, then how did he…” he added, looking off to the side.

you stopped and waved them all over to the bench to sit. taehyun ran his hands through his hair. “i don’t know,” you spoke quietly. chaewon and hueningkai both gave you confused looks. you forgot that they didn’t remember the last loop. quickly, you filled them in on what happened, watching as shocked expression took over their faces.

“and you’re sure you’re not allergic to popcorn?” chaewon asked, leaning forward to look at hueningkai. “butter? salt? anything that goes into making popcorn?” hueningkai shook his head, “no… not at all. i’m confused as to how that happened too.”

taehyun was quiet next to you. his head was in his hands and he was bent over. you put a hand on his back as you leaned down a little. “taehyun?” you asked quietly. you felt him inhale deeply. he sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes.

“five hundred and fifty times…” taehyun started. “five hundred and fifty times and you would think that i would be somewhat used to it by now. use to death.” he dragged his hands away from his eyes. they landed heavily in his lap. your hand moved from his back to his shoulder. taehyun turned to his right to face hueningkai, “i’m so sorry, kai. i don’t know how to save you.”

you shook your head at that even though he wasn’t facing you. taehyun continued, “at this point, i don’t even know if it’s possible. you would think it would be, given the circumstances, but each loop keeps proving me wrong. i don’t know what else to do, but i can’t just let you die.” his voice cracked as he spoke and got lower and lower until his last sentence was just above a whisper. you felt your heart break at his sentiment.

you couldn’t help but think about how foolish you’ve been for the majority of this time loop. you spent so much time trying to get taehyun to like you back while he’s spent the whole time loop trying to save his best friend from a brutal ending. that time could’ve been spent coming up with ideas together, using your combined ideas to try and save hueningkai from death. but no, you were changing your appearance and crying over the fact he kept rejecting you. how idiotic. your face flushed with shame and embarrassment.

“we are going to save him,” you spoke confidently. taehyun turned to you, his face was stained with tears. “how? i’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.” you stood from the bench, thankfully the area around you wasn’t that populated with students.

“we have to get to the roots of the time loop,” you said, hitting your fist on your palm. “we don’t know how we got into it, we don’t know how to get out of it, and we don’t know why we’re the only two who are initially aware of it. so we have to start listing what we do know and work from there. we both know how the time loop restarts, and it has basically been confirmed that our loop restarts have been merged.” you didn’t want to outright list the reason, it was clear they understood what it was. no use in pushing the knife deeper into the wound.

you continued, “we need to know if there’s a general cutoff point to each loop.” chaewon nodded along, “do you remember what the time was when the last loop ended?” she spoke softly as she glanced over to taehyun and hueningkai. you shook your head. taehyun wiped his cheeks and furrowed his brows. “i think it was midnight?” he said, uncertainty in his voice. “i remember checking my phone like ten minutes before everything happened and it was 11:47pm.”

“and you said i was completely fine before…” hueningkai motioned over to you. you nodded. “so i would say that the general cutoff would be midnight, or the second before. it would make sense… you’re only limited to this one day within the loop.” hueningkai looked around at the three of you, seeing if you got what he was saying. you all nodded.

you motioned for them all to stand. “alright let’s go then!” taehyun stood and gave you a confused look, “go where?” you gave him a slightly amused look as you raised your eyebrows. “we’re gonna need a lot more than a notebook if we’re gonna plan this all out.”

you were thankful that you were on a college campus, so the confused and curious looks were at a minimum as the four of you carried four large poster boards across the sidewalks. you were heading to the library where chaewon had set up a meeting room for you all to sit down and work through your plan.

once you got to the library and the room chaewon had reserved, you breathed in deeply as you shut and locked the door behind you. hueningkai was laying the poster boards across the large table side by side. you walked over and began opening the pack of permanent markers you had bought as taehyun put both of your polaroid cameras on the table.

“okay,” you sighed as you began, opening the marker and leaning over the table to write on one of the poster boards. in big letters at the top you wrote ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ and added a bullet point for the loop ending at midnight, or the second before, exactly. “so we know that the loop ends at least the second before midnight.” you spoke and stood straight. “and we know that hueningkai wasn’t choking on anything. so that means we can conclude it was some magic of the time loop itself. the next thing we need to figure out is how to trick the loop.”

taehyun turned to look up at you from his seat next to you. “trick the loop? what do you mean?” before you could speak, chaewon did. “the day was just about to change, right, meaning that you had almost broken the loop. but at the last moment, hueningkai suddenly died. that means that somehow the time loop itself is aware. which means—“

“we have to trick it!” you, chaewon, taehyun, and hueningkai said in unison. their faces all brightened and you smiled to yourself. hueningkai’s eyebrows knitted together slightly. “but how do we trick the all-knowing time loop into believing i’m dead without me, you know, actually dying?” he asked, causing a couple chuckles to be let out around the room. the tension in the air lifted a little and your smile widened with newfound hope.

you leaned back over to the next poster board and reached over to the top of it. “by entering what i like to call phase two,” you spoke as you wrote ‘PHASE TWO’ on the poster board. under it you wrote, ‘WE KILL HUENINGKAI AND REVIVE HIM JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT.’ you looked up to wide eyes looking back at you. “and just how are you expecting us to do that?” taehyun interjected.

you smiled at him, eyes burning brightly, “it’s simple. we stop hueningkai’s heart three to four minutes before midnight—preferably three to be safe. in the seconds before it actually hits midnight, we perform cpr and save him!” it seemed like a good idea to you. i mean, it was really the only idea. hueningkai scrunched his face up, “i don’t know about this…”

“we’ll it’s either you die—briefly—and get revived, or you just straight up die. so pick your poison,” chaewon said. you heard taehyun mutter “jesus…” under his breath. hueningkai blinked at her.

“i guess either way i’m dying, so i would prefer it to not be permanent,” hueningkai spoke. you nodded in satisfaction. “how are we even gonna kill him in a way that doesn’t actually hurt him? in a way we can actually bring him back?” taehyun asked you. your smile fell slightly, you hadn’t really thought that part through. before you could say that you weren’t exactly sure, a phone ringing cut you off.

hueningkai looked around at the three of you with a sheepish smile as he pulled the ringing phone from his pocket. he looked down at the caller id, “it’s my sister. i’m sorry, i gotta take this.” a worried expression passed across taehyun’s face as he began to stand. “no, you stay. i’ll go with him. the two of you remember all the other loops anyways, you need all the information you can get,” chaewon said as she stood to her feet. taehyun hesitated before nodding and falling back down on his seat. hueningkai and chaewon left the room, leaving you inside alone with taehyun.

you pulled out the chair in front of you, which was directly next to taehyun, and sat down. you wished that your heart didn’t speed up at the fact that you were alone with him. even now, your feelings for him haven’t changed. you were still in love with him, the confession letter still sat heavily in your bag.

“y/n?” taehyun asked. you turned to him in question. “i just wanted to say thank you. you know, for helping me in all this to save kai. you didn’t have to, but you did anyways, and i’m grateful for that. clearly, i wouldn’t have been able to do it alone.” you smiled softly at him. “it’s no problem! i mean, we’re in this together. literally.”

taehyun laughed at that and it made your heart soar. you were happy you could make him laugh after seeing him cry earlier. glad that you could give him some hope in this fucked up situation. “seriously though, y/n. thank you,” taehyun smiled at you, his eyes boring into yours. you gave a nod in response, your smile warming. “i’m here for you!” taehyun’s smile widened.

you were just doing what anyone would do if they were in this situation. there wasn’t any need to put you on some pedestal and give you a good person award because of it.

before you could get too lost in taehyun’s eyes, you turned back to the poster boards with heated cheeks. under ‘WHAT WE KNOW,’ you began filling in everything that you were a hundred percent certain of about the time loop, taehyun aiding you. when hueningkai and chaewon came back inside the room, thankfully none of them harmed, the two of you were shoulder to shoulder, each writing on seperate poster boards. taehyun had used the third poster board to write down things he tried that failed to save hueningkai, ‘WHAT FAILED’ written at the top.

hueningkai and chaewon had sat in the seats across from you two, looking at everything you had added. “do you think there’s a way we could make these stay between loops? like the letters and polaroids besides taking a picture?” taehyun asked you, waving a hand with a marker in it over the poster boards. you sat back in your seat in thought and looked over to the polaroids that were spread out next to the cameras.

you tried thinking of an idea, but came up blank. “i have no clue. i mean, it has to be possible. we still don’t really know why there are two letters.” it was silent for a moment as everyone thought it over. “you said your loops essentially merged to join his, right?” chaewon asked you, causing you to nod. “and you said that when that happened, the letter was missing and the loop ended suddenly, causing the letter to duplicate and for you both to have one. now the time loop restarts for the both of you when he—“ she jabbed a thumb in hueningkai’s direction “—dies. have you tried seeing what happens what happens when… you know…” chaewon trailed, referring to you getting rejected.

you glanced over to taehyun to see that his eyes were fixed onto the table, cheeks flushed. you bet you didn’t look too different. you both haven’t really talked much about that part of the loop. granted, you had better things to worry about. “i mean… just to make sure that the loop doesn’t restart…” chaewon added awkwardly.

clearing your throat, you reached for your book bag to pull out the letter. you sat it on the table between you and taehyun and looked at him. “well… let’s try it so we can add it to the list.” just like that, awkward tension grew in the room.

taehyun swallowed thickly and reached for the letter. opening it, he read over the contents swiftly, already knowing exactly what it says. he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours. “i… i’m sorry, y/n, but i…— don’t feel the same way about you.” taehyun folded the letter back up as he looked away. you looked down to your feet. the tension in the air grew thicker.

silence hung in the air for a few moments, before you couldn’t take any more of it. “okay! we’re still here, so…” you turned to write on the ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ poster board. you then looked around the room. everyone was avoiding each other’s eyes. “back to figuring out ways to kill hueningkai… any ideas that won't ultimately hurt him in the long run?”

“what if i held my breath?” hueningkai asked, causing you and the others to laugh. you breathed a sigh of relief as the tension started to dissipate. “that wouldn’t work, your body would literally make you start breathing again,” taehyun replied, a grin playing on his lips.

chaewon face brightened with an idea, “what if we drowned him!” you, hueningkai, and taehyun gave her a shocked look and chaewon then realized she said that a bit too enthusiastically. “i would rather not be drowned,” hueningkai exclaimed as he gave a small smile to chaewon, a laugh at the edges of his voice. she chuckled slightly in return.

“suffocation?” taehyun offered. hueningkai tilted his head, “and would you be doing the honors of holding the pillow over my face?” taehyun smirked at him and replied, “if you want!” as they talked, you were writing all the ideas down, excluding hueningkai holding his breath.

hueningkai clapped his hands together, “suffocation it is!”

“what if your body starts fighting back?” you asked, genuinely curious. hueningkai hummed in thought. from the corner of your eye you could see taehyun stifling a laugh. “make sure you tie me down then,” hueningkai replied.

“kinky,” taehyun muttered under his breath, backing away from hueningkai’s attempt to shove him from across the table with a grin. you finished writing and put the cap on the marker, tapping it against the table. “let’s get to it then!” you smirked.

suddenly, chaewon spurted, “what if when you past midnight, things change for the worst?” everyone stopped in their tracks and the room fell deathly silent. what did she mean ‘change for the worst’? the thought seeped into your head like ink and you tried not to let it spread over your thoughts. “that won’t happen,” hueningkai assured everyone, though he didn’t seem to believe his own words that much. if you were in his position—hell, you don’t even need to be in his position—you wouldn’t believe them either.

you glanced over to taehyun who, in turn, was already looking at you with wide eyes. his thoughts in them were clear; we all have to make it past midnight alive and well. all of us.

back at you and chaewon’s dorm, it was twenty minutes until midnight and you could feel the stress swirling around the room. you all basically spent the whole day in your dorm room, staring at the walls, too scared to eat or drink or even watch anything on the off chance it might somehow kill hueningkai.

at some point, chaewon suggested that you all got to know each other. you didn’t miss the sly smirk she gave you either, deciding to ignore it with a roll of you eyes. halfway through, she suddenly struck up a conversation with hueningkai about some school topic that you knew she didn’t have any interest in, leaving you and taehyun to continue the game alone.

deep down, you felt thankful for chaewon, even if she was deliberately trying to set you up right now. honestly, you didn’t know how you would’ve got through this time loop without her.

you and taehyun started asking the randomest of questions to each other. spanning from what your favorite color was to if you had to be any planet in the solar system, which planet would it be and why. your face was flushed with heat that you hoped he didn’t notice as the two of you grew closer. the confession letter burned hotly in your bag across the room, you could feel it like a tether to your soul, begging you to come closer. to reveal it.

during the exchange, you and taehyun somehow got closer and closer to each other as you answered the questions. the two of you were laughing and smiling at each other as your knees and shoulders brushed together from your closeness. you hadn’t even realized that chaewon and hueningkai were whispering to each other now as they stared at the two of you.

the night continued like that up till now. the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. hueningkai was laying on your bed, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. chaewon kept her eyes on the clock on her phone. she downloaded an app that allowed her to see down to the millisecond. you and taehyun were still sitting on the floor, just as close as you had been the whole day.

you looked at him and his eyes trailed over to yours from where he was watching hueningkai on the bed. you gave him a slight nod, squeezing his knee briefly before standing to your feet. “we should get ready,” you said. the others nodded in agreement.

ten minutes until midnight and the pillow was shaking in taehyun’s hands as he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down to hueningkai. you stood next to him and chaewon stood behind you, giving you updates on the time. “it’s okay taehyun,” hueningkai whispered as he looked at him. taehyun just shook his head solemnly in response.

hueningkai sat up, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed in between you and taehyun. “i’m gonna try holding my breath,” he spoke. taehyun opened his mouth to argue, but hueningkai swiftly cut him off with, “i’m holding my breath. if it doesn’t work, well, you guys are in a time loop...” he scooted backwards so his back was flush with the wall.

“five minutes until midnight,” chaewon announced. hueningkai looked at the both of you. “be ready to revive me…” he trailed. hueningkai opened his mouth wide, gulping in as much air as he possibly could before closing it tightly with puffed cheeks. he closed his eyes, letting his head hang and his body relax.

you felt something squeeze your hand tightly and glanced down to see that it was taehyun’s hand. you felt it tremble as his locked nervous stare remained on hueningkai. “two minutes,” chaewon breathed out.

hueningkai’s face was turning purple and you wanted to advert your eyes so badly but couldn’t let yourself. his body watch twitching as it fought against him and his eyes squeezed together tighter. at this point, you didn’t know if it was him or the magic of the time loop taking over. hueningkai’s body went still and he fell over limply, his final breath smoking out between newly parted lips, just as chaewon called, “one minute, it’s go time!”

taehyun was squeezing your hand so tightly you thought it might break, but you didn’t make any moves to remove it from his grasp. chaewon started to count to twenty and as soon as she hit it, taehyun jumped into action. he pulled hueningkai towards him and the two of you got him down to the ground as gently and as fastly as you could. chaewon started doing cpr on him and there was nothing you and taehyun could do but watch and wait.

chaewon had thrown her phone to you when she dropped to the ground, and you took over managing the time. “thirty seconds!” you shouted, as chaewon started pushing on hueningkai’s chest in regulated increments and blowing air into his mouth.

“ten seconds,” you managed nervously. hueningkai still wasn’t breathing. you heard taehyun’s heavy breathing next to you as you watched the numbers grow closer to midnight. with your eyes still on the clock, you took taehyun’s hand as the final three seconds were up.

you woke up in your bed, confession letter on your nightstand, on the five hundred and fifty-first loop. you jumped to your feet, wasting no time as you grabbed your things, when there was rapid knocking at your door. you turned to the door in confusion. when you opened it, a frazzled looking taehyun was on the other side. you beckoned him in.

“so stupid…” taehyun muttered under his breath as he paced the room. “so stupid to let that idiot hold his breath, what was i thinking?” you walked up to him and put your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stop his pacing and to look at you. “taehyun, take a deep breath,” you said as you stared into his eyes intently. you felt his shoulders rise and fall as he obeyed your command, his eyes fluttering closed. he took another before opening them again.

taehyun took your hands in his. “we’re gonna save him,” you said softly. “all of this isn’t just on your shoulders, okay? we’re in this together. let me share some of the weight.” taehyun’s eyes were trained to the ground as he nodded. just then, chaewon entered the room.

she saw the two of you, your close stance and intertwined hands, and froze mid walk. her mouth opened but you broke away from taehyun and strode up to her before she could say anything. “chaewon! we need your help! we’ll explain on the way.”

later that day, the four of you were once again in you and chaewon’s dorm room. ten minutes until midnight on the clock and taehyun gripped the pillow in his hands so hard his knuckles were white. hueningkai was laying flat on your bed again, looking up to the ceiling.

“five minutes, go time,” chaewon said as she moved closer to the two of you. you gave taehyun an encouraging smile as hueningkai closed his eyes. inside, your stomach churned. you really hoped it worked this time, you don’t know how many times you could watch taehyun essentially kill his best friend to save his life. your heart ached for taehyun, you didn’t know how many more times he could watch his best friend die—let alone be the one to kill him.

taehyun lifted the pillow mere inches above hueningkai’s face. the pillow shook from his trembling. “i’m so sorry, kai,” taehyun whispered, letting the pillow fall from his hands. he took a large step backwards and folded into himself.

you couldn’t let this loop go to waste. springing into action, you inhaled deeply as you pushed the pillow down onto hueningkai’s face. behind you, you heard chaewon say, “you’re on time.” chaewon was then next to you, holding hueningkai down to make sure he didn’t move.

“tw—two minutes,” taehyun’s voice shook. hueningkai’s body stilled once again and you and chaewon brought him to the floor to begin cpr.

“ten s-seconds,” stuttered taehyun. chaewon was laser focused on reviving as you sat and watched. in your head, you counted down. hueningkai didn’t wake back up.

sighing, you woke up to the five hundred and fifty-fifth loop; the others failing once again. four times hueningkai had died. four more times you had failed to save him. this time, chaewon had the idea of hueningkai drinking a bunch of energy drinks before his untimely demise to help jumpstart his heart better. when she said it, you all looked at her with amusement, but any idea is better than no ideas right about now.

taehyun was at your door again, like he was for the past four loops. when he entered, he immediately pulled you into his embrace. for once, the time loop was good for something, you thought. it’s a blessing that the two of you don’t dream, you feared that that would break taehyun completely.

you rubbed taehyun’s back as he tried to stop himself from shaking. he pulled away slightly as he looked into your eyes. “y/n, i know the two of us have grown closer through dubious means, but i am truly glad i got to know you. even if this time loop never ends, even if i have to watch my best friend die over and over and over again, at least you’re there by my side. at least you’re the constant hope that’s here keeping me grounded.” taehyun cupped your cheek, pausing to take a shaky breath.

briefly, he glanced over to your nightstand where your confession letter laid next to your unmade bed. “it’s funny, february thirteenth—god, that feels like a lifetime ago—there was a singular shooting star that night. i was with kai and he was egging me on to make a wish. ‘to always be by his side,’ i wished, ‘to be his best friend forever and to keep him safe. to stay in his moment of happiness where nothing can even fathom touching us.’” taehyun let out a wry laugh before continuing. “the night he first died, i prayed for a miracle, for something, anything. screamed at the sky at the fact that shooting stars were pointless.”

he looked back to your eyes, a glossy layer covering his own. you quietly inhaled at his vulnerability, it all taking you off guard despite the amount of times you’ve seen him cry now. you intertwined your hands together, like you’ve done for the past four loops.

“i know now that shooting stars don’t fly for me. that miracles are one in a million. but despite all of that, you still give me hope. and i know that no matter what happens, we’ll still see each other again,” taehyun concluded. tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes and taehyun brought his hands back to your cheeks softly.

it was as if time moved in slow motion, taehyun moving towards you. when his lips pressed to yours, it was as if all the stars had aligned. you felt the morning sun heat your skin through your open blinds. he was wrong, shooting stars did fly, and they flew for the both of you.

when you both pulled away, slightly out of breath, you couldn’t help the smile that was on your lips. “i made a wish too,” you said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. “that no matter the outcome, no matter if you accepted my confession or rejected it, you’d continue being the person i grew feelings for. that your smile would always light up a room and bring joy to all of those around you. that i’d get to see your smiling face, full of happiness, everyday. that you’d always be happy.” as you spoke, the smile on taehyun’s face only grew wider, warming your heart and proving your point.

“shooting stars do fly for you, i’ll make sure of it if i have to. and you’re right,” you booped his nose slightly making him giggle, “we will see each other again. and you’ll see hueningkai again on a day that isn’t this dreaded godforsaken day. i’ll make sure of it.” taehyun pulled you in for another kiss just as chaewon entered. the two of you didn’t mind her, pulling each other closer.

“ten minutes,” chaewon called. at this point, you didn’t even need her announcements. you had the time down to a science. you looked to hueningkai, “you’re gonna live. i promise you that.” he looked over to you, a wide and wishful smile spreading across his face. how you wished that he and chaewon could remember the loops with you and taehyun. the four of you had grown so close given the circumstances that it made you sad that the slate got erased each time. but, it also made you happy. once you were all out of this time loop you could start anew, fresh. at least, in a way.

no doubt this time loop will always follow you and taehyun, like a ghost clinging to your shoulders. i mean, it’s been all you’ve known for so long, how could it not? you just hope you’re able to move past it and finally live normal lives.

“i hope so!” hueningkai exclaimed. you felt it deep inside. this time, your plan was gonna work. hueningkai downed the small case of energy drinks, cringing at the taste of them, and laid back down. he nodded at you and taehyun, signifying he was ready. “five minutes,” chaewon spoke, passing her phone to taehyun. you gave taehyun a smile. it was going to work this time.

the pillow came down and hueningkai’s body stilled as there were two minutes until midnight. you and chaewon brought him to the floor and the three of you crowded around his body. taehyun took your hand, giving it a squeeze, as you looked at each other. chaewon began cpr.

ten seconds until midnight and counting, chaewon shouted that she had a pulse. five seconds until midnight, hueningkai gasped in a breath of air and his eyes fluttered open. for the first time in all of the five hundred and fifty-five loops you’ve been through, you watched as taehyun cried tears of happiness. the three of you pulled hueningkai into your arms, laughing with joy at the fact that he was still alive.

“it’s 12:01am,” hueningkai’s raspy voice spoke as he pointed to chaewon’s discarded phone next to you all. you let out a gasp as you and taehyun stared at each other with wide eyes. “we did it,” he spoke, disbelief rounding the edges of his voice. “we did it!” you echoed, a large smile breaking out on your face. you bent down and hugged hueningkai, “you’re alive!”

you felt a pull deep within you, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your dorm room again. confusion pulled your brows and you stood to your feet slowly, looking at the confession letter on your nightstand in slight horror. no, this couldn’t be. this was impossible.

taehyun burst through the door of your room a minute later, not even bothering to knock, with a sleepy hueningkai behind him. chaewon was a close second behind them. with wide eyes, taehyun exclaimed, “he remembers! the time loop, he remembers!”

“i remember too!” chaewon laughed. you all let out shocked laughs, not quite sure how else to react. the four of you fell into a group hug. you would kill to see an outside perspective of all of this. four frazzled college students in their various pajamas with the weight of the world on their shoulders, seeing things that nobody else has seen before. it would sure be a sight to behold.

“so is this just a regular day then?” hueningkai asked, his voice muffled between the layers of clothing. “we get through today and tomorrow will finally not be valentine’s day?” you laughed as you pulled away, the others doing the same. “we just gotta get through today!”

taehyun turned to hueningkai, “you will not be leaving my sight today. we don’t need to enter another time loop.” hueningkai laughed and just nodded, a smile lingering on his lips. “what’s another day indoors?” chaewon smiled.

you all spent the day in taehyun and hueningkai’s dorm instead of you and chaewon’s. you all desperately needed the change of scenery. at one point, you all became curious to see if anybody else remembered the last loop besides the four of you. hueningkai managed to convince taehyun to let him roam around the dorms with chaewon to find out, “i just can’t say no to him,” taehyun had said.

when the two of you were alone in the dorm room, you pulled your confession letter out of your bag and presented it in front of taehyun. he laughed a little, “what are you doing?” you smiled, pushing it towards him more. “will you be my valentine?”

taehyun took the letter and opened it, like he did so many times before that he could read every word by heart. tell you where each spec of glitter resided on the pink paper. he read over the letter one more time, mock surprise and shock on his face. “i like you too, of course i’ll be your valentine.” he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips as you giggled.

“will you be my girlfriend?” taehyun asked once you pulled away. your smile widened, “i don’t know… maybe you’ll have to ask me over and over and over for me to decide.” he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. “i’ve liked you since the beginning, you know. you didn’t think i didn’t notice you staring at me in class? sitting just in the right seat so i’m always in your view?” you face heated tremendously and taehyun laughed as his thumbs brushed over your warm cheeks. “you didn’t notice that we were always in at least one class together? how no matter where one of us sat, we could still see each other?”

you pressed your lips to his to shut him up, not needing any more embarrassment. “i’ll be your girlfriend,” you chuckled as you pulled away. “it’s already bad enough you remember the early loops—god, i’ll never live that embarrassment down!”

“it was cute to see how much you liked me! i only rejected you because i had to focus on saving kai. if we weren’t in that stupid time loop we would’ve been together ages ago!” taehyun said, causing you to smile warmly at him. you laid your head on his shoulder and he laid his head on top of yours. “you know, at the campfire party, i was gonna ask you out but you spoke before i could and the loop restarted before i could say anything.”

you pulled away and whipped your head to face him, “what?” you urged him to explain himself. laughing, taehyun said, “yeah! when the letter magically flew into my hands? i had came up to you to ask you out but you assumed i was there to reject you again, which i mean, i don’t blame you for…” you looked at him in shock.

shoving taehyun lightly, you gasped in disbelief before pulling him towards you into a kiss. the door to his dorm jiggled dramatically, causing you both to pull away with a laugh. chaewon and hueningkai came into the room with shielded eyes. “you both decent?” chaewon asked. you just shook your head at them which chuckling, “we weren’t doing anything, assholes.” they uncovered their eyes and stepped further into the room, closing the door.

they sat down in front of you, giving each other a look and then high-fiving. you raised an eyebrow at them. “finally the two of you got together! chaewon and i were talking and it’s ridiculous how you both didn’t see how much you liked each other,” hueningkai said. you looked over to taehyun to see him roll his eyes, a small smile on his face.

the four of you stayed in the dorms for the rest of the day, hanging out and chatting together. you were happy you were getting to know them better, even if you did slightly freak them out with information they technically never told you about.

you were all leaned over chaewon’s phone, five minutes until midnight. taehyun’s eyes were on kai like a hawk and you could tell kai was nervous too by the way he kept fidgeting with the string on his pajama pants. “deep breaths everyone, everything is gonna be okay,” you said encouragingly. inhales we’re heard around the circle and the tension started to lift a little.

“ten seconds,” chaewon announced. you all watched as the numbers climbed to midnight, and then to 12:01 and 12:02 and all the way to 12:05am. taehyun let out a long sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly. “thank god, i’m starving!” kai said. you and chaewon jumped to your feet in excitement. “we fucking did it!” you shouted in celebration, pulling the two boys up to join you. you pulled the polaroid camera from out your bag and snapped a picture of the four of you, needing to cement this occasion forever.

“finally, february fifteenth, i could kiss the ground you walk on!” taehyun murmured, pulling you all into one big hug. you held onto them all. you had all made it, together. you tightened your grip on them, and you were never letting go.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @hueningm1ckey @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

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koqabear · 1 year

Text

Killer Instinct

× Playlist ×

“Beomgyu knows better than to get himself involved in that shady fight club you always warn him about— but he never listens to you, and despite how much you beg him to leave that place alone, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised when he starts bringing those same people you warned him about to you.”

MMA Fighter! Taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: underground fight club! au, mma fighter!taehyun, enemies to lovers, thriller/action, angst, smut

Word count: 37.4K

Warnings: general violence. (This is an mma au; fighting, blood, injuries, etc.) illegal activities (underground clubs, gambling, etc) older!mc (3 years gap), use of the word “noona”, talks about family issues, single parenting, tae is a little bitch, weapons, (knives, guns), stabbing, cigarette smoking, mc is also a bitch (they’re mean to each other), medical inaccuracies probably sksjsj, a bit of jealousy… mentions of bullying, mentions of power imbalance & manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of death & coping, mma inaccuracies bc i am not a professional!!

Smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is slightly bratty, manhandling, breast play, marking, biting, oral (f. rec), bro is a pussy fiend, (service top!tae? maybe?) hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie(s)

Notes: i’ve worked on this stupid story for so long that i don’t even want to look at it anymore. (/hj.) another warning that idk anything abt mma, so there are definitely inaccuracies! features literally the whole idol industry,,, they're scattered like easter eggs.

The air is thick and foggy; Taehyun can already feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow the moment he enters, pushed around like a rag-doll from the full capacity of the room. No one bothers to spare him a glance— he’s a nobody, a clueless figure that’s given away from the sheer curiosity that breaks through his eyes. The poor boy is forced to hold in a cough as someone proceeds to blow cigarette smoke in his face; he hears a few mocking chuckles around him.

None of that matters, though. The flickering, weak lights overhead manage to spotlight his objective perfectly, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he feels a grin threatening to spread on his face; before him, two unknown men stand in a ring.

Taehyun’s muscles twitch in attention— his mind is racing, imagining himself in their place as he watches the two slowly circle each other, wondering what he would do if he were in their place; even from here, Taehyun can see the hungry look on one of the men’s faces, a bloody grin stuck on his face as he keeps his hands up and close— his hair is tied up and out of his face as he stares his opponent down.

It’s tense, wild even, as he finally swings, landing a punch to the other man’s stomach as the crowd around the ring roars— in approval or dread, he isn’t sure entirely. It’s a mixture of everything, men and women alike gesturing wildly as their screams blend in with the crowd; all to form a violent audience, closing in hysterically on the ring in hopes of getting a good view.

Taehyun feels adrenaline coursing through him— it’s contagious.

He fights the urge to try and push through, curious to see what might be going on as a sudden unanimous roar sweeps through the crowd. His eyes dart wildly, watching people celebrate, clapping each other on the backs as they cheer; others don't share the feeling, upset or even angry as he finds people being held back from trying to get on the ring— security is quick to put an end to it, though.

And as he slowly watches the crowd scatter, he sees the same man from before circling the ring, bloody and bruised as he walks back to the referee; his arm is thrust up by the official as his supporters cheer in victory. Eyes scanning the room, his eyes briefly land on Taehyun’s before he’s back to gloating, proud despite the clear beating he took himself.

Taehyun can feel his ambitious heart beat faster— he doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but he wants to be up there next.

The buzz of it all is quick to calm down; it’s as though nothing happened, and he notices the way the unconscious man gets picked up and carried towards an infirmary— taking in his condition, Taehyun shudders, trying to shake it off before he looks for his target.

“‘scuse me,” Taehyun says, voice rough and as confident as he can get it to be— he hopes the referee can’t see through his act of bravery. The man barely spares him a glance before he nods, seemingly able to see what he’s here for— the small quirk of his lips is more mocking than anything to Taehyun.

“What do you want, kid,” the unamused tone of the man before him isn’t very encouraging— for a moment, Taehyun almost feels foolish for stepping inside such a foreign ground without proper connections; he’s quick to push the feeling away, much too used to the patronizing looks he gets for being a newcomer.

“Get me in the ring,” he can’t seem unsure now— if anything, any ounce of hesitation will get him denied immediately. Taehyun is demanding, jaw clenched and gaze hard as he stares at the older man before him; his eyes narrow at the younger’s words, and for a second Taehyun wonders if he took the wrong approach.

“You got money to bet?” The older man’s words only bring excitement to Taehyun— he can’t hold back his eager nod, ignoring the man’s amused chuckles as he reaches into his duffle bag; carefully, he pulls out a thick wad of cash, allowing it to peek slightly out of his bag as he glances back up at the referee— judging by the smug look on his face, Taehyun is sure that what he’s brought is more than enough.

“Good boy,” the referee whistles, but Taehyun chooses to ignore his blatant mockery as he tucks the envelope back in.

“Jin,” the man introduces himself, offering his hand out in the introduction— Taehyun takes it, the smooth leather of Jin’s black gloves stained with blood as he holds the younger’s hand tightly; he tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice the blood smudge onto his skin, attempting to wipe it off without being noticed. “Let’s go get you on the registry, I’ll see if I can find another newbie for you.”

“Taehyun,” he says, following obediently as Jin weaves through the crowd effortlessly. Taehyun, however, isn’t as lucky, struggling to keep up as everyone seemingly goes out of their way to get in his path— it isn’t long before Taehyun resorts to pushing roughly through the faceless people.

“Newbie? I don’t—“ Taehyun grunts as someone shoulder checks him, turning to the side roughly as he attempts to keep his sight on Jin; slowly, he’s able to catch up, “Don’t put me up against a newbie.”

The curious glance Jin spares is enough for Taehyun to get the confidence to continue.

“Put me up with someone experienced— all or nothing.”

Jin can’t control the laugh that escapes him at the younger’s words; his head is thrown back, briefly catching the attention of those around him as he stops before the bar. Leaning against the wooden counter, Jin’s act quickly becomes unamusing to Taehyun as he’s forced to watch as the older man attempts to regain his composure. When he does, Taehyun can feel his jaw tick— pure mockery fills Jin’s eyes.

“You even know how to fight, kid?” Taehyun says nothing, afraid of what might come out if he chooses to open his mouth. But his steely gaze is enough for Jin, who reluctantly holds his hands up in surrender—he can tell there’s still a reluctance in the man to take him seriously.

“Fine, I’ll give you your money’s worth,” Jin mutters, glancing back at the black duffle bag that remains secured at Taehyun’s side, “from the amount you showed me, I’m sure I could get The Bear’s attention.”

“The Bear?” Taehyun echoed, frowning at the name. Jin only scoffs, rolling his eyes at the title.

“I know. Stupid, isn’t it? Whatever sticks, I guess,” the referee grumbled, clearly displeased at the thought of having to announce any ridiculous names— clearing his throat, Jin squared his shoulders as he shot Taehyun a smug smile.

“The one who just won— that’s The Bear,” Jin explains, narrowing his eyes as he gauged Taehyun’s expression, “I saw you staring— you stick out badly— and I know you wanna have a go at him.”

Solemnly, Taehyun nods— Jin only sighs at that.

“Of course,” he runs a hand through his hair, seemingly unfazed by the uncleanliness of his gloves, “everyone does.”

Taehyun wondered if Jin berated every newcomer like this— he wouldn’t put it past the referee, quite honestly. It hadn’t been long since they met, but this short amount of time had Taehyun wondering if the older man even wanted to be a part of this place; slowly, a fire lights in Jin’s eyes, leaving Taehyun confused as he watches the man let out a cruel laugh; his eyes were no longer on Taehyun’s, but instead at a very distant point behind him— one glance over his shoulder and he was able to see victor from before approaching— The Bear.

“Cocky, faceless fighters like you,” Jin calls out, bringing Taehyun’s attention back as the younger’s eyes meet his— something is threatening within them, and Taehyun wished that he didn’t feel a sense of danger lick up his body as a grin overtook the referee’s face, “I love watching them get put in their place.”

Taehyun was unable to say anything to that— Jin’s expression seemed to light up as he pushed himself off the bar, his gloved hand slapping on Taehyun’s shoulder, startling the boy as he felt himself turned around forcefully— any angry comments died on his tongue as Jin pulled him into his side, walking forward as he called out a foreign name: Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu!” Jin calls out, grinning wildly as he forces Taehyun to follow along. Like before, Taehyun is turned into nothing but a rag-doll, fighting back the urge to shake him off as they approach the man— he can feel the curious stares of the patrons dig into him, and Taehyun begins to wonder what he got himself into as Seokjin’s fingers dig into his shoulder— almost as though he were preventing him from running away.

One look at the man before him has Taehyun’s nerves on fire— were they really going to let him fight like this? The man before him is bruised and bloody, refusing to stop at the infirmary as he shrugs on his coat; slowly, a grin overtakes his features, a slight wince stopping him as his cut lip reopens— Taehyun can hear the man curse under his breath.

“Who’s this?” Though Beomgyu’s eyes remain on Taehyun’s, he’s not truly talking to the newcomer; Jin is quick to respond, shaking the young boy teasingly as he laughs.

“Taehyun,” Jin says, patting the boy’s shoulder as he glances at him, “says he wants to have a go at you.”

Beomgyu quirks a brow at that— he’s clearly amused, letting out a soft huff as he’s crossing his arms over his bare torso; Taehyun can already spot dark bruises forming in certain spots, his thin and reddened fingers tapping at his bicep impatiently as he surveys Taehyun.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu drawls, tilting his head as though he were in thought, “I don’t wanna scare the poor kid off by giving him a good beating.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about all he can put up with; shrugging Jin’s hand off his shoulder, he scoffs, stepping forward and coming face to face with Beomgyu— the man isn’t even much taller than him, and he seems to be around his age too— yet the arrogance pours off him in waves, looking at Taehyun as though he were lesser than him— yet, he hasn’t seen what Taehyun can do.

Beomgyu doesn’t seem phased by any of this; it’s like the smug look on his face is permanent, his head held high as Taehyun takes a moment to survey him. The air is tense as the patrons at the bar become aware of what’s happening before them; it isn’t long before they’re all taunting either Taehyun or Beomgyu, encouraging them to fight in hopes that they’ll get another show.

“If anything, I should be the one worried for you,” Taehyun mutters, a fake look of sympathy crossing his face at the thought, his voice patronizing as he continues, “I wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty face.”

A pause. Beomgyu’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he fights back the smile that itches to show; shaking his head, he scoffs, enjoying the way Taehyun’s fiery gaze seems to burn into his skin. He sighs— it’s long and labored, his head thrown back as he shakes his bangs out of his face— then he reaches out, clapping Taehyun on his shoulder as he looks at Jin, nodding in approval.

“Get us in the next best slot,” Beomgyu says, and the spectators seem to grow more excited with his every word. Glancing back at Taehyun, he smiles; it’s mischievous and sly, but Taehyun doesn’t allow it to get to him as he stands his ground. “I need to freshen up.”

The room is buzzing with energy as everyone seems to spread out, watching Beomgyu disappear into the locker room before they begin to bet on the results; Taehyun grimaces at the number of people who are already betting against him.

“Seems like you bit off more than you can chew,” Jin whispers, leaning in as he bumps against Taehyun playfully. “You got twenty minutes; pray if you need to.”

Taehyun grits his teeth as Seokjin walks back to the bar, leaning in towards the bartender as they talk, glancing back at Taehyun before they’re laughing and nodding— it doesn’t take a genius to guess what they’re talking about. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Taehyun has no choice but to make his way into the locker room; he just hopes The Bear can save his temper for the match.

It wasn’t as though he wanted to provoke the man— if anything, it was the last thing he wanted to do. But, it wasn’t long before Taehyun realized that being nice wouldn’t get him anywhere; luckily for him, he didn’t truly mind.

The locker room is small, just as Taehyun expected; the lighting is dim and there isn’t much room to move due to the benches that line the walkways— Taehyun frowns at the inconvenient layout. At the end of the wall to his left, he finds a doorway to another room— he catches a glimpse of showers and bathroom stalls; the water runs on that side of the room, and Taehyun can already guess who might be behind the flimsy wall that separates them. Sighing, Taehyun looks for the nearest empty locker.

The sound of running water fills Taehyun’s head, blocking out everything else as he begins to think— attempting to remember all the moves Beomgyu used, trying to decipher his fighting style; his mind raced with different possibilities he could use to counter him.

“Hey,” Taehyun is ripped out of his reverie at the firm voice, his head snapping up at the realization that they were talking to him; turning around, he’s unfazed to find The Bear staring at him blankly.

“First time in the cage?” He asks, tilting his head as he surveys Taehyun curiously. Taehyun shakes his head in response, watching as Beomgyu only nods thoughtfully at that. It’s clear he took a moment to patch himself up, but it’s still strange to Taehyun that he’s willing to go for another match so soon— his cockiness only fuels Taehyun further.

“It sure does look like it.” Beomgyu doesn’t bother lingering around— he’s ready, clapping Taehyun on the shoulder before he’s walking away, heading back out as he spares Taehyun one last apathetic glance. “Don’t get your hopes up too much, ‘kay? I’ll even go easy on you.”

Taehyun says nothing. He can feel his jaw clench, trying his best to bite back another comment as he watches the older man exit the locker room; His fists tighten, the feeling of his hands tightening over the material of his wraps allowing him to calm down as he takes a steady breath. Sighing, his head is tilted back, eyes surveying the dim room for a clock— it isn’t long before he spots it above the doorway, calculating how much time he has left to prepare.

Ten minutes.

That’s more than enough for him.

⊹⊹⊹

The cage is freshly cleaned. It reeks of cleaner and is scuffed and old under Taehyun’s feet. He has no interest in hearing about the fight that went on before his— the bored mumblings of the spectators were enough for him to tune everything out. The seating area wasn’t that big, but it was enough for the people that were more than ready to gamble and waste away from alcohol as they watched; it didn’t take a genius to know that the regulations in the place weren’t very strict.

There’s someone new standing in the cage— a commentator, Taehyun realizes. He looks like he could be a fighter himself, but the fire in his eyes seems to be curated more for the thrill of commentating every detail of the fights before him. Words spill rapidly from his mouth, but Taehyun can’t bring himself to tune in; his bright platinum hair is glowing, even under the flickering lights, and the commentator’s names manages to slip through the walls of Taehyun’s concentration— Taeyong, with his co-commentator, Jeno.

It’s clear they’re here to do nothing more than build up tension, making useless comments that make the audience cheer or roar with disapproval. Taeyong is gesturing wildly, pointing to the fighter’s separate corners as he seems to be talking about them; Taehyun can feel the searing stares of the people around him.

Beomgyu stands across from him, his hair pulled back and his face gone dead as he stares at Taehyun— he doesn’t look away for a second. His hands are left at his sides, fingers clenching around his wraps as he tilts his head side to side; Taehyun hears the faint crack of his bones, even from where he stands. He frowns, beginning to feel antsy the longer the commentators take— from the corner of his eye, he sees Jin enter the ring, nodding to Taeyong and Jeno as they shake hands.

Taehyun takes a slow breath, jaw clenching as he feels his teeth bite into his mouth guard. He can feel his impatience growing the longer he stares at The Bear, watching as the man before him only smiles mischievously at him; he’s pacing around his side, eyes pinned to Taehyun as though he were a predator ready to strike.

The Bear’s eyes light up the moment the two commentators exit the ring.

Their voices still ring out through the speakers, spewing random things about the scene as Jin beckons the two to approach him.

“I want a clean, fair fight.” Jin begins, reaching out to clasp the two’s shoulders, “You know the rules. Protect yourself at all times, touch gloves if you want to.”

A beat passes as Jin glances at the two fighters— Taehyun does nothing; Beomgyu only grins at that.

Sighing, Jin backs away from the two, clapping his hands before he points back to their respective sides.

“Back to your corners,” Jin yells, huffing as he backs away, mumbling under his breath as he does so, “let’s get this over with.”

Taehyun’s hands come up instinctively, eyes narrowing as he waits for the familiar sound of the bell. Beomgyu does the same, his stance opening as an undeniable smile graces his lips; if Taehyun didn’t know better, he’d almost think this was nothing but a game to him.

His body tenses the moment the bell rings throughout the room, his mind racing as he watches Beomgyu begin to make his way to him.

Nothing happens at first; they circle each other, Taehyun’s feet pacing quickly around the cage as he waits for a good opening. The useless chatter of the commentators threatens to break his concentration, but he knows better than to pay attention to anything other than the man before him.

Beomgyu throws the first punch. A sharp jab is directed toward his head, but it doesn’t land as Taehyun sharply moves away. Everything changes in an instant; the moment Beomgyu puts his arm out is the moment Taehyun begins to look for a weakness. It’s a rapid flow of punches and dodges, the commentators making a fuss over everything as nothing connects properly.

Beomgyu’s punches are strong; Taehyun’s forearms ache at the impact, jumping back the moment Beomgyu attempts to land a kick— a liver shot, Taehyun realizes with a small smile.

The two boys are equally matched, and it isn’t long before the crowd catches onto that fact— suddenly the fight has become more interesting, and Taehyun can sense everyone’s eyes on them as he watches Beomgyu prep for another kick, the minuscule mistake of his rear hand coming down giving Taehyun the perfect opening.

Taehyun’s body twists violently, his right hand swinging around as he aims for Beomgyu’s head; the impact sends the crowd roaring.

He feels his fist come in contact with a wound from his previous fight, his brow splitting back open as Beomgyu winces at the feeling— he wobbles slightly from the shock, his eye squinting as blood begins to trickle down.

“You motherfucker,” Beomgyu’s lips read, snarling at Taehyun as his guard seems to be raised. His arms immediately come back up, protecting his head as another of Taehyun’s punches threatens to connect. With his body exposed, Taehyun is unable to stop the kick that shoots straight at him, at the same spot as before; He feels his vision blur for a second as his breath is knocked out of him.

Beomgyu is coming back for more as the last counts for the round are yelled out. Jabs and kicks are exchanged in rapid fire, and it’s all lost in a blur of motion as the two attempt to weaken the other— the bell rings, signaling the end of the round.

Back in his corner, Taehyun is surprised to find that Beomgyu has no coach. He’s just like him, forced to tend to his wounds and think of a new strategy on his own; Taehyun is surprised The Bear was able to land such strong hits with his vision impaired so badly.

Beomgyu is a ruthless fighter; he has technique and experience, and it seems that all mercy will fly out the window the moment he catches his opponent in a vulnerable spot— Taehyun just needs to make sure to not give him the opportunity.

“Ready?” Jin’s strong yell breaks through both of the fighter’s minds, and it isn’t long before Taehyun finds himself back in the center of the ring, adjusting his mouthpiece as he doesn’t bother paying attention to Jin’s rambles.

“Knock ‘em out Bear, get this over with,” it’s the only thing that catches Taehyun’s attention, the sharp glare he sends to Jin doing nothing as he’s told to go back to his corner— though he doesn’t miss the smug look that Beomgyu sends him.

The new round is immediate; there’s a fire in Taehyun’s eyes, his body pumping with adrenaline as he immediately approaches Beomgyu, unsurprised to find that he does the same. His breathing is slightly labored as the exhaustion from the last round seems to be catching up to him, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling deter him as Beomgyu attempts to deliver another kick; Taehyun counters it with one of his own.

Nothing seems to land properly; it’s beginning to frustrate Taehyun, but he knows not to let the feeling linger too long— he’s found himself cornered, and it isn’t long before he’s wrapped up in a clinch; The Bear’s limbs constrict his, tightening around him as he attempts to wrestle him to the ground, his punches directing jabs to his ribs and face— one connects roughly against his nose, and he can already feel the familiar liquid dripping out. It’s painful, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling overwhelm him as he tries to break the other’s hold on him.

Though he finds himself on the floor, he’s able to break away from The Bear’s grapple, shaking himself off as he backs away, attempting to reassess the situation before him.

Something shifts in his opponent.

Time is running out in the round, and they both seem to realize this as punches are delivered in a more rapid fire. Taehyun hates to think it, but The Bear’s technique is good as his hits begin to fly before him, struggling to keep up as he delivers a few of his own.

One lands against the side of Beomgyu’s head; it manages to break his concentration, the hook breaking through him as it connects harshly to the man’s jaw. Taehyun can already feel his body moving before he realizes, his body seemingly moving on its own like instinct. Beomgyu manages to get a jab of his own, but it does nothing against the next punch that has him stumbling back, his vision spinning as Taehyun continues to go after him, preparing for one final move.

A roundhouse kick— straight to his liver, stunning the man as he feels his body begin to scream at him from the impact, leaving Taehyun stumbling from his horrible footing. He’s only able to get a few more punches out before Beomgyu’s falling, the referee screaming at Taehyun to back away from him the moment he falls back.

Adrenaline fills Taehyun’s body the moment he processes everything.

The crowd roars at the spectacle; Taehyun doesn’t realize what he’s doing as he roams before Beomgyu— his wounds sting and his skin is red and bruised as he grins, teeth gritting against his mouthpiece as he smiles, not bothering to wipe away the blood that drips down from his wounds— the cage is stained with it, a mark of his territory as adrenaline courses through his veins; his eyes scan over the crowd, filled with people who were set on him losing— he can only laugh at the sight.

“Get up,” Jin yells at Beomgyu, attempting to break through the noise as he pats his cheek, “can you get up?”

Beomgyu’s nod is slow and defeated. He’s sitting up and leaning against the cage as the bell tolls like a deadly gong around him. Peering through his heavy lids, he sees Taehyun’s celebration, in a condition no better than his as he’s stumbling to the center to meet Jin.

“Impressive,” Jin admits quietly, and just like he’s seen before, his hand is thrust up as the audience cheers wildly, the proud grin taking energy from Taehyun as his posture slouches slightly.

Despite looking down at him, Jin looks surprised— impressed, even. The thought makes Taehyun smile as he tilts his head back, squinting at the bright lights that are hot on his skin, a long exhale leaving him as he laughs once more; he was just getting started.

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s head feels as though it’s been split open; he doesn’t really remember what happened after his win.

He can’t bring himself to move, a deep sigh escaping him as he winces at the bright lights above him; the cot he lays on is stiff, the uncomfortable paper beneath him crinkling as he attempts to get slightly comfortable— his face is stiff with bandages.

Another fight seems to be going on outside; the annoying ramblings of the commentators seem to seep into where he is. Taehyun is too tired to linger around, so he attempts to put the last of his energy into sitting up properly— his thoughts are interrupted by the loud footsteps that approach the room.

“Beomgyu!” The voice is angry, growling with frustration as the door swings open. Taehyun attempts to look up at the sound, but it’s futile as the curtain around his cot obscures his view.

“Beomgyu, you fucker!” Taehyun winces— his head is throbbing at the intrusion, and his eyes shut tightly in hopes that the newcomer will shut up soon. “You little snake, you’re dead meat!”

“Can you please quiet down?” The voice that was once taunting and dripping with confidence is now gruff and tired— Taehyun can recognize that voice anywhere, and suddenly, his urge to leave is only amplified.

“Jesus, I don’t get why you always come here screaming like that,” Beomgyu says, exhaustion sowed in his voice, “It’s not like it’ll change anything.”

“Fuck! Look at you!” The woman pushes past all his irritated comments, and Taehyun hears both protests from Beomgyu and the crinkling of paper, “I can’t believe you, how the hell am I gonna explain this to your mother? You know she hates it when you sneak over here!”

“Chill with that, I can handle myself just fine,” Beomgyu scoffs, “You should be more worried about the other guy, anyway— gave him a good beating.”

Taehyun scoffs at that.

“The other guy?” The woman says, and before Taehyun can prepare himself, he hears footsteps approaching where he lays— the curtain is ripped away without warning, and Taehyun hisses at the lights that shine in his eyes.

“Holy shit!”

He’s not sure if he should be offended by that, but Taehyun keeps his eyes shut in hopes that the woman will simply turn her attention back to Beomgyu; he’s surprised to feel her approaching him more.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, observing Taehyun as though he were a spectacle; Taehyun takes a deep breath, hoping that his patience doesn’t run out soon, “Beomgyu, you prick!”

“Hey,” Taehyun grumbles, brows twitching in frustration as he screws his eyes shut, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream in my ear.”

“Oh shit,” The woman jumps back at his words— almost as though she hadn’t expected him to be awake. One look at his angry expression has her quieting down, whispering a soft apology before she’s turning back to Beomgyu.

“You little snake,” she hisses, whispering angrily as she crosses her arms on her chest angrily, “you were supposed to come help unload the delivery today! You were the only strong one available that day, so imagine your mother’s surprise when you’re nowhere in sight!”

Peeking through his lids, Taehyun is able to catch a glimpse of the woman stomping over to Beomgyu, slapping his arm roughly as he yelps in response; the sight is almost amusing.

“I had to lie my ass off and say you were fucking studying!” Another rough smack is delivered to his arm, as though her mentioning the incident brings back pure rage, “Of course she didn’t believe me at first! So I volunteered to do it myself! My arms are so sore, you fucker!”

“Don’t seem sore to me,” Beomgyu grumbles, rubbing his bicep as he scoots away from the violent woman. “I’ll make it up to you, ___. I promise.”

The woman, ___, only shakes her head in disappointment. Turning back around, she stalks her way back to Taehyun.

“Sorry about his recklessness,” she says, and Taehyun’s eyes only widen as she bows in apology— he sits up, wincing as he awkwardly attempts to shake her off. Standing straight, she huffs, hands folded neatly in front of her as she sends him a polite smile.

“___,” she introduces, fishing in her pocket for something; a business card, he realizes. “Feel free to stop by for a meal— on the house. I promise we don’t condone that one’s behavior,” Beomgyu quietly dismisses her, saying that he’s not that different from me; his words don’t seem to reach her.

The card is cool and smooth in his fingers, and Taehyun nods softly as he watches her bow again; then she’s walking back to Beomgyu, sending him a sickly sweet smile as she leans in.

“Two hours. You better be back for the dinner rush. Or else,” wordlessly, she brings up a fist, slamming it into her open palm in a clear threat. Beomgyu gulps, the action not as subtle as he wished as he nods nervously. Straightening up, she smiles, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair before she leaves— it isn’t until then that Beomgyu clears his throat, calling after her hurriedly.

“Hey,” He yells, pointing at her accusingly— yet she doesn’t turn back around once, his words falling on deaf ears as they watch her retreat, “Stop giving out free meals like that, you’ll go broke doing this shit!”

Swiftly, she flicks him off.

Then, she’s gone.

Taehyun has to stifle a laugh as Beomgyu huffs in bewilderment, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide it the moment Beomgyu sends him a killer glare. From the corner of his eye, Beomgyu runs his hand through his hair desperately, cursing quietly to himself as he stares at the doorway, then glances back up at the clock— it’s silent save for the quiet mutterings of the man next to him.

The door opens again, and Jin walks inside.

“___ just left?” He asks, leaning against the doorway as he looks expectantly at Beomgyu; he nods, a frustrated look on his face at the very mention of the woman. Jin groans, shaking his head as he lets out a deep sigh.

“Damn. I promised Jungkook I’d try to make her stay a while.” Beomgyu sneers at that, throwing his pillow at the referee as Jin dodges it with ease, a squeaky laugh escaping him before he throws it back at the younger man.

“Tell him to go find her at that damn restaurant if he’s so interested,” Beomgyu snarls, rolling his eyes at Jin’s amused reaction. Laying back down, he pulls the curtains back around his cot, his voice muffled as he calls out, “And you better not be thinking about going for that free meal, newbie.”

It becomes Taehyun’s turn to sneer.

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu is dead meat.

It’s the only thought that runs through your mind, glaring at the cutting board beneath you as vegetables fly through your hands. All the background noise dies as you allow yourself to think, glancing back at the clock in hopes that the next hour will pass by quickly.

You’re not sure what led him to involve himself so deeply in that strange underground MMA club. It was dangerous and untrustworthy— you and his mother made sure to drill that into his head the first time you caught him messing around.

Even so, it seems as though your efforts only fall short in the end. No matter how much you team up with his mother, telling him that he should consider taking up the business in the future, or god forbid, actually focus on college, it always ends up in him shrugging you off dumbly, or waving you off as he tells you not to worry— he knows what he’s doing.

You’re on autopilot as you sift through the countless orders, the small open layout of the kitchen allowing you to peek at the entrance from time to time—all in false hopes of seeing the young boy you always pestered.

Two years isn’t much of a difference, but god, Beomgyu made it feel like it was sometimes. Most of the time you felt more like an older sister than an employee at his mother’s restaurant— it wasn’t your fault the man was quite the nuisance, your schedule becoming much more consistent and forcing you to see him practically all the time, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself wrapped up in the Choi family's personal lives.

Five minutes. You think to yourself, gritting your teeth as the next hour passes, you’ll give him five more minutes.

The next five minutes pass seamlessly.

Honestly, was two hours not enough? You get that Beomgyu was very particular about his appearance despite his interest, but two hours was more than enough for a person to patch themselves up and come back home. You attempted to not let your frustration show, averting your eyes the moment Ms. Choi appears in your peripheral vision, mumbling in curiosity about where her son might be.

Another five minutes pass— then, thirty. The restaurant is beginning to fill up as it always does, and you’re trying to hone your concentration in hopes that your undying rage won’t seep through your face. The sound of the bell ringing breaks through your thoughts, and you look up automatically to greet the new customer.

Your grip on your knife tightens.

“He—“ Ms. Choi gulps, her jaw dropping at the sight as she turns frantically to you. Taking in your expression she sighs, exasperated as she rubs at her face in frustration. “He wasn’t studying, was he?”

Making eye contact with Beomgyu, you allow your muscle memory to take over, cutting through the vegetables effortlessly as you grit your teeth, not looking away from him for a second.

“No ma’am.”

His mother is speechless as she scoffs in frustration, cursing at her son under her breath before she’s taking off her apron— you don’t bother glancing back at the younger boy as you turn back to your cooking, the sounds of the Choi’s hushed bickering reaching your ears as they go to the back.

It takes a while before Beomgyu emerges, patched up and pouting as walks up behind you.

“Where do you want me,” he says, petulant with his tone as he glances at the workers around him; they barely spare him a glance, all too used to his behaviors as they focus on their orders instead. You hum in thought, looking up from your stove as you survey the area— like always, Beomgyu has managed to sneak in toward the end of the rush hour; it’s not like you’re short-staffed in the kitchen, either.

“Go bus tables,” you say, rolling your eyes at the way Beomgyu whines at your words. He’s as annoying as ever, pulling at your sleeves in an attempt to get your attention as you refuse to look at him; shrugging him off, you hear him groan behind you.

“You never let me help in the kitchen,” he protests, and it takes all the strength within you to not turn around and smack him.

“If you arrived an hour earlier, you would’ve,” you hiss, waving him off, you walk past him as he opens his mouth to protest more, “get to work.”

His mumbles and whines still reach your ears as he exits the kitchen— and it only takes one sharp glare from you to shut him up. For the rest of your shift, all you can think is how spoiled this boy remains— he doesn’t know how lucky he is, watching as his mother finally grows soft on him, shooing him back to their home to rest as he meekly nods at her words, putting an act of weakness as he immediately leaves his position— but the smug smile he adorns as he hangs up his apron doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Sighing, you glance back at the clock— two more hours, then you close.

⊹⊹⊹

“You’re still here?”

You refuse to respond to that— instead, you grit your teeth, scrubbing at a stain on the bar as you continue to pre-close. Beomgyu sighs, sitting at the bar as he leans on the counter, seemingly paying no mind to the damp wood that comes in contact with his sleeves. He’s desperate to get your attention, calling your name out softly as you continue to ignore him.

“Are you closing today? Why is it just you?”

“Sent everyone home. They helped enough.”

If the place remained as empty as it is now, the only thing you would need to do is clean the floors and machines— which takes little to no effort for you. Beomgyu shakes his head at your words, sitting up straight as he folds his hands in his lap.

“I’ll help,” his words are immediately met with a scoff from you, his brows furrowing as he watches you shake your head in amusement— you only laugh more as he softly questions why you’re laughing.

“Help?” You say, tilting your head as you finally look at him. Throwing the wet towel on the counter, you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a step back.

“I asked for your help— three hours ago. Yet you still chose to be a brat and go back upstairs the moment your mother pitied you. You—“ cutting yourself off, you sigh, shaking your head before you’re picking the wet towel back off, turning your back to him, “I hope you realize how much she spoils you.”

A twinge of embarrassment threatens to consume you due to your outburst, for the silence that follows after is entirely unexpected— usually, Beomgyu never knows when to shut his mouth. Then again, he never really knew what to say when the topic of his parent arose; he was afraid of saying something insensitive to you, you suppose.

Yet you refuse to be the one to cave in— you refuse to even make eye contact with him, walking out of the kitchen area as you go to wipe down tables; it’s then that the small bell above the restaurant door rings.

Mentally, you sigh— there was less than an hour left; nevertheless, you plaster on a cheery smile, straightening as you glance behind you and to the new customer; stiffening, you wince as you try to not let your surprise show through.

“Welcome,” you grit out, meeting eyes with the same man Beomgyu had beaten to a pulp a couple of hours ago— yet he seems perfectly fine, patched up and unphased as he sends you a somber nod, your worries that he’d be another bitter fighter that tracked Beomgyu down dispelled.

“You—!” Beomgyu is back to his awfully rambunctious self in a split second, twisted around in his seat as he sends the man by the entrance a sour look. “I told you not to come here!”

Taehyun pays no mind to the dirty looks Beomgyu sends him— if anything, he smiles, ever so casual in his demeanor as he goes to sit down; next to Beomgyu, of course.

“This place any good?” He asks, his voice gruff as he leans into Beomgyu cheekily, “you seem really eager to keep it hidden.”

“You kidding? You’re at the hottest spot in town,” Beomgyu scoffs, puffing his chest out as he leers at Taehyun “I doubt you’ve never heard of this place.”

Their conversation becomes nothing but a muffled mess to you. Their tension is unending as they converse, their eyes filled with a fire that suggests that they might just forget about the food and fight here and now— which is why you step in, not wanting to clean up after any more messes as you take Taehyun’s order.

At some point, you find yourself tuning back into their conversation— their rivalry is ridiculous, the tension rolling off in waves as you take a breath; Turning around, you go to place Taehyun’s order in front of him, reluctant to meet his eyes as you go to leave.

“Hope I didn’t scare you off today,” Beomgyu goads, ever the instigator as he rests his chin in his hand cheekily, “but then again, you did ask for it.”

Taehyun scoffs— it’s enough for you to turn back around, watching from afar in fear that Beomgyu will try to take things too far.

“Don’t act like you left the ring all perfect,” Taehyun tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects Beomgyu, “Remind me, who was it that won?”

You bite back a laugh at that, surprised to hear the results of the fight— it’s easy to do when Beomgyu is sitting up, a clear fire lighting in his eyes as he leans closer to Taehyun; his food remains untouched. You’re tense, watching carefully and waiting for a switch to flip inside Beomgyu; the last thing you want is for his mother to come down and find him in the middle of another fight.

Instead, Beomgyu smiles; it’s a small twitch of his lips at first, his mind clearly telling him to fight it off before it overtakes him, a bewildered laugh escaping him before he’s clapping Taehyun on the shoulder, the action so rough and sudden that Taehyun is flinching from his touch. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, lost in his thoughts as he continues to laugh— you’re unsure if he’s getting ready to throw a punch or not.

“You…” Beomgyu grins, letting go of Taehyun with a sigh. He shakes his head, huffing in amusement before he continues, “I like you, you’ve got ambition.”

“The ring’s closed tomorrow, but it’s available for training. I’ve been needing a new sparring partner,” Beomgyu trails off, and Taehyun is quick to catch on as he frowns.

“Tomorrow?” Beomgyu nods in confirmation. It’s silent, and you’re making your way back to them as Taehyun seems to ponder it.

“You won’t be free tomorrow Beomgyu,” you say, grabbing his attention as you send him a warning smile, “You’re helping with a catering order, remember?”

Beomgyu, shameless like always, only tilts his head in innocence.

“Really? I don’t recall you telling me about it,” Beomgyu ponders, pouting slightly as you glare at him, “plus, I was told you would be fully staffed tomorrow— if anything, I remember my mother suggesting you give some people a day off.”

You have no patience to deal with his sly ways— your jaw clenches as you suppress the urge to jump at him from across the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise a brow in disbelief.

“If you need help, you could always keep those people on standby,” you’re unsure of what annoys you more— Beomgyu’s smug look, or Taehyun, who has finally decided to eat his food as he watches the two of you, clearly amused by what’s happening before him as he doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile.

“Good idea,” you grit out, leaning toward the younger man as you smile, “I should let your mother know you’ll be out tomorrow then; I’m sure she’ll be wondering where you went off to.”

“You know, for a mere worker, you sure are involved in our personal lives.” Beomgyu’s words are hissed out and sting like acid as your eyes widen, gritting your teeth together as you watch Beomgyu sit back in realization— as though he didn’t know what he said until now.

“You’re right. Sorry,” you say, a gritted smile on your face as you go to fetch a takeout container; returning, you place it in front of Taehyun, ignoring his curious gaze as you send him a patient smile.

“We closed fifteen minutes ago; sorry, but you can take the food with you if you’d like— on me. I’ll be back, if you need anything let him know,” jerking your head to Beomgyu, you ignore his attempts to call your attention back to him as you bow politely, quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom in a weak attempt to soothe your hurt and anger.

The restaurant is quiet save for the soft ticking of a clock that hangs above them; a sound of warning as Taehyun glances subtly at the man next to him— whether Beomgyu picks up on it or not is beyond him. He’s frowning, bottom lip chewed and tugged at as he stares at the doorway which you disappeared through, a hand running repeatedly through his hair as he lets out a soft curse.

“What was that about?” Taehyun asks— whether or not he’s crossing a boundary, he’s unsure— but he does know that he truly doesn’t care enough to gauge the older man’s reaction. He’s quick to finish his food, surprised by the quality of it as he peeks at Beomgyu from the corner of his eye; watching the way Beomgyu seems to ponder whether or not to talk, inevitably giving in as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“I fucked up. Said something I shouldn’t have,” standing up, Beomgyu slides the stool he sat on back in, shaking his head as he goes to turn off the blaring open sign— he’s quiet, lost in thought as he carries out the usual closing duties.

“My offer is still open, by the way,” Beomgyu calls out, and before Taehyun can say anything, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I doubt she’ll wanna see me tomorrow.”

Taehyun says nothing. Beomgyu doesn’t bother trying to convince him, muttering out a tired one p.m under his breath, unable to help the way his eyes travel back to the hallway you disappeared to now and then— it isn’t long before Taehyun is bidding goodbye, the offer left out in the open as Beomgyu is forced to sit with his own thoughts, ignoring the way his muscles ache or his wounds throb whenever he performs a certain task.

It takes a while before you come back out— you refuse to look at Beomgyu as the two of you clean in silence, your face left blank and cold as Beomgyu fails to decipher what you might be thinking; even though he wishes nothing more than to take back what he said, he finds his words stuck in his throat every time he looks at you.

You don’t bother saying goodbye when you leave.

⊹⊹⊹

“Were you lying when you said you’ve been in the cage before?”

Taehyun rolls his eyes at the older man's words, a scoff escaping him as he chooses not to answer. Beomgyu watches with amusement as the man before him looks away, neck tilting side to side as he feels it crack with ease. The air is hot and there isn’t much light coming in from the small windows atop the room, cracked open to let the cool wintry air inside. Yet it doesn’t seem to help a lot, the two men in the cage weathered down and sweaty from hours of sparring.

“You’re quite annoying, you know,” Taehyun grumbles, wiping away his sweat before he begins to stretch, preparing for another round as he looks back to Beomgyu— he seems unfazed by his comment, a smug grin overtaking him as he mimics his stretching.

“So I’ve been told,” Beomgyu pouts, straightening up as he waits for Taehyun to approach, “how long have you been doing this?”

Beomgyu has his own guesses as Taehyun throws a careless jab— he’s tired, not putting any effort into his movements as he dodges Beomgyu’s own hits with ease.

“Little over two years. It’s been nothing but a hobby until recently though,” Taehyun admits, stepping back as he puts his arms down, “didn’t know this place was a thing.”

“It’s been running for four years, actually,” Beomgyu says, sighing as he lowers his guard as well; he takes this time to rest, feeling the way his body is beginning to ache from the activity, “Jin and a couple others started it for fun. It’s only recently that things turned serious.”

Taehyun thinks of the referee— and his clear bias with Beomgyu— and frowns, realizing that the very same man he met yesterday was the owner of the building. Shaking his head, he sighs— then jumps back at the unexpected jab Beomgyu sends to him in warning.

He has no time to complain; his arms immediately come up for defense as Beomgyu seems to have regained his energy, a mischievous smile plastered on his face as he lands a hook on Taehyun— he groans at the feeling, stumbling back as he attempts to regain his composure.

Before he can regain stability, he’s pulled into another clinch— Beomgyu’s got him good, unable to keep his balance as Beomgyu pulls him into a tight chokehold; He’s trapped, unable to get away as he’s forced to tap out.

“You know, I’ve noticed quite a few things about the way you fight,” Beomgyu says, ignoring the way Taehyun gives him a pointed glare, “you give all your energy in the first round— you need to be able to conserve your energy, you know.”

Though all Taehyun does is roll his eyes, he secretly takes note of the older man’s comment; he noticed Beomgyu had been giving him pointers the entire time, and he would be a fool to not take advice from the club’s toughest fighter— Taehyun’s pride could only stretch so far.

Silently, they decide to take a break; there was no use in practicing if neither of them had the energy to throw a proper punch. Exiting the cage, Taehyun lets out a groan as he immediately takes a seat at one of the benches before him— annoyingly, his water bottle is empty again, and he’s forced to trudge to the only water fountain in the building that’s been placed all the way by the entrance; he grimaces at the thought of having to drink water from such a rusty old thing, but the dehydrated scratch of his throat isn’t giving him much of an option.

Taehyun isn’t too phased when the doors slam open; there have been a few other fighters that have come in while they were sparring, so he figures this must be another regular as he keeps his eyes on the water fountain— it isn’t until he hears haste footsteps and lows cursing that he looks up in curiosity.

“Of course he would be here,” you’re as irritated as always as you push past Taehyun without much more of a glance, your brows knitted together in annoyance as you make a beeline to the cage— Taehyun gets the privilege of getting front seats to the scene as he leans back in amusement, taking a sip of his cool water before grimacing at the taste.

“Hey!” You yell, jumping up on the outskirts of the cage and glaring at Beomgyu, who has the audacity to look up at you with puppy eyes as he lays spread out in the center of the ring, “do you always have to be here? Why don’t you go do normal things for once?”

Taehyun can hear you grumbling something about the long drive and shady district, but it’s left an unintelligible mess as he watches Beomgyu sit up, wincing slightly in the process.

“You knew I was gonna be here,” is all he says, ticking his head side to side as loud cracks ring throughout the empty building, “plus you’re acting like you couldn’t have called.”

You can’t seem to control the bewildered laugh that escapes you at his words, eyes widening as you jump back down from your place; crossing your arms, you sit down at a bench, jaw clenched as you shoot Beomgyu a lethal glare.

“You think I didn’t try?” You ask, crossing your legs as you tap at your bicep in annoyance, “your phone is always in the damn locker room!”

“Alright, whatever!” Beomgyu says, throwing his hands up in defeat, “what do you need now.”

“Two of our workers called off. Your mother wants you to come back and help with the catering order,” you say, your gaze cold as you watch Beomgyu begin to whine at you, giving you excuses that you don’t bother to listen to as you shake your head.

“Listen to your mother and go. Quick,” you say, not wanting to linger any longer as you stand up, leaving without so much as a goodbye as you’re rushing back out again.

“Yeah, listen to your mother,” Taehyun teases, raising a brow as you snap your head towards him, delivering a cold glare that only makes Taehyun grin, much to your annoyance; he can hear you muttering curses under your breath as you slam the doors open, the sound of your rambling only amusing Taehyun further as he makes his way back to Beomgyu.

“Crazy how you let yourself get pushed around like that,” Taehyun knows he’s only instigating, but it’s amusing to watch the older man get worked up as he simply huffs in annoyance, cursing under his breath in the same manner you did— he can see where Beomgyu gets his short temper from.

“I don’t.” he snaps, but the way he’s already beginning to pack up says otherwise; there’s defeat in all his actions as he becomes sluggish, trudging to the locker room where he reluctantly begins to change, “come back here tomorrow, same time— I need to show you something.”

Beomgyu leaves shortly afterward— the annoyance in his mood has yet to go away as he glances back at the ring one last time, watching solemnly as Taehyun continues to shadow box without him. For a second, he almost considers dropping his responsibilities and going for another round, but your fiery and threatening voice echoes in his head, allowing him to finally leave as a shiver goes through his body.

⊹⊹⊹

“Stupid workers… making me clean up after their mess…” Beomgyu thinks he might go insane if he has to pack another to-go tray filled with the same order, his mind fried and his hands on auto-pilot as he watches you busily cook out of the corner of his eye. You’re as stone-cold and intimidating as always, sending Beomgyu a sharp glare every time you catch him slacking off— it’s eerie, the way you can almost sense it, never giving Beomgyu a break as you stress the fact that you need to have the order done by the next thirty minutes.

He’s almost done, so he doesn’t feel as rushed as you do— then again, you may just be on edge due to the fact that you’ve been pulling the weight of the two workers that called off as well as your regular tasks; the sight is enough to have Beomgyu irritated once more.

You work way too hard for your own good; it’s a fact that Beomgyu always calls you out on, but you’re always just as quick to dismiss it as you shake your head in denial, telling him that he’s overreacting. Yet, as he watches you now, stressed and irritated, he can practically feel himself biting his tongue to prevent calling you out on it.

The catering order is finished with ease; Beomgyu can feel a weight lift off him the moment a delivery person takes the order from him— the same can be said for you— and he’s almost ready to leave when his eyes catch sight of a new patron that walks in.

The place has calmed down a bit, so it’s relatively empty— meaning, there should be no reason for Beomgyu to linger around anymore. Yet, he can’t help but be nosy and stay as he watches Jungkook beeline towards you, confident and handsome as always as he sends you a beaming smile.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” you remark sarcastically, leaning against the bar counter as you match Jungkook’s mischievous grin, “the usual?”

“You know me so well,” Jungkook coos, and the exchange is enough to have Beomgyu straightening up— he’s never seen Jungkook at the restaurant before, let alone the two of you talking so casually to each other.

Neither of you seem to catch Beomgyu’s analytic stare, much too caught up in your own world to notice anything around you; even the new customer that comes in through the door, trudging over to the bar as he sits a few seats away from Jungkook— Beomgyu is the first to notice as he quickly makes his way over.

“The hell are you doing here?”

The smile Taehyun sends is pure evil as he leans on the bar, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he raises a brow at Beomgyu’s pointed question.

“Here to eat, what else?” Beomgyu says nothing in response, his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he takes Taehyun’s order, “and if you’re done eavesdropping on their conversations over there, I’d like to know what you were talking about earlier— I’m not exactly free tomorrow.”

The man’s words are enough to have Beomgyu standing straight, sending Taehyun a glare as he grits his teeth at the comment. “Am not.”

“Come on, be slick about it at least,” Taehyun sighs, eyeing the two of you from the corner of his eye, watching as you continue to converse with the customer— it takes a moment, but Taehyun is able to recognize the patron as he looks back at Beomgyu, pointing their way as he asks, “the hell is the bartender from the club doing here?”

“That’s Jungkook,” Beomgyu mutters, putting his notepad away as stops to watch the two of you carefully for a second, “and that’s what I’m wondering myself. It’s clearly not to eat.”

“Yeah, who gives a fuck,” Taehyun grumbles, watching as Beomgyu reaches in his pocket for a piece of paper— pausing, he takes a second to examine Beomgyu, biting his lip as he fights back a smile, “hey, you jealous?”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu groans, rolling his eyes as he turns his back to you, jaw clenched as he narrows his eyes at Taehyun, who’s only left smiling in return, “she’s basically family, don’t even assume shit.”

“Not what you said last time I was here,” Taehyun’s words have Beomgyu pausing entirely, forced to take a second to breathe as he takes in the younger man before him.

“You’re an instigating little bitch, huh?” Is all Beomgyu can utter, watching as Taehyun simply laughs at his words, clearly unaffected by Beomgyu’s anger, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna stay in here.”

“Alright, do your thing,” Taehyun sighs, putting his hands up in defeat. A moment passes, and Taehyun huffs out a laugh, his eyes falling to the piece of paper Beomgyu pushes forward before he continues, “This better be good.”

Beomgyu watches as Taehyun begins to scan the paper, turning away so he can put the younger’s order in as he does. Once finished, he pauses, leaning against the wall as he waits for Taehyun to finish—Taehyun can practically feel the said man’s stare burn into his skin as he reads the information carefully, eyes widening as takes it all in; looking up, he finds Beomgyu’s eyes effortlessly.

Folding the paper back up carefully, Beomgyu makes his way back over, surprised you haven’t swooped in and asked what’s going on yet; hurriedly, he gets tries to get his point across, leaning in close to Taehyun and sending him an excited smile as he watches Taehyun open his mouth to ask questions immediately.

“How did you find this?” He asks, searching Beomgyu’s eyes as he watches the older man take the flier back, running his fingers over the creases in an absentminded attempt to smooth them out, “who gave you this?”

“Old friend of mine.” Beomgyu says, leaning back as he watches Taehyun do the same, crossing his arms as he watches Beomgyu with scrutinized eyes, “thought you’d be interested in this.”

“You’re inviting me? Letting me in on this?” Taehyun asks, frown only deepening as Beomgyu nods innocently, “what makes you think I won’t just win the tournament and take the prize money for myself?”

“That is a possibility,” Beomgyu hums, “but that’s also what makes it fun.”

“The hell is this? FightX?” Beomgyu can’t help the way he jumps as you appear behind him, looking over him as you reach to grab the flier from his hands. Beomgyu, in a weak attempt to distract you, attempts to call Jungkook over, trying to snatch the flier back while doing so; his attempts fail miserably as he watches the way your eyes grow wide.

“Are you kidding me?” You say, taking the flier and tucking it away in your own pocket smoothly. Beomgyu only sighs, used to your antics as Taehyun can only watch with an amused look in his eyes, ever as eager to poke the bear as he finds your anger intriguing.

“Beomgyu, I swear to god that if I see or hear anything about you in that FightX club, I’ll kill you myself.” Your hands are tense as you cross them over your chest, giving Beomgyu a pointed glare as you continue, “I don’t care about you going to Seokjin’s little place— but if you even try to go to that tournament—”

“Hey, relax, won’t you? You wouldn’t even know what goes on in a place like that,” Taehyun’s words are enough to have your eyes widening, mouth parting in surprise as you slowly turn to the man; beside you, Beomgyu shakes his head in warning, sending Taehyun a warning glare as he mouths the words shut the fuck up.

“What did you just say to me?” You ask incredually, leaning forward and against the counter as you examine Taehyun carefully; the man is nothing more than amused as he smiles innocently at you, standing his ground as he tilts his head like a puppy, “who are you, anyway?”

“Someone who knows way more about what goes on in that club than you,” he says softly, a tired tsk leaving him as he takes in the twitch of your brows, watching the way you try to keep your expression neutral, “you don’t need to worry about what Beomgyu does in his personal time.”

You’re left speechless as you press your tongue against your cheek, huffing out a bewildered laugh as you take a step back; glancing at Beomgyu, you narrow your eyes at him, watching as he simply attempts to diffuse the situation with stuttered excuses and a nervous laugh, his behavior changing drastically under your heated gaze.

“I warned you.” is all you say, not bothering to regard Taehyun at all as glare at Beomgyu, turning on your heel as you hear a coworker call your name for your help.

“What the hell man?” Beomgyu whispers, turning to Taehyun with wide eyes; the man simply shrugs, unphased by the tension as he sighs tiredly. Mind muddled with everything that just happened, he’s quick to find himself untying his apron; he’s done what you’ve asked, and he doubts that you’ll be able to force him to stick around now— especially after the confrontation you just had.

“FightX? Yo, you’re not planning on going, are you?” Jungkook is slow to the scene as he takes a seat next to Taehyun, recognizing him as the new fighter from a while ago as he nods to him in greeting; turning to Beomgyu, he raises a brow as he waits for him to respond.

“I don’t know. The prize money’s no joke,” Beomgyu admits, holding onto his apron as he narrows his eyes at Jungkook, who’s only shaking his head in dismay.

“The prize money is like that for a good reason,” Jungkook warns, nudging Taehyun as he tells him to listen as well, “that place is dangerous. Both the fighters and the patrons are something else, and if you don’t have connections to the right people…”

The way Jungkook trails off is enough to give the two younger men a gist of what he means, the troubled look in his eyes disappearing as he watches you pass by— his signature smile is back as he pats Taehyun on the back, sending Beomgyu a look before he’s standing up, ready to go to where you’re at now.

“Use your brain for once and think this one through, yeah? And you,” Jungkook says, nudging Taehyun before he leaves, “stop putting our most valuable asset in danger.”

The way Jungkook goes to you is reminiscent of a puppy, the two men watching as he goes back to shamelessly flirt with you— you seem unphased, rolling your eyes as you try to hide your smile of amusement all the while.

“Think this through,” Taehyun chimes in, bringing Beomgyu’s attention back to him, “you seem to have connections— plus, I think it’d be fun.”

The offer becomes more tempting as Beomgyu recalls the prize money that comes along with the win, and Beomgyu is left with more uncertainty than expected as he thinks back to the warnings that came along with it.

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu hasn’t been home today.

He’s never home, really, so the fact should be no surprise to you. But there’s something about today that leaves you on edge, your leg bouncing under the table as you hide your unease with a shaky smile.

“You’re such a hard worker,” Beomgyu’s mother sighs, pouring you a cup of coffee as she makes her way back to where you sit at the dinner table, “I can’t thank you enough for what you do.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” you say, taking the warm mug from her, trying to hide your shaking hands as you cup the dish tightly, “For giving me this opportunity. For giving me a home.”

The Choi family was the only reason you were still alive and healthy; if it weren’t for them, you’d probably still be on the streets, dependent on the money that came from shady clubs filled with dangerous people.

That was the only reason you met Beomgyu— you had just finished a fight of your own as you stumbled out of the infirmary, barely patched up as they began the men’s lightweight division fights; you only wanted to stay and bet on the fight before you before you left with the rest of your earnings, curious as to how the match before you would end.

To say the crowd loved it was an understatement; they were sick people, and the moment they realized that one of the most experienced lightweight fighters was currently pitted against a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy, the betting pool practically tripled within seconds.

You‘ve never seen him before; it was clear to you that he was new within seconds of watching him in the cage, from his unsure missteps, to the way his arms didn’t come down from his head for a second, wide eyes watching carefully for any opening available.

He got beat and knocked out within minutes; the match had been more of a joke to those watching than an actual fight. His injuries were nothing to laugh at however, the cage floor littered with his blood as nurses rushed out of the infirmary for him, picking him up and carrying him away as the patrons around you remained unphased at the sight— you still remember wincing as you took in the state his opponent left him in.

It was a general consensus within the ring that those more experienced shouldn’t be too harsh on newbies— simply out of respect for one’s opponent. But respect didn’t exist in such a place— if anything, respect wasn’t even earned after countless grueling matches in a place like FightX; it didn’t matter if you were good, the only thing that mattered was the number of wins under your belt and how much cash you walked out of the place with— which is why the patrons of such a club knew better than to mess with you.

This was no place for a child, you remembered thinking to yourself, scoffing at the way people continued to berate and talk about the loser of the previous match. Rolling your eyes, you figured it was better to leave now than to stick around and have shady people try to strike up deals with you— wanting to become your manager, to move you further up the ladder, to share profits with you.

It usually wasn’t a problem for you to leave; if anything, regulars knew better than to get in your way after you’ve had your fill of fights— but it had been different that day, left to push your way through as a commotion began to form at the entrance.

“Woah, who the hell is this?” The speakers above you were booming with the commentator’s sneering remarks, the current fight before them no longer a priority as the screams of a woman tore through the crowd.

“Please, please tell me he’s here,” the ruckus was beginning to become more of a headache to you than anything, pushing through the heaps of people in an attempt to get past the dramatic scene and back home— “home” consisting of a random motel that was cheap enough for this week’s earnings— only to pause once you were able to take in the woman’s helpless state.

This was someone’s mother, you realize, raising a brow as you take in the way her eyes are wide with fear and worry, brimming with tears as she attempts to put on a brave front. The mocking commentary of the men continue to boom over the speakers as those around the older woman ignore her or tell her to get lost, not bothering to listen to her words as they immediately turned their backs to her.

The boy’s mother. You realize, taking a deep breath before you walk toward the woman, grabbing onto her bicep tightly in order to gain her attention. She seemed more than ready to brush off your grip and fight to stay, but upon taking in your solemn appearance, she paused, her mouth parting as she no-doubt became ready to ask the same question she had been asking everyone else.

“Your son is over here,” you sigh out, tugging her along wordlessly— at your claim, she quickly follows, asking endless questions that you can’t even seem to keep up with.

“Tall, scrawny, long hair?” You ask, glancing back at her to catch her nodding incredually, “around sixteen?”

Once again, she nods, her gesture only making you sigh once more as you ignore the pressing stares of those around you.

“Yeah, he’s this way,” you say, finally arriving at the infirmary as you’re left to scan all the cots around you; his mother seems to spot him first, exclaiming loudly before she leaves your side to run to him.

The sight is enough to have you clenching your jaw as you lean against the doorway, arms crossed defensively over your chest as you watch the boy’s mother cry and scold the barely conscious boy. It was clear she cared for him, and the sight was foreign to you as you found yourself frozen in one place, forcing yourself to spectate a scene that you knew you’d never experience for yourself.

You stuck around to help the woman take her son home, listening quietly as she turned to scold the boy, huffing once in a while as she observed the way you effortlessly helped him walk with an arm thrown over your shoulder— the patrons around you were wise enough to keep their comments to themselves as they flinched at the hard glares you gave them.

“Don’t come back here kid,” you remembered telling him, dropping him in the passenger’s seat of his mothers car, rolling your eyes as he incoherently attempted to argue with you, “this place is too dangerous for someone like you.”

“And you?” His mother’s words had been enough to snap you out of your dazed state; looking up, you had been surprised to see his mother staring at you with the same concern in her gaze, her head tilting as she scanned your bruised skin and tired face, “will you be alright here?”

Her concern had been unexpected— so much so that you couldn’t help the way you laughed softly at her words, shaking your head as you ignored the strangely warm feeling that bloomed within you from her concern.

“I know how to handle myself here,” you told her, jaw clenching as you watched the way she remained unconvinced. Slowly, you watched her reach in her jacket pockets, fishing around for something until she finally found it, a small ah, escaping her mouth before she finally offered you the object with polite hands; you stared at the business card she handed you, unsure of what to do until you finally accepted it after a pause.

“Thank you so much for your help today,” she says, bowing gratefully as she looks at you with a kind smile, “if you’re ever hungry, you can always stop by. On the house.”

The laminated card feels smooth under your fingers as you absentmindedly accept her offer, unsure of how to react to her kindness as she thanks you again; you try to ignore the way her eyes are coated with concern and pity, the emotions within you nothing but bitter as you watch her drive away.

Shoving her card into your jacket pocket, you sigh, turning on your heels and walking back to the cheap motel that you knew was too shady to stay at for too long. If you win another match tomorrow, you might be able to stay at the better motel just a few blocks over.

The thought was promising as you made your way back, your muscles aching and your stomach growling as you inevitably thought back to the free meal that boy’s mother promised you.

Maybe tomorrow, you thought, pulling the card back out of your pocket to examine it, you should treat yourself after tomorrow’s fight.

⊹⊹⊹

Your life had taken a surprising turn after that day— now you found yourself here, sitting in the home of the Choi family, welcomed as always and reformed of your ways of fighting— you only wish the same could be said for Beomgyu.

“So,” you say, clearing your throat as you try to get the nerves out of your tone, “Where’s Beomgyu at?”

“Oh,” she sighs, slumping down in the chair across from you as she takes a sip from her cup of coffee, “God, I don’t even know— he left really early today, didn’t even bother to let me know— he hasn’t been back since.”

The news was odd to you; it was late already, but Beomgyu wasn’t the type to be up in the mornings, much less make any plans. You took a second to process her words, nodding absentmindedly as you took another sip from your drink— the flier you took from him seems to be weighing your pocket down now more than ever.

He wouldn’t, the more forgiving part of you thought, he knows better than to go off to a place like that.

But the more skeptical part of you knew better; Beomgyu was always one to be swayed easily, and with that new sparring partner of his, your trust in him only seemed to dwindle more and more.

Taehyun had only proved himself to be a danger to Beomgyu— especially if he was so eager to get himself into a place like FightX.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the sound of a phone ringing echoed throughout the room; blinking wildly, you allow Ms. Choi to excuse herself as she leaves to answer the phone— you take this chance to take the flier out of your pocket, unfolding it carefully as your fingers smooth over the wrinkles.

Reading it carefully, your eyes widen, biting at your lip as you feel your heart beginning to beat faster.

It was tonight.

And it started two hours ago.

You don’t give much of an explanation to Ms. Choi as you’re standing abruptly, making your way to where she stands at the kitchen to say goodbye— you can see the confusion and concern swim in her eyes at your suddenness, but you hope that the bright, carefree smile you send her is enough to soothe her as you apologize for leaving early.

It’s scary how easy it is for you to make your way to that club— despite it being years since you last stepped inside, you can still feel instinct take over as you’re speeding off to the tournament.

If Beomgyu’s still alive by the time you get there, you’ll kill him yourself.

Clenching your jaw, you pray that there are no cops around as you speed through the empty streets, your only priority clouding your mind as you run past a few red lights.

And his little friend too.

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu’s body feels like it’s been set alight with anxiety.

He’s pacing around the locker room, attempting to control his breathing as he focuses on his next opponent; on his fighting style, on how to beat him.

He’s been in this position many times— it’s like second nature to him, only the new setting seems to be affecting him more than he expected. It’s not like he’s never branched out to other underground fighting tournaments before; he’s been all around the city and even outside of it, trusting Seokjin’s judgment as he made a name for himself through it— in a way, Seokjin had almost been like a manager to him.

But he hasn’t been here in years; six years, to be exact. He can still feel the danger that looms through these walls, feeling more trapped than anything as memories of his first match come to mind— a primal fear is prominent in every single one.

Beomgyu is much more different than he was six years ago— both in muscle and mentality, he knows how to handle himself in such a shady place. Yet, he can’t help but remember your warnings, his brows furrowing as he feels his heart pound a little harder against his chest.

“You overthinking things again?” Beomgyu’s spiraling train of thought is interrupted as he snaps his head over to the doorway, meeting eyes with Taehyun who sports a bright smile, much more relaxed and excited than he is.

“Can’t help it,” Beomgyu admits, sighing heavily as he turns to stretch instead, “new territory.”

“Thought you had connections to this place?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head as he listens to Beomgyu explain that while it is true, he still isn’t experienced with this club.

“Don’t think about it too much,” Taehyun says, making his way over as he sits at the bench near Beomgyu, “the bracket looks easy today.”

The plan was simple; make it to the end of the bracket, where Beomgyu and Taehyun would inevitably have to fight each other— the earnings would be split between the two after.

Just makes the odds of earning the prize money higher, Beomgyu had explained once Taehyun began questioning his motives, that way, both of us win, and get experience out of it.

The prize money was already so grand that even half of it seemed more than enough for Beomgyu— and of course, the thought of returning to such a place and finally winning a grand tournament was thrilling to Beomgyu.

The things he could do with the prize money were endless— he already had a few ideas in mind, thinking back to his hardworking mother and how much she struggled to raise him on her own while still managing her restaurant. Then he thought about you, of the hard times he gave you, knowing how much you feared him going through the same things you did, of turning to a life dependent on fighting and gambling.

“Hey hey, focus,” Beomgyu is blinking rapidly as Taehyun claps in front of his face, laughing at the way the older man managed to zone out once more, “you’re up in three minutes, you should prepare yourself.”

Beomgyu is nodding absentmindedly as he watches Taehyun exit, still feeling nerves creeping up his system as he wonders if this is all such a good idea; then his name is called, and the referee pops in to ask if he’s ready.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu finds himself saying, feeling as though he’s lost control of his body as he’s walking out of the dimly lit locker room, “lets go.”

⊹⊹⊹

“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while but— yeah, no need to remind me,” your voice is low and your footsteps are echoing as you walk through puddles, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as you weave your way through dark alley— the feeling is oddly reminiscent as you find yourself laughing along with your old friend on the phone.

“No, it’s serious stuff,” you sigh, turning the corner as you find the place you’ve been dreading to step inside of. A small shop meets you, the lights off and the gates closed around the windows— the unassuming shop makes your stomach churn with dread, approaching it slowly before you’re walking around its perimeter.

“You’ll never guess where I’m back at right now— yup, the very one,” your friend’s incredulous laugh booms over the line as you let out some bitter chuckles yourself, rounding towards the back as you see a deep, ominous stairwell; faintly, you can hear the brutish screams and commentary leaking through, the sound only beginning to worsen as time passes; the sound has a deep sigh leaving you as you begin the long descend into the basement.

“Listen, I need you and your men to be here on standby— I’m serious, you think I’d joke about this stuff?” You finally reach the bottom as you pause at the very last step, staring at the metal door that’s left at the end of the corridor.

“Thanks. I’ll call you if I need you to come in,” you say, bidding your goodbye before you’re finally hanging up, tucking your phone in your back pocket before you’re taking a final, deep breath.

Hopefully I won’t. You mutter, reaching forward before you’re finally opening the heavy, metal door.

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu feels dizzy.

The bracket looks easy today, Taehyun’s voice echoes in his head as he rests against the ring’s ropes, the layout different to what he’s used to as he takes a moment to recollect himself.

Easy— the fuck was Taehyun talking about? Beomgyu feels left out as he watches his opponent talk with his coach, discussing strategies and glancing back at Beomgyu, who’s left on his own as he takes the opportunity to stretch.

He just needed to beat the man across from him, then he was officially in the finals. The thought was the only thing that soothed him as he scanned the crowd for Taehyun, finally finding him right at the front; he was just as tired and beat as Beomgyu was, but the encouraging smile he sent Beomgyu managed to keep him on his feet a little longer— the prize money loomed over his head as he watched the referee call the next round, the fighter before Beomgyu gritting his teeth against his mouthpiece as his coach yelled at him to knock Beomgyu out.

His opponent became predictable fairly quickly— Beomgyu’s arms came up to his head for defense as the man attempted to jab at him, only to slide down to his sides and squeeze as his opponent attempted to land a hook to his side; at his liver, to be exact.

Chenle, Beomgyu remembers the commentators announce, his name was Chenle.

He looked to be around his age, if not younger. The man before him was energetic and strong, but seemed to get too excited during the rounds; it seemed as though he only came into the ring with one tactic in mind, and remained persistent to knock his opponent out in one specific way— it seemed he targeted Beomgyu with liver shots.

His punch was quite lethal— Beomgyu would know, because he fell victim to his attack in the first round. If anything, he still feels as though his mind is all muddled as he shifts away, avoiding the man’s attempt to get him cornered before he’s throwing a few quick punches himself.

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu is able to turn the match around, however. Chenle seems to be very poor in adapting to an opponent’s fighting style, and Beomgyu is quickly able to pull him into a chokehold that has him tapping out within seconds— without his hooks, Chenle was practically useless.

All this fighting had taken a toll on Beomgyu— he’s sure it showed as well, panting like a dog as the referee thrust his hand into the air, the commentators announcing him as the winner over the speakers: The Bear wins again.

Beomgyu could see why you attempted to dissuade him from going to such a place as he takes in everyone’s reactions— the good, the bad, and the dangerous. From the corner of his eye, he can see Chenle stumbling back to his coach, the two clearly bitter and angry as they whisper plans to each other— Beomgyu shivers involuntarily as their glares land on him, his gut telling him that they’re up to no good as the referee finally lets go of his wrist, quick to exit the ring and get as far from them as possible.

“Hey, we made it,” Taehyun grins, clapping Beomgyu on the shoulder as he laughs with joy— only to apologize as Beomgyu winces, his hand coming off in a second, “Our fight’s in thirty minutes, go rest and clean up— I don’t wanna have to go easy on you now.”

Absentmindedly, Beomgyu nods, ducking his head and making his way back to the locker room as he tries to ignore the stares of those around him— he can practically feel his body become alight with nerves by the time he’s back in the dark locker room, his heart pounding and his hands shaking as he begins to wonder if all your warnings have made him paranoid.

It must be the adrenaline, he thinks to himself, undoing his hand wraps and wincing as he stretches his cramped muscles, yeah. adrenaline.

He can’t help the way he groans as he makes his way to the bathroom area— all this fighting has taken a heavy toll on him, and he quickly finds that he’s already begun to sprout plenty of injuries and bruises as he finds his reflection in the mirror; his eyes remain downcast as he goes to wash his hands, sighing as the cool water splashes against his skin.

“I’m telling you, you were great!” Beomgyu can’t help but hear the conversation that begins to leak into the locker room, frowning at the way the second person begins to complain and yell angrily— the sound is enough to have Beomgyu on guard, straightening up slowly as he quickly turns the sink off.

“No, I wasn’t great— I fucking lost!” He jumps at the sound of something striking hard against the lockers— Beomgyu can feel his stomach sink with dread as he realizes that it must be Chenle that walked in— he’s able to recognize his voice fairly quickly.

“I know, I know— It’s odd, really, you weren’t supposed to have…” Beomgyu feels like he’s unable to breathe as the manager walks into sight, locking eyes with him through the reflection in an instant as he immediately stops talking; Chenle’s irritated what? Is enough to have Beomgyu snapping out of his daze, turning around as he watches the boy’s manager let out an exasperated laugh.

“Hey,” Chenle begins, spotting Beomgyu as he quickly makes his way to him— Beomgyu remains silent, his eyes narrowed coldly as he tries to make a point that he’s not intimidated, “what the hell was that about back there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu mutters, watching as Chenle scoffs, turning away for a second to compose himself.

“The match,” Chenle clarifies, enunciating each syllable as though Beomgyu were incapable of understanding, “you were supposed to throw it.”

The words are definitely news to Beomgyu; he’s sure it shows on his face, because Chenle only seems to grow angrier by the second, Beomgyu’s silence only irritating him more as he runs a stressed hand through his hair.

“Don’t act fuckin stupid,” Chenle spits out, pushing Beomgyu’s chest and taking him by surprise as he stumbles back into the sink, “We had our deal. Give me back the money I gave you.”

“You have the wrong person,” Beomgyu says slowly, attempting to remain calm as he briefly looks over Chenle’s shoulder, and at the exit behind the two; he had two options: fight— which Chenle seemed more than ready to do— or stay out of trouble and run. The second option seemed very tempting at the moment.

“I didn’t make any deal with you.”

This seems enough to set Chenle off, more than ready to throw a punch before he’s interrupted by his manager; the man’s sharp Chenle is enough to have the two men looking back, over to where his manager leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Beomgyu carefully.

“You,” the man says carefully, nodding at Beomgyu as he raises a brow questioningly, “what’s your name?”

“Beomgyu,” he replies gruffly, watching as the manager only becomes more confused by his response.

“Who sent you here?”

“Hey man, what’s the hold up, our fight started two minutes ago and people are already calling a forfeit—“ Taehyun pauses at the sight of the scene before him, taking a second to compose himself before he’s sending a cold glare to Chenle’s manager, “what’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” the man replies, pushing himself off the wall before he’s shoving his hands into his pants pockets, “now that I think about it, you two weren’t on the original roster we agreed to.”

“The hell are you talking about?” It’s clear that the situation has begun to annoy Taehyun, who remains unphased as the manager begins to walk towards him, “We were invited to the tournament.”

“Oh yeah? By who?” The man asks quietly, tilting his head as he waits expectantly for Taehyun to answer.

“Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu says, the name foreign to Taehyun’s ears as he gauges the men’s reactions, the two of them watching Beomgyu with a scrutinizing gaze— what he sees does nothing to soothe his nerves.

“Choi Yeonjun?” It seems as though that was not the answer either of them were looking for, the older man beginning to walk towards Taehyun, cornering him against the wall as Beomgyu attempts to step in— the warning glare Chenle sends him has him stilling for a second.

“That little rat sent you two? He still has the courage to try and involve himself here?” Something isn’t right— Beomgyu feels as though his body is on fire, buzzing with adrenaline as he watches the man’s tone drop dangerously— he’s reaching towards his jacket, the sight alarming as Beomgyu decides to divert his attention before it’s too late.

His attempt to take down Chenle works fairly easy— at least, that’s what Beomgyu thinks initially, able to take Chenle by surprise with a punch to the face before the boy is recovering; he’s more than ready to take back any of Chenle’s hits, only that’s not what the younger man seems to have in mind as he reaches into his jacket pocket instead.

Beomgyu isn’t given much time to react before Chenle is tackling him into the wall, his head banging harshly against it before he feels himself grow paralyzed with shock and pain— the knife Chenle drives into Beomgyu’s stomach is quickly plunged out, the younger man’s manager pulling him back with a scolding tsk and a harsh pull of his collar.

“Shit,” he can hear Taehyun exclaim, running to Beomgyu’s side in an instant as he attempts to add pressure to the wound; Beomgyu is still in shock as he groans at the feeling, a shuddering breath escaping him as he watches his blood run down his skin and stain his shorts.

“Chenle, let’s go,” the manager hisses, tugging Chenle along and hiding the weapon before either Beomgyu or Taehyun are able to process it.

Beomgyu feels as though he’s swimming underwater with how disoriented he feels, the quiet apologies Taehyun lets out over and over falling onto deaf ears as the noise outside only grows louder.

“We need to take you to the hospital man, shit,” Taehyun says, doing his best to carry Beomgyu with him as they make their way out— he knows better than to try and trust anyone in this place to treat him.

“What’s this?” Taehyun is already rolling his eyes at the sight of a new person blocking their path, more than ready to curse them out and push them out of the way before he realizes who it is; Choi Minho, the club owner, simply smiles down at them, inspecting the two men before him before his cold gaze stops upon Beomgyu.

“Playing dirty already?” His lack of urgency has Taehyun’s stomach churning with dread, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into as the owner of the club only stops to laugh at his own joke.

Taehyun’s guilt and fear for his friend seems to cloud his reasoning; without another thought, he’s pushing past Minho, trying to find his way over to the exit before he quickly realizes that he’s managed to bring all the attention to him.

The crowd goes wild at the sight of Beomgyu’s injury; they’re crowding around the three, attempting to instigate a fight and bet money as their eyes light up with bloodlust— the sight has Taehyun shivering as he stumbles forward in uncertainty, avoiding a woman that attempts to grab out to Beomgyu in the process.

The sight was terrifying; Minho could only watch in satisfaction behind them, crossing his arms in amusement as he watched Taehyun try to push through the packed crowds of people; his hold on Beomgyu was slipping, and he’s sure he’s left a trail of blood by now as his ears begin to ache, trying his best to ignore the catcalls and insults that are thrown at him; both to try and instigate and annoy him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minho calls after them, following behind as people almost seem to clear a path for him; in turn, the people on the other end seem to grow bolder, blocking his path and eager to witness conflict as Taehyun begins to yell at them to move.

“We still need to discuss your connections to this place,” Minho says, his eyes darkening as he meets Taehyun’s heated gaze, “Choi Yeonjun, was it?”

It’s no use; the crowd is getting handsy, pushing Taehyun back towards Minho in order to see the drama unfold. Beomgyu can only cling tighter to Taehyun, groaning in pain as the adrenaline slowly begins to wear off.

Choi Yeonjun, what the fuck did you do, Taehyun is practically ready to spit in Minho’s face from the anger that courses through him, but the fear that Beomgyu may bleed out on him keeps his senses on high alert as he tries to formulate a plan to escape.

His chance to escape comes in the form of five gunshots that boom through the room— each causing more panic than the last, the people around him bigger cowards than they let on as they immediately fall to the floor or scramble for cover.

Taehyun is startled but remains alert, his head whipping around and meeting the eyes of someone who was more than used to coming to unorthodox places to wrangle Beomgyu out of danger.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you angrier as you point a gun towards the ceiling, your jaw clenched and your face confronted into a nasty glare as rubble falls around you.

“Get down,” you seethe, sweeping your gun through the area as you watch everyone cower at the sight, eyes pointed at those who try to get back up to escape, “I said get the fuck down!”

The place seems to grow still the moment you put your finger back on the trigger, the startled yelps of those hiding the only thing that you can hear as you begin to walk forward; your gaze only darkens more at the sight of Beomgyu slumped in Taehyun’s arms.

“___, so nice to see you back here,” Minho smiles, attempting to charm you with an innocent tilt of his head, “What brings you to this place?”

“Let them go, Minho,” you warn, raising your gun towards him as he simply puts his hands up in surrender— yet, the mischievous smile and his unphased body language tell you otherwise.

“And why should I?” He asks carefully, eyes flickering over to where Beomgyu barely remains standing, Taehyun attempting to put all his strength into stopping the blood flow of his wound, “They wronged me, and I simply want answers.”

“Bullshit,” you spit out, jerking your arm as you bring your gun to aim at his head instead, “I have Agust and his men outside. Let them go if you know what’s good for you.”

The sudden name seems to be enough for Minho to falter, his smile wavering for a second before he’s letting out a deep sigh; rolling his eyes, he takes a moment to think before he’s looking over to Taehyun and Beomgyu.

“Go.”

Taehyun doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s making his way over to you without hesitation, struggling to step over the cowering bodies as Beomgyu clings to him like a ragdoll— you’re immediately pulling the two behind you before you’re jerking your head back to the exit, walking backwards as you keep your gun aimed at Minho in warning.

“You’ll be back soon,” Minho grins, his eyes alight with something mischievous and dangerous as he lets his arms down slowly, “just you wait.”

Your free hand reaches for the heavy metal door, your eyes narrowing at his words as he waits for you to say something; in response, you spit at him, slamming the door behind you before you’re ushering Taehyun to hurry up.

“I fucking told you, I can’t fucking believe this,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the gun in your back pocket before you’re taking Beomgyu from Taehyun, slinging his arm over your shoulder as you spot Taehyun staggering behind in exhaustion.

“Hurry up before I leave your ass here!” You yell, now at the top of the stairs as you meet eyes with the one person you now owed your life to.

“Shit, you really weren’t messing around,” Yoongi says, his eyes widening as he takes sight of the unconscious man you carry with you. With a snap, his men take him from your arms, carrying him over to the backseat of Yoongi’s car before he’s gesturing for you to get in, Taehyun following close behind.

“We need to get him to the hospital, now,” you stress, unsure of how much Beomgyu was bleeding out before you got there; from his pale sweaty skin and slow, shuddering breaths, you know it’s best to act fast and ask questions later.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” is all Yoongi says, gesturing towards his men as they all begin to scatter, more than ready to speed off into the streets as he yells at Taehyun to put pressure on Beomgyu’s wound.

Pressed against the seat, you can’t ignore the way your head aches and your eyes sting with the threat of tears, unsure of what you’ll tell Beomgyu’s mother the moment he gets checked in the hospital.

Silently, you reach over to Yoongi, grabbing his hand as you let out a soft thank you. In turn, he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his foot pressing down on the gas pedal as he takes in the anxiety that rolls off you in waves.

⊹⊹⊹

The hospital is cold and unwelcoming.

You’re in the waiting room, unable to stop yourself from pacing as Yoongi remains by your side; Taehyun lingers nearby, his gaze downcast and glued to the floor from the moment Beomgyu was taken away by paramedics.

Your fingers dig into your arms as you sigh for the upteenth time; your gaze falls on Taehyun, your jaw clenching as you take him in— his head is downcast and he remains hunched over in his seat, his elbows propped on his knees as he hangs his head. But even from there, your eyes are able to look over the way his clothes are drenched with blood, his knuckles turning white as he clasps his hands together tightly.

“Excuse me, are you Choi Beomgyu’s guardian?” The three of you are quick to turn at the meek nurse that approaches you, her hands folded politely as you take initiative to step towards her; nodding, you watch as she sighs, her face unreadable under the medical mask she wears.

“I’m sorry to inform you that Choi Beomgyu’s wound was quite severe, and he lost a significant amount of blood.” You can feel Yoongi grasp at your arm as you exhale slowly, feeling yourself become unstable as your mouth falls open in disbelief, “We were able to stop the bleeding, but we’ve noticed that his wound has shown signs of infection; due to this, his condition is still critical— He is currently in the intensive care unit, and we are doing everything we can to stabilize him; Unfortunately, only immediate family can visit at this time.”

She lingers for a moment as she waits for you to say something, but you’re only able to muster enough energy to nod politely, ripping your arm out of Yoongi’s grasp before you’re stumbling outside— the said man is hot on your trail as he keeps a close eye on you, his quiet presence enough reassurance that he’s there if you need him.

Your hands are shaking horribly as you shove them in your pockets; your head hurts, and you feel sick to your stomach as you lean against the hospital walls, your head banging softly against the concrete wall as your pockets fish for something to distract you; Yoongi is quick to guess as he reaches into his own jacket, pulling out a cigarette and placing it in between your lips before he’s lighting it for you.

“He’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassures you, watching with narrowed eyes as you take a slow drag from the cigarette, “he’s a strong kid— in good hands, too.”

“I know he’ll be okay,” you grit out, sighing softly as you watch the smoke escape from your lips and disappear into the night sky, “he has to be.”

Your worries don’t lie entirely on his health; his recovery will be slow and tedious, but you’ll do anything if it ensures Beomgyu’s safety— the problem, however, lies on how much it’ll cost to ensure his recovery.

With the treatments and antibiotics the doctors were currently giving Beomgyu, you’re sure Ms. Choi would break down at the sight of the bill; running a restaurant on her own can only do so much, and you’re sure as hell not blind to the reasons as to why Beomgyu took up fighting in the first place, witness to the way he would leave his prize money before her in hopes that it would take care of the monthly bills.

A prize from the tournament at FightX would’ve been enough to have Ms. Choi closing the restaurant for a while and going on vacation— Beomgyu’s motivations slowly start clicking together in your head as you scoff, taking another drag from the cigarette in your hand as you feel the way your head begins to ache; the last thing you’ll do is have Ms. Choi worry about the bills.

“His mother,” Yoongi starts softly, interrupting your thoughts as he practically reads your mind, “are you gonna tell her?”

You take a moment before you answer, watching as Yoongi leans against the wall next to you patiently; flicking the ashes off your cigarette, you bite your lip, frowning in frustration as you sigh slowly.

“I have to,” you say, your mind already wracking for ways you could deliver the news to his mother, “she’s already worried enough as it is.”

Pulling your phone out, you turn it on to show Yoongi your screen; an onslaught of missed calls and text messages greet you, all from Beomgyu’s mother as you wince at the escalation of the contents— all of them asking if you’re alright, if you know where Beomgyu might have run off to.

“She’s already onto me,” you laugh softly, though it feels more forced than anything as you watch your screen light up again, her contact name taking over the screen as you take a second to look at it; with one last drag from your cigarette, you exhale, accepting the call as you drop the item and grind it into the ground, wincing slightly as Ms. Choi’s alarmed voice fills your ears.

“Yes Ms. Choi, I’ve found him.” You look beyond exhausted as Taehyun watches from afar, only able to hear your soft voice as you continue to reassure his mother— the guilt that was plaguing Taehyun’s mind only comes back stronger as he watches you deliver the awaited news tensely, the words awkward in your mouth as you visibly flinch— only to quickly tell Beomgyu’s mother that he’s safe and there’s nothing to worry about.

“We’re still here. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft and calming as you speak, a stark contrast to what Taehyun saw earlier— he shivers at the thought, eyes widening slightly as they meet yours— stiffening, he can’t help how tense he feels as you gesture for him to come to him.

It’s silent as Taehyun walks to you; tucking your phone into your back pocket, your eyes narrow at the sight of Taehyun walking towards you, as though his tail were tucked in between his legs as he refuses to meet your gaze. The sight is enough to have you angered again as you cross your arms, pushing yourself off the wall as you dig your fingers into your biceps, teeth gritting as you attempt to keep your voice steady as you speak.

“What the hell happened back there? How did this all start?” You ask, your gaze intense as Taehyun forces himself to meet it; you look beyond furious as you wait for him to respond, Yoongi surveying carefully over your shoulder, the sight oddly intimidating as Taehyun begins to recount everything that happened.

“The match was rigged— you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you conclude, looking over your shoulder to see Yoongi agreeing, “who was invited there?”

“It was me,” Taehyun says, not an ounce of hesitation in his answer as he watches your eyes widen at the news, “It was all my idea, I thought it’d give us a bigger chance to win the prize money— I… I was the one who got the invite.”

Taehyun isn’t entirely sure as to why he just took all the blame for Beomgyu; maybe it was his guilty conscience, or the way that he knew if he told the truth, Beomgyu would be in more trouble than he already was— yet a small part of him seems to regret it as he watches the way your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself as Taehyun’s head jerks to the side— his cheek stings at the impact of your palm, but he doesn’t find himself to be angered by it as he remains silent.

“This— this is all your fault?” You say, incredulous as you begin to pace again— whether it’s to hold yourself back from hitting Taehyun again or to process everything, he isn’t sure— “Do you have any idea the shit you just got us involved in?”

From the way Taehyun stares at you, his brows furrowed in concern, it’s clear the answer is no.

“Do you know how much it’ll cost for Beomgyu’s treatment? He could’ve fucking died!” The fact that Beomgyu still stepped foot in the underground club despite knowing the dangers of it isn’t lost on you— if anything, it angers you more, feeling as though he took everything you told him and went through as a joke, teeth gritting together at the thought of it, “his mother can’t afford something like this, do you realize how terrified she is to hear her son is in the ICU?”

“The money from the tournament,” Taehyun interrupts, watching the way you pause in your steps before he continues, “we can just use that— it’s more than enough.”

You remain silent— all you can do is stare at Taehyun for a second, eyes narrowing at him before you shake your head; bitterly, you smile, tilting your head as you cross your arms defensively once more.

“Did you finish the tournament?” You ask, watching as Taehyun slowly shakes his head, “did you win?”

“No— it was just me and Beomgyu left anyway—”

“Did you win?” You repeat, your voice much more stern as you take a step closer to Taehyun; he can feel his heart sinking as he takes in your close proximity, your expression serious as he feels the realization dawn on him as well, “did you stay in the cage, did you hear them announce you as the winner?”

You both know the answer to your question; Taehyun’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks.

“No.”

“No,” you echo, hands falling to your sides, the burst of emotions from earlier taking a toll on you and leaving your voice quiet and tired as you continue, “They might as well call it a forfeit from your part.”

“The prize money is still their’s, and they’ll even hold another tournament while they’re at it.”

Backing away, you glance at Yoongi before gesturing for him to give you another cigarette; the lighter is the only thing that illuminates your face for a second, your eyes tired and angry as they flicker back up to meet Taehyun’s.

“Unless you want to go back and win it, you’re no use here.”

You refuse to talk to Taehyun any further as you turn your back to him; the smoke that escapes from your figure is oddly soothing as Taehyun lingers by your side, lost in thought as he leans against the wall; feeling a set of eyes searing into his skin, he looks up, meeting Yoongi’s curious gaze, watching as he tilts his head before he finally speaks to the younger man.

“Who sent you that invitation?” Yoongi asks, burying his hands into his jacket pockets as he watches Taehyun intently— the said man pauses, mind thinking back to the name Beomgyu mentioned before he’s uttering it quietly, unsure of himself as he avoids Yoongi’s gaze.

“Choi Yeonjun.” Taehyun is surprised to find both of you reacting, watching as your shoulders shake with quiet laughter, head turning to Yoongi who simply sends you a knowing look; the two of you shake your heads in dismay, leaving Taehyun to wonder if he said the wrong name as he watches Yoongi let out a deep sigh.

“That explains it,” Yoongi mutters, taking the cigarette from your hands before he’s taking a drag of it himself; he’s blowing the smoke out to the side before he finally decides to give Taehyun more context, the sight of the man staring at him bringing him amusement as his lips twinge into a small smile.

“You and Yeonjun, were you guys close?” Taehyun slowly shakes his head at the question, making Yoongi scoff— he wonders why the older man seems to be making such a big deal about this person, but the heavy feeling in his gut tells him it’s nothing good, “Makes sense— thought you had a death wish or something.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Taehyun asks, tired of being left out in the dark from the way Yoongi refuses to give proper context; he can’t help the way he straightens slightly as you turn back around to face him, your gaze still full of anger as you glare at Taehyun.

“That invitation was a setup,” you begin, brow raising at the way Taehyun’s mouth falls open in surprise, “Choi Yeonjun was exposed as a rat years ago; he was working with police to try and get the club shutdown, greedy for money— didn’t exactly end well for him.”

It all seems to make sense now; the hostility whenever either boys mentioned the man, the danger it wound them up in— Taehyun tries to keep a straight face at the news, but it’s difficult to do as you grow quiet, surveying Taehyun carefully as you take a step closer to him; then another, and another until you’re eerily close to him, attempting to analyze everything about him before you’re tutting softly.

“But why he would send an invite to you, I have no idea— let alone how he got a spot in the bracket— what’d he tell you, anyway?” your questions are enough to have Taehyun gulping softly; hell, how was he supposed to know any of this? Yet, as far as you were concerned, Taehyun was the only one who was in contact with the man.

“Nothing much,” Taehyun replies, hoping you can’t see through his lies as he stares straight into your eyes, “it came in the mail— just told me he secured two spots.”

“Think about it,” Yoongi says, diverting your attention away from Taehyun for a second— he can feel himself relax slightly, free from your intense gaze as you turn to look at your friend, “Why else would he try to get involved with FightX again? And through other fighters, on top of that.”

“He might be trying to get back in the scene,” you say, seemingly coming to a conclusion before Taehyun can as your face lightens up; first, with confusion, then with amusement as a smile tugs at your lips. Turning back to Taehyun, you can’t help but laugh slightly in disbelief, “The prize money probably wasn’t going to be yours to begin with.”

Still a rat, hmm, you mutter, the smile on your face contradictory to the way you bite your lip in irritation; the laugh you let out isn’t very convincing either, and Yoongi can only roll his eyes at your antics as he’s leaning against the wall once more, taking a slow drag from the cigarette in his hand before he’s flicking off the ash absentmindedly.

“How do you know all this?” Taehyun asks, the question hitting him suddenly as he takes a good look at the people before him; a restaurant worker and a man who seemed to be involved in shadier things than he let on— his curiosity laid more on you, taking in the way you seemed unphased by his question, “who are you guys?”

That’s enough for you and Yoongi to share a bewildered look; it takes a second before you’re both laughing, amused at his words as you allow Yoongi to answer.

“Kid, you’re looking at the two old champions of FightX,” Yoongi smiles, eyes creasing as Taehyun takes notice of the scar that runs through one of them, “We’re the only fucking reason that club survived for so long.”

Taehyun’s look of bewilderment is the only thing to have you cracking a genuine smile; rolling your eyes, you huff as his eyes land on you, observing you for a moment before he frowns in confusion.

“You’re a fighter?” Taehyun asks, watching as the two of you nod without hesitation, “Makes sense.”

“Alright you little prick,” you seethe, eye twitching at his witty comment, “I know you have a smart fucking mouth, but I still can’t get used to it.”

You feel as though you might show Taehyun some of your moves when he simply cracks an innocent smile at you— only to stop, the sound of hurried steps and the loud yell of your name making the three of you turn towards the sound.

Ah, you hear Yoongi mumble behind you, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out before Ms. Choi can pick up on it; the tense smiles the two of you sport quickly has Taehyun doing the same, shuffling back until he’s covered behind Yoongi— from the corner of your eye, you see the younger man cross his arms awkwardly, attempting to cover his blood-soaked clothes as he keeps his head ducked down.

Ms. Choi is a wreck; you’re able to pick up on it easily, the light that leaks out from within highlighting her features that are soaked with worry and stress; her face is pulled into a frown and her eyes threaten to leak with tears as she stumbles to a stop before you.

Her expression is unreadable; you’re unsure of how she might react or what she might do, but you wouldn’t blame her if she lashed out any of her anger on you— jolting, you’re taken aback by the way she practically leaps on you, arms caging you in a bone crushing hug as she buries her head into your shoulder— the sounds of her sniffles are enough to have you snapping out of your frozen state, arms coming up to hold the woman tightly in return.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she mutters, her hands gripping onto your clothes at the reminder, “I’m so glad he’s alive.”

“He’s safe, Ms. Choi. He’s okay, he’ll recover in no time,” your reassurance is soft and endless as you pat her back, allowing her to cry freely into your arms as you give her a moment to recollect herself— sniffing, she pulls away, wiping at her eyes before her gaze falls on Yoongi.

“Ma’am,” Yoongi nods, his face tense as he awaits for her to say something; his face mirrors your own as he’s pulled into a hug, eyes widening and posture stiffening before he slowly returns the gesture.

“Thank you for bringing my son back to me,” she says, pulling away before she reaches up to cup Yoongi’s face; she takes him in, smiling tenderly as she adds, “I’m happy to see you’ve been well.”

Yoongi smiles at her comment; he’s surprised to see that she still remembers him, times spent visiting you at work and pestering you coming to mind as he lets out a soft laugh.

“They said only immediate family is allowed to visit at this time,” you mutter softly, taking her attention as she turns to face you, “We’ll wait out here for you.”

Taking your hands, she nods; you can see how apologetic she is as she takes a moment to smile reassuringly, telling you that she’ll let you know how he’s doing before she disappears inside— watching her figure retreat, you can’t help but frown after a moment, wondering if she’ll be alright on her own.

“Fuck,” you sigh, the reality of it all hitting you again as you tilt your head back defeatedly; staring at the night sky, you bury your hands into your pockets, fighting the emotions that threaten to spill over as you speak, “How the fuck am I supposed to handle all this now.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he becomes quick to reassure you, “I can help you out, I know some people.”

“No Yoongi,” you quickly say, shrugging off his shoulder as you send him a stern look, “I don’t want you to get involved in any shady stuff over this— I got this, you don’t need to worry.”

Your argument continues to go back and forth for a while— Taehyun feels insanely awkward as he’s forced to watch, unsure of what to do as he wonders if it’s just best to sneak away and go back inside— after what seems like ten minutes, he realizes he’s had enough as he goes to butt in.

“Let’s just win that stupid thing back,” Taehyun blurts out, stopping the both of you in your tracks as you slowly turn to look at him, “you said they’d probably hold another tournament, no? We’ll just win it back through there.”

“Are you—?” you cut yourself off as you place a hand over your mouth, running it down in frustration before you’re starting again, “You were invited to that place by Choi Yeonjun, a fucking rat. You really think they’d just let you waltz back in and join?”

“Minho—” Taehyun says, pausing for a moment as he frowns, thinking back to what the owner of the place said, “You’ll be back soon. That’s what he said, no?”

“He wants us to come back,” Yoongi realizes, glancing at you as he watches the way your jaw clenches in annoyance, “He knew we’d be back for that damn prize.”

“And what better way to draw in gamblers than with a match after tonight’s show,” you continue, your mind racing with ideas before you’re finally looking back at Taehyun, “But what, how are we supposed to arrange something like this? You seriously think we can just walk in and have a civilized conversation?”

⊹⊹⊹

“Are you fucking insane?”

Taehyun’s hushed scolding is enough to have you rolling your eyes, unphased by his reaction as you tug your shirt over your jeans more; shrugging your jacket on, you nod back at Yoongi, who only returns the gesture after he’s zipped his own coat up; you can barely feel the gun that’s tucked into your waistband, but Taehyun is determined to not allow you to forget about it as his eyes fall onto it’s hiding spot every three seconds.

“It’s rude to stare,” you mumble, slapping Taehyun’s shoulder and forcing him to turn back around; you allow Yoongi to lead the way through the busy streets, the bright alleyways and busy shops entirely inconspicuous as you make your way to a familiar store, entirely empty except for the owner that attends it.

There are no customers when you enter; The store is packed with products and is poorly lit, and it’s oddly quiet as you walk around; making your way around the aisles swiftly, it almost feels like muscle memory before you’re stopping at the checkout— narrowing your eyes, you’re not surprised to find Minho sitting on a stool behind the register, not bothering to look up from the book he reads as he adjusts his thin wired glasses slightly— leaning on the counter, you clear your throat, raising a brow as you tap your fingers rhythmically on the surface.

“A win is only official after it is announced by the referee; if both fighters fail to present themselves in the ring, the match is invalid.” Minho doesn’t bother to look up from his book as he speaks; carefully, he reaches to fold the page he’s on, pressing his fingers on the dog-ear meticulously before he’s shutting the book gingerly; placing it on the counter, he finally looks up, smiling sweetly as he does so.

“But you already know that, don’t you?”

“You’re holding another tournament, aren’t you,” you say, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

“Perhaps.”

“We want in,” you can see the way Minho processes your words, his eyes scanning from you to Yoongi before his smile is growing a bit wider; catching onto his thought process, you’re quick to shake your head, reaching behind you and pulling Taehyun roughly as you ignore the way he stumbles forward.

“I mean him. Just him.”

Minho’s smile wavers a little— you can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes decrease slightly, but his expression is still amused as he quickly recalls who the fighter in front of him is; narrowing his eyes, Minho hums, oddly docile as he looks back at you.

“Fine,” to say that it’s unnerving to watch Minho agree so easily is an understatement; you’re sharing a confused look with Yoongi as you watch the way Minho stands from his seat, rounding the counter before he begins to walk away— glancing back at you, he nods to the exit, telling you to follow him before he continues walking.

Before you can think too hard on it, you’re tugging the two men along; anything to make sure he doesn’t disappear from your sight, you think, but you can’t help but pat yourself down slightly in search of your gun the moment you see where you’re headed.

“Relax, it’s empty right now,” Minho hums, swinging the door wide open and allowing you to see, smiling in amusement as he takes in the way you remain a few steps back, “I’ve decided that a tournament is just too simple.”

“After the glorious show you put on last night, I knew my patrons would love to see more of your people,” Minho continues, a satisfied look flashing through his features as the three of you finally make your way to his level, peeking through the door cautiously, “and what better way than to skip the bracket and give the public what they want?”

There’s a single person inside; you’re on guard as you watch them, the dull lights of the place barely allowing you to see them as you squint your eyes; He’s practicing, you realize, watching as he uses the punch bag before him diligently, his sounds of effort reaching you as he continues.

“One v. One match,” Minho smiles, glancing into the door to see what the man inside is up to; the four of you watch as he does a spin kick, the force from it sending the punching bag flying to the side, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the empty area as you wince at the sight.

The man lets out a huff of exhaustion after; he’s backing up, shaking his body as he steps into the light that emits from a window behind him— pushing his hair back, you’re able to take in his features, your eyes widening as you realize who it is that currently stands before you.

“Your fighter versus mine— The Cobra.”

The Cobra— otherwise known as Park Jongseong— or rather, Minho’s last apprentice before you left.

“The best of the best, no?” Minho continues, his gaze meeting your own as he smiles knowingly, “you win this, you win everything— no questions asked, no… attacks, on my part.”

You can already hear Yoongi’s thoughts behind you; this is dangerous, this is a horrible, insane idea.

And you agree— you agree wholeheartedly, hesitating to respond as you take another moment to observe The Cobra— yet it seems as though you’ve taken too long, lost deep in your own thoughts as you fail to account for another, stupid variable.

“Deal,” Taehyun butts in, leaving you speechless as you’re forced to watch the way he shakes Minho’s hand casually; the older man can only laugh at the action, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes meet yours— his smile only widens more as he takes in your baffled expression.

You find yourself speechless— even when you go back up to discuss the rules and terms of the fight, speechless when Yoongi reluctantly agrees, and speechless when you walk out of the inconspicuous store, your hands clutching tightly onto the paper given to you with the specific details of the match.

You’re only able to muster up the courage to look at Taehyun once you’ve gotten back in the car safely; he meets your gaze after a moment, brows furrowing as he finds himself annoyed with your dumbstruck expression.

“What the hell do you want?”

This stupid boy has no idea what he just got himself into.

⊹⊹⊹

“Three weeks,” you say, pacing back and forth as you find yourself in the last place you would ever want to be; Seokjin’s small fight club is no match to the basement of FightX, but it’s enough for you to train in as you choose to look past the dimly lit area, the natural light that leaks in from the small windows above the only thing that allows you to see properly— Taehyun watches you impatiently, stretching his muscles as he stands by the training equipment in attention, wanting nothing more than to get started already.

“For the next three weeks, you’ll throw away any plans you’ve made— I expect to see you here everyday for training.”

”Wait, you’re training me?” Taehyun interjects, watching the way you narrow your eyes at him in warning— he looks back to where Yoongi sits, slumped over in his chair as he smiles lazily the moment their eyes meet— then he looks back at you, biting his lip before he continues, “Why not him?”

“Because you want to get trained by the best, no?” Yoongi calls out, already able to see the way you bristle at Taehyun’s comment; the said boy nods, lips pressed together as he takes a moment to observe you again, “Then she’ll be training you. Now watch your mouth before you sweet trainer here decides enough is enough.”

“But the restaurant,” Taehyun backtracks, realizing how his comment may have come off as he speaks, “Won’t you be busy?”

“Winning that tournament is more important,” you say, not missing a beat as you begin to stretch, “Especially since you agreed to fight The Cobra, of all people.”

“Seriously, why is that a big deal?” Taehyun huffs, rolling his eyes as you signal for him to continue stretching, “the dude can’t be that dangerous.”

“That dude has been in the ring for years,” Yoongi says, catching Taehyun’s attention as he pauses in his movements, “Much longer than you, to be sure.”

“Meaning,” you continue, sighing in dismay at the thought of your next words, “He’s been trained by Minho himself.”

“And us.”

The sudden revelation is enough to have Taehyun tensing; stomach sinking, he seems to realize why you were so hesitant to agree to this arrangement.

“Anything we teach you, Park Jongseong has already mastered,” you say, putting on focus mitts before you gesture for Taehyun to come closer, “That’s where you come in— I’ve been praying that you’d be a decent fighter, hoping you’d have some skills of your own we could hone in on.”

Taehyun frowns at your words— you aren’t exactly the most encouraging person he’s met, and he can even feel his confidence dwindling as he stands before you, pausing as he watches you put up your mitted hands— a moment passes and you’re rolling your eyes, scoffing at the way Taehyun seems to be hesitant before you.

“What are you waiting for?” you scold, your tough voice enough for the man to snap out of his daze; his expression is unreadable as you watch a shift in his form, his hesitation quickly being wiped off as he takes a step toward you— his stance is shifting, and you watch with delight as his eyes turn dangerous, honing in on your mitts as he brings his fists up.

Let’s see what you got.

⊹⊹⊹

“Again.”

For once, Taehyun begins to realize the consequences of his actions.

His body is on fire; he feels as though all his strength has escaped him, pushing his hair back for the upteenth time as he winces at the sweat that coats it— you remain unphased, and Taehyun wonders for a second if you have unlimited stamina as you raise your brow at him expectantly.

His body has yet to become accustomed to this new schedule. He’s gotten used to seeing you every day, reviewing techniques and giving him pointers before you’re giving him a thorough workout; tonight, you’ve decided to focus on his kicks, bringing up many different fighting styles and forcing him to practice on the punching bag that hangs in a nearby corner.

“Come on, can’t we just take a break? I’ve been at this for—“

“I said again,” you interrupt, glaring at the way Taehyun sends you an irritated look; Taehyun has grown used to your intimidation tactics after spending more time with you than should be considered normal, your once terrifying anger nothing more than something Taehyun has to put up with as he sighs— he still knows better than to go against you, though.

And so, he does exactly what you taught him— though it’s sloppy, and he knows he’ll get an earful as he executes the kick weakly— though, he personally blames your refusal to give him a proper break for his actions.

“Have you not been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying?” you ask, exasperated as you make your way to him; standing next to him, you gesture for him to step aside, getting in front of the punching bag yourself before you’re getting into the proper stance.

“I need you to remember to swing your hips; like this,” stepping forward with your right foot, you extend your left leg slowly, twisting your hips along with the motion as you freeze, gesturing to your hips, “If you don’t, your kick won’t be as powerful; you need to put your whole body into it, not just your leg.”

Stepping back, you demonstrate again, pushing through the rest of the kick as you listen to the thud that echoes from your move— Taehyun can’t help the way his eyes widen as he watches the punching bag swing back and forth, analyzing your form before another thought is popping into his head.

“That kick,” Taehyun mumbles, switching spots with you as he begins to envision what you just did, trying to get his body to recreate it before he pauses, “Beomgyu did that— he used that move all the time.”

“Yeah? Glad he finally got it right,” you sigh, unfazed by his words as you cross your arms, smiling in amusement— Taehyun turns to look at you, frowning in confusion as you practically read his mind, “Hey, if I can’t stop that idiot from sneaking off to this place, I might as well make sure he doesn’t die.”

The laugh you let out after is tense and bittersweet; Beomgyu was doing much better now, but he remained in the hospital due to complications from the infection of his wound— you were given the news that he would most likely need physical therapy as well, the sound of it only motivating you to work harder after you watched the way Ms. Choi paled with the news.

“He almost knocked you out with it? Holy shit,” you laugh, incredulous as Taehyun tells you the details of his first encounter with the boy— the proud smile that spreads across your face catches Taehyun off guard, your eyes twinkling with delight as you gesture back to the punching bag. “Don’t you wanna get as good as him? Come on, show me you’re not all talk.”

The sudden comparison to Beomgyu has Taehyun bristling with annoyance, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly follows your words— a strange, nagging feeling manifests within his mind, telling him to prove himself and dispel all your worries about him as a fighter— it motivates him, taking a deep breath before he’s getting into the proper stance; closing his eyes, he envisions his body following the same movement path you did, eyes zeroing in on the punching bag before him as he finally executes the kick.

“There we go,” you hiss, an excited grin spreading on your face as you listen to the impact of Taehyun’s kick— though it’s too early for the said man to celebrate, his eyes lighting up for a second before you’re back to pester him for pointers.

“You need to stay light on your feet,” you remind him, rolling your eyes at the way he tries to interfere with your comment, telling you that it’s because I’m exhausted, “Do you think Jongseong will care if you’re tired? You think he’s gonna go easy on you if you start bitching at him the way you are now?”

“There’s no need for you to be such a bitch, either,” Taehyun sneers, getting back into stance as he watches the way you remain unfazed by his comment.

“Maybe I’ll start being nice once you prove to be useful.” you mutter, and Taehyun swears the anger that courses through him fuels his kick as he feels his body twisting with energy— so much energy that he’s losing his footing, the impact that booms from his move much louder than his previous attempts as he stumbles back— from the corner of his eyes, he sees the way your eyes widen slightly at the sight.

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head as you study Taehyun for a second; he’s exhausted and soaked with sweat, his eyes filled with pure anger and frustration you might just think he’ll fight you instead— the thought is enough to have you stifling a laugh, your lips twitching slightly before you’re snapping back to reality.

“You need to practice your balance if you’re gonna use your body like that,” humming softly, you think for a second, brows furrowing as you continue, “if anything, you should try some spinning hook kicks— that could improve your balance great—”

“You’re here again?” the voice that yells out from the entrance has you startled for a second, turning around before you’re groaning in frustration; you’re leaving Taehyun’s side immediately as you go to the source of the sound— Seokjin seems to be just as annoyed as you are, turning on the rest of the lights with an irritated look on his face.

“You know why we’re here, Seokjin,” you say, yet the reminder of your reasoning doesn’t seem to be enough for the man, watching as he shakes his head in disapproval.

“You know I have a club to run, right?” it’s clear you’ve given up as you mutter a yeah yeah, softly, pouting like a child to the older man, “I can’t have this place running while you’re training that poor kid to death.”

“My regimen has results.” you say defensively, glaring at Seokjin, who simply puts up his hands in defeat, unphased by your attitude as he glances back at Taehyun.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Following Seokjin’s line of sight, you find yourself wincing; it seems that you’ve only now gotten a good look at the man, watching the way he’s already slumped down at the bench nearby, his chest heaving with shallow breaths and his eyes fluttering as he holds onto his water bottle tightly— frowning, you listen to the way Seokjin quietly asks you how long have you been in here today? your mind going back to the hours you’ve spent cooped inside this building— not to mention day after day.

“Go back to opening this place,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the way Seokjin smiles triumphantly— the guilt you feel is odd as you approach Taehyun, standing by awkwardly as you watch the way he doesn’t even acknowledge you, much too tired to even open his eyes.

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me,” you say, slapping Taehyun’s bicep and watching as he startles awake— his eyes meet yours, wincing at the sudden increase of light as he squints up at you.

“We’re done for today. Let’s go,” you mutter, unsure of what else to do as you give Taehyun a helping hand; he observes it for a moment, oddly skeptical before he finally takes it— his skin is surprisingly soft for having the hands of a fighter, though you try not to let it show on your face as you help him up; the groan of exertion he lets out isn’t lost on you, and you’re surprised to find yourself feeling bad for doing this to him.

A pitch black night greets you the moment you’re exiting the building, yelling one last goodbye to Seokjin before you’re closing the door behind you— you can hear Taehyun softly grumble about having to climb way too many stairs, and you can only let out a huff in amusement before you’re linking an arm with him for support.

“Come on tiger, don’t let a set of stairs knock you out,” you mock, ignoring his angered rebuttals that he can barely slur out— you’ve really done a number on him today, you realize, the witty man beside you reduced to nothing more than a slumped figure as he continues to complain under his breath, leaving you unfazed the moment he tries to complain about your routines again.

“Don’t make me regret what I’m about to do for you,” is all you say in response, leading him to your car as you ignore his protests that he just wants to go home, “It’s been hours since you’ve eaten— come on, let’s go see Beomgyu, I bet he’s going insane from the hospital food.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sound of food or the mention of Beomgyu that has Taehyun perking up with interest, but you’re rolling your eyes at him nonetheless as you’re starting your car; driving towards Ms. Choi’s restaurant, you’re guessing it’s the former as Taehyun tells you that all he wants at the moment is some simple ramen.

The drive is calming— Taehyun doesn’t seem as annoying to you anymore, but a glance at him makes you realize it’s only because he’s knocked out in your passenger’s seat, completely silent save for his occasional shifting to get more comfortable.

Now this is a side of him you like.

⊹⊹⊹

Seokjin’s words seem to have affected you more than you’d like to admit.

At least, they definitely have if it’s enough to have Taehyun staring at you as though you’ve gone mad, feeling a strange heat rush to your cheeks as you press your lips together awkwardly.

“Are you messing with me?”

“No. Unless you want to go back to the usual,” you snap, and Taehyun can only put his hands up in surrender as he bows his head down; your proposal to have a rest day feels odd to Taehyun, even more so when you’ve already managed to drag the man all the way to the club.

“What’re we even doing here then?”

“There’s less than a week left before the match,” you sigh, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pause to check the message— you feel your shoulders slump with relief as you’re answering, glancing up at Taehyun, who was already watching you curiously.

“While you have shown improvement in your techniques, there’s still more you could improve on,” your sentence is interrupted as the sound of the door opens, the two of you turning to see who might be coming in— while Taehyun fully expected Jin to burst inside and start complaining, he’s surprised to find something else.

“I don’t want your body to wear out on me, so I’ll tone down the intensity of your routines as the final day approaches,” you continue, unfazed by the people that begin to approach— Yoongi is casual as he sends the two of you a wave, the woman next to him sending you a cheery nod before her gaze is falling on Taehyun.

“And we’ll work on your fighting IQ instead.”

One glance at Taehyun is enough to tell you that he has yet to connect the dots; you’re gesturing for the woman next to Yoongi to step forward, bringing her to your side before you’re introducing her— Taehyun notes that the two of you must be good friends, if the way she clings to you happily is enough of a sign.

“This is Sooyoung,” you say, and the woman next to you— Sooyoung— simply smiles, her eyes creasing and her face lighting up as she sends Taehyun a friendly wave, “Sooyoung, Taehyun.”

“So he’s the reckless boy you were telling me about?” Sooyoung asks, tinted lips pursing as she stares Taehyun down— the nickname is enough to have Taehyun’s gaze hardening, sending the woman a harsh look that only makes her laugh— the woman’s bubbly attitude feels far more patronizing than genuine as she tilts her head like a puppy.

“I do see potential,” she murmurs, lost in thought for a second before she’s snapping out of it— turning to Yoongi, she practically bounces over to him, and it isn’t until then that Taehyun takes in the duffle bag that the man carried in with him.

“The locker rooms are back there, right?” Sooyoung asks, looking at you expectantly before you’re sending her a nod of confirmation. Cool. Be right back! she says, skipping away with the duffle bag, her long dark hair swaying behind her as Taehyun’s mouth falls open at his words.

“Is she— am I fighting her?” Taehyun breathes out, a bit skeptical as he looks at you in bewilderment. All he gets in return is the usual roll of your eyes, unable to hold back your laugh at his stupidity.

“No dumbass,” You say, reaching up for the zipper of your jacket before you’re tugging it down— it isn’t until you’re shedding the layer off that Taehyun takes in your appearance, your hair tied back and your face turning serious as you begin stretching— he takes note of your hands, wrapped tightly in the wraps he always uses as his brows are jumping up in realization— catching his reaction, you smile.

“I am.”

Sooyoung is skipping out of the locker room moments later; it’s hard to not notice her, especially with her bright trunks and wraps that match the rest of her outfit— a bright green, the hair tie that keeps her hair up the exact same color as she makes her way to the cage.

“You’ll be my coach for this. I’ll only follow your instructions, so you better not get me fucked up,” you explain, joining Sooyoung by the cage before you’re turning back— Taehyun has yet to follow you, his brows furrowed as he waits for you to tell him you’re joking; instead, you’re left unamused as you cross your arms, hissing for him to hurry up and get over here.

“How is this supposed to help?” Taehyun asks, his gaze following you as you make your way inside; he’s never seen you like this, and though he hates to admit it, you’ve definitely piqued his interest.

“Seriously, are you always like this?” Is all you can say, looking down at Taehyun from where you stand within the cage— Taehyun remains silent, choosing to hold his tongue for once as he simply stares at you in response.

“You’ve never seen The Cobra fight. You don’t know what moves he’ll pull or how to counter them,” you begin, glancing back to the opposite corner; Sooyoung is crouched down in it, speaking to Yoongi through the fence as they throw the occasional look back at you, “You need to learn how to analyze your opponent— their tells, fighting style, go-to moves— everything.”

“Yoongi is coaching Joy in this match; the next match, he’ll be coaching me.” Taehyun finally seems to understand as he looks at Sooyoung— or Joy, as you called her, the strange nickname not going unnoticed by him as he furrows his brows at the sound of it. Yoongi coached Jongseong— so did you.

Through this match, he’ll get to take a peek into his opponents mind, no matter how miniscule.

After a minute of discussion, you finally decide to start the first round; Taehyun is oddly anxious as he watches you, your footsteps careful and calculated as you watch Joy, eyes narrowed and dark as you keep your guard up— the said man’s advice runs through your head, knowing you warned him you’d mostly be using his tips as you circle Joy carefully.

Taehyun realizes why Sooyoung is called Joy; he almost feels unnerved looking at her, the carefree smile and relaxed body language entirely enticing, a perfect trap to lure someone into lowering their guard— but Taehyun knows better than to think lowly of anyone you decide to bring in, her light steps and playful jabs enough to tell him that she’s definitely more calculative than she lets on.

Taehyun’s advice gets you a solid punch to the face and a painful kick to the stomach— it hurts like hell and makes you want to fight properly, but the need to allow Taehyun to improve on his own is nagging as you take the injuries and trudge over after the round is over, eyes pointed at him as though to say now what?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Taehyun hisses, annoyed at the way you already seem to be losing— he knows you can fight, yet the results of the round say otherwise as you stare at him expectantly, enough of a reminder that you currently put all strategies into his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs, glancing back at the corner Joy and Yoongi currently converse in, “It’s clear that she enjoys taunting you. A lot.”

Taehyun seems to be talking more to himself than anything, thinking back to what he saw as he continues rambling, “But she seems to have this tell— every time she’s going to strike, she smiles a bit— which is fucking creepy— it’s barely there but I’ve noticed it, especially in her eyes.”

His comments have you both impressed and amused; it had taken you quite some time to figure out Joy’s tell when you first met her, so to watch as Taehyun thoroughly breaks down her fighting style is enough to have you listening to him intently.

“I think she’s aware of it too, because her rear hand always comes a little closer to her face when she does it—” the one-minute timer is up as Yoongi calls you back to the center of the ring, and you’re looking at Taehyun expectantly for one last comment— with his train of thought interrupted, he stumbles over his words, giving up after a moment before he’s waving you off.

“Just watch her tells. Oh, and avoid her kicks, that looked like it hurt.”

The way you scoff mockingly isn’t lost on Taehyun— but before he can call you out on it, you’re off, the next round starting as Taehyun watches you carefully.

Joy’s tell has become much more obvious to him; it only takes a moment, but he’s able to see every small habit and go-to that Joy has, his mind racing with strategies as he quickly realizes you’re doing the same. Joy is a predictable fighter to you— granted, she was your sparring partner for years— and with Taehyun’s new discovery, you allow yourself to exploit what you know of her and use it to your advantage.

You’re able to turn the match around with ease— Taehyun isn’t able to fight the way his eyes slowly begin to stray, away from Joy and to you, observing the way you remain focused, your moves precise and strong as he even finds himself wincing at times.

After a moment, Taehyun realizes that he’s seeing you in a new light— literally and figuratively, the spotlights suddenly turned on as someone new walks in— it highlights your features perfectly, and Taehyun is able to see your expression crystal clear, watching as your focus is shattered and you’re looking over at the entrance; the small moment of distraction costs you greatly, and Joy is able to land a punch straight to your nose before you’re falling down.

You’re placed into a tight chokehold seconds after, still disoriented from the punch as you reluctantly tap out— gasping for air, you’re quickly turning back to the entrance, glaring daggers at Jungkook, who simply smiles at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, cheeks reddening slightly from the sudden attention, “we’re just getting ready to open soon— you looked really cool though, ___.”

A moment passes before you’re laughing softly at his comment— Taehyun can’t help but wonder what might be going on between you two as Joy pulls you up, calling an early end to the match before you’re both exiting the cage.

“That was super fun,” Sooyoung hums, watching as you can only agree reluctantly; she coos at your disgruntled state, patting your head and laughing cutely as she apologizes for her harsh blows; turning to Taehyun, her smile widens, and Taehyun is impressed to find a bruise forming on her jawline as she speaks.

“___ told me you figured out my tells,” she pouts, her tone playful as she crosses her arms, “I seriously thought I finally got past those. Well done.”

Taehyun feels oddly embarrassed as he nods.

“Let’s continue where we left off tomorrow,” you say, glancing over to where Jungkook busies himself at the bar, ignoring the way all of you seem to observe him for a second before you continue, “Looks like you’re not that useless after all.”

“I think he’ll be okay!” Sooyoung says, a bright smile on her face as she looks at Taehyun happily, “I mean, if you keep going the way you are, you’ll definitely survive!”

The way you and Yoongi snicker makes Taehyun’s jaw clench, rolling his eyes at the way they all constantly patronize him— his lack of response is enough to have Sooyoung apologizing softly, saying that she just loves to tease.

“We should go,” you say, throwing your jacket back on and zipping it up all the way, “they’re opening soon, and I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t wanna be in a place like this any longer.”

Yoongi and Sooyoung agree— they mumble something along the lines of “brings back too many memories,” the words making Taehyun raise a brow as he begins to wonder just how many people you knew from that club.

Taehyun feels awkward as he watches them leave— it’s just you and him, and he’s forced to stand around awkwardly as he watches you gather your things, reluctant to leave you for reasons he can’t seem to think of.

“___, you’re not staying?” Jungkook’s soft pout is a stark contrast to the rest of him, decked in full black and piercings that shine under the lights— Taehyun wonders if the bartender is secretly a fighter as well, the muscle that bulges from his arm not remotely subtle, even under the sleeves of his shirt.

“Nah, I’m too tired. I took a good beating ‘cause of you,'' you say, watching as Jungkook only smiles sheepishly. Your body feels sore and you’re more than ready to go home and rest, but the way Jungkook continues to give you puppy eyes suggests that you might have to fight him off too.

“I can patch you up,” he says, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way he flutters his eyes at you, “I haven’t seen you in so long— you’re never at the restaurant, you know.”

“Well, I am kinda busy,” you say, nodding softly at Taehyun who, to your surprise, is still at your side.

Jungkook remains silent for a second. His eyes leave yours as they inspect Taehyun, analyzing the man who simply huffs and crosses his arms in annoyance. Meeting his eyes, Taehyun refuses to back down, raising a brow as he waits for Jungkook to say something to him.

“Aren’t you tired of being around him all the time?” Jungkook finally speaks, clearly set on ignoring Taehyun as he turns back to you— his smile is seemingly innocent as he leans against the counter, ignoring his duties as he continues to try to get you to stay, “I can bet you I’m more fun to be around than him.”

“Noona,” Taehyun says, his voice stern and clear as speaks. This time, you both turn to him; your shock is clear on your face, eyes wide and confused as your brows knit together, wondering where the sudden formality appeared from.

“We should go. This place is opening soon,” he says, watching as your mouth opens in an attempt to respond— though you can’t seem to figure out what to say, and Taehyun is quick to roll his eyes and go ahead— with one last glance at Jungkook, you bid him goodbye, feeling oddly tense as you follow Taehyun outside.

“Shit,” he hears you say, though he doesn’t pay any mind to it as he stands outside— the smell of rain lingers in the air, the city alight and busy even after dark hours— from behind him, he can still hear you mumbling to yourself, your words incoherent and irritated to his ears.

“You know, if you wanted to stay with that guy you could’ve—“ he’s stopped short by the sight of you, brows furrowed together and a sleeve pressed firmly to your nose as you curse under your breath— though the blood that ran out of your nose still clings to your chin, and you have yet to wipe it off as you continue to complain about the issue quietly, digging in your bag as you ignore Taehyun.

“Hey, you don’t happen to have tissues, do you—?”

The answer is a definite no. Taehyun can feel himself acting on impulse— maybe it was because the sight made him cringe, or maybe he was looking out for your safety— but next thing he knows, he’s tugging you along, away from the hidden building and straight to the convenience store a block away.

“Wait, where are we even going?” You ask, unable to put up much of a fight as you focus on keeping the bleeding under control. Taehyun doesn’t answer, and when you attempt to tug your arm out of his grip, all you get in response is the feeling of his fingers tightening around you.

“Tissues,” Taehyun mumbles, tugging you into the store without a second thought.

You feel oddly awkward around him— you’re not used to seeing him like this— he’s quiet, serious and not the same person that’s always trying to piss you off with some ridiculous comment. Instead, he’s oddly tentative, and you find yourself sitting at the table placed outside as you watch him rummage through the bag, pulling out one thing after another as you sit there, pressing the tissue he gave you a bit firmer to your nose.

“This wasn’t necessary, you know,” you say quietly, eyes narrowing as you observe him carefully— despite your constant reassurance that you didn’t want him to spend on you, you currently watch him eat his instant noodles in silence, your own still covered up and warm while the two of you wait for your nose bleed to die down— though you pretend otherwise, you notice the way he glances at you every other second to see how you’re doing, offering to pour you a bit of soju that you decline with a soft scoff.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he comments, his words muffled through a mouthful of noodles— he ignores your scolding to not talk with his mouth full, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you only get a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah…. thanks,” you mutter, barely audible as you take the tissue away from your nose slowly— Taehyun is mid-bite as he freezes, eyes darting up to observe you— and you smile slightly, relieved to feel that your nose bleed is finally gone.

“Ugh, that was so annoying,” you grumble, wiping at your face for any blood that’s still there; you’re fussing quietly to yourself, unable to notice as Taehyun begins to rummage through his plastic bag once more, finally finding his desired item before he throws it at you, the small packet landing right in front of you unceremoniously.

“Here,” is all he says, avoiding any more eye-contact as he goes back to eating, the ramen disappearing within seconds from how quickly he eats.

An odd silence falls between you; the ‘thank you’ you let out is barely audible, your demeanor awkward as you open the packet of wet wipes he tossed at you— he simply nods at you in response, and you find yourself feeling tense as you watch him sit back in his seat, shameless in the way he stares you down, clear in thought as he presses his lips together.

“Back at the club,” you begin awkwardly, folding the wet tissue in your hands as you speak, “you called me “noona”— the hell was that about? You’re not one for formalities.”

“But you’re older, aren’t you?” Taehyun says, oddly unfazed by your sudden line of questioning, “Thought I might as well start, if we’re spending so much time together.”

“Not even Beomgyu calls me that,” you say, bristling at the way he quotes Jungkook— you feel oddly flustered by the sudden title, even more so when Taehyun simply looks up at you after a moment— his eyes are wide and innocent as he observes you, and slowly, he breaks out into a soft smile.

“I’m just being polite,” he says, straightening in his seat as he tilts his head, “Noona.”

“Enough of that,” you bark out, gritting your teeth at the way he only grins at your response, “We need to talk strategy— your fight’s a few days away.”

“Right, right,” Taehyun says, chopsticks circling the inside of his bowl as pauses, thinking back to the man he only got a glimpse of in FightX, “Jongseong— what’s he like?”

The sudden question has you sitting back in your chair, deep in thought as you think back to Jongseong— The Cobra, or the scrawny thirteen-year-old boy that stumbled into Minho’s convenience store by what you thought was an accident.

“Can you teach me how to fight?” He had asked you, eyes wide and innocent as he stared up at you, a mere sixteen-year-old that worked at Minho’s store as a side hustle. You remembered pretending as though you had no idea what he was talking about, laughing off the way his curious gaze drifted over the pain patches on your shoulders and your bruised knuckles.

“Where’s your mother?” You remembered asking, incredulous at the way he refused to leave or buy anything; instead, he insisted that you teach him to fight, gluing his feet to the floor despite the fact that you chose to ignore any questions he had about you and your secret hobbies.

“Don’t know,” he admitted casually, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his roughed up appearance, his face dirtied and bruised, and his hair filled with dirt and twigs, “she doesn’t come home until night time. I’m alone right now.”

“What… happened to your face?” You asked him, leaning on the counter to get a closer look; you remember reaching over to rid his hair of the dirt, watching as he scrunched his face and slapped your hand off in reaction— the sight of him was an eerie mirror of your own before you found Minho, your brows furrowing at the tough front this kid seemed to put up.

“Some stupid kids at my school,” he brushed you off, running a hand through his hair as he felt the dirtiness of it with a wince; looking back at you, he took in your concerned expression, frowning at the sight as he leaned against the counter.

“You know,” he says, raising a brow at the way you study his injuries, “If you’re that worried, why don’t you teach me how to fight?”

His proposition caught your attention— his words were reminiscent of your own, years ago, when you stumbled upon Minho’s small club by accident, a sad attempt to find asylum— and suddenly, you found yourself thinking it through.

“Okay. But just for self-defense.”

“So you practically raised him,” Taehyun says, the very thought of it making you shiver as you shake your head no, your eye twitching at his words, “No? Well, you did train him, right?”

“Well, he trained for a good two years. Yoongi and I trained him for a while since everyone was too busy to deal with another newbie, and Minho…” sighing, you go to open your own instant noodles, now cooled and a bit soggy as you wince slightly at the sight, “Minho had the idea to throw him in the ring after he reached fifteen.”

You still remember his first fight— you remember being strictly against it the moment Minho proposed it, sudden and instant as he quickly escorted Jongseong away from you; you, being freshly out of a match, barely had any energy to fight back properly.

“This isn’t what he wants. This is too dangerous, Minho,” you remembered telling him, trying to reason with him despite the roaring spectators drowning your voice out. You remembered how Jongseong looked under Minho’s arm; small, skittish and tense, his eyes flicking around the cage in attempts to familiarize himself with the layout as Minho’s fingers only dug deeper into his shoulder.

“Of course it’s what he wants,” Minho responded, always quick to leave you helpless with the way he towered over you, a Cheshire smile on his lips as his eyes twinkled with a dangerous delight, “Don’t you remember how you were in your first fight? Could barely throw a punch.”

Before you could argue, Minho continued.

“You know he has potential. What, afraid he’ll steal the spotlight from you and Yoongi?” Jongseong’s eyes flickered to you then— and in that moment, you realized just how long Minho seemed to have prepared him for this moment, the deep breath he took stabilizing him momentarily as Minho leaned down to speak quietly in his ear.

“Do you know how much money you could make from today’s match?” Minho had told Jongseong sweetly, and the two of them looked over to the other side of the cage, where his opponent waited for him, “It’s your first match— but I’ve given you an easy kill, I know you’ll win.”

An easy kill— that was definitely one way to describe Jongseong’s victory. You watched first hand as the fear drained from Jongseong’s face, replaced with a dangerous gaze that you had never seen before; you watched as he threw perfect jabs, calculated and lethal as he landed hook after hook on his opponent.

Even now, you can’t help but feel surprised at how protective you got over him— especially when he was sent flying with a kick to the stomach, crashing against the ground and leaving you tense as you watched the way he didn’t move.

At the memory, you laugh softly— your eyes flicker up to Taehyun’s, your tone grim as you speak.

“That was his winning move.”

His opponent got sloppy— he let his guard down, approaching Jongseong so casually that the punch he got to the jaw was definitely deserved— and though his body crashed to the floor and Jongseong was able to get the higher ground, he didn’t stop.

“He doesn’t care if you’re down. He doesn’t care if he’s won,” you grit out, your appetite lost as you stare down at your cold food, the memory of Jongseong landing hit after hit to his weakened opponent making you frown.

You still remember the look in his eyes as the referee tore him off his opponent; wild and hungry, still lusting for blood as he attempted to shake the authority figure off. Even when his eyes met yours, horrified at the person Jongseong transformed into, he didn’t care, his grin only widening as the referee announced his name, the audience going wild at the way his arm was thrust up in victory.

The spectacle of his lethal fighting style earned him his special nickname; Minho’s triumphant smile left a sick feeling in your stomach, forced to listen to the way the announcers paraded around Jongseong like a killer animal.

After that day, you watched Jongseong grow into the person he is today; cold, calculated, and borderline murderous.

“Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of the kid who came to me looking to learn self-defense,” you chuckle dryly, frowning at the memory, “Then I remember who he’s become, and I can’t help but feel responsible for it.”

“When I met Beomgyu through that god-forsaken club, I was reminded of Jongseong,” the sudden revelation has Taehyun listening intently, leaning in to watch as your eyes drift off to the city around you, foggy and reminiscent as you tell him your story.

“For some reason, I thought that maybe this time, I could prevent him from becoming a monster,” you mutter, leaning your chin into your palm as you sigh, “Though, I don’t think I like this outcome either.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Taehyun quickly interjects, and he flinches slightly at the way your eyes flicker back to meet his, regarding him for a moment before you smile.

“I know. It was yours.”

He’s not sure how to respond to that; he’s not sure if he should, unsure of what he should say or do as you stare him down silently— after a second, you’re breaking out into a soft laugh, tired and broken up as you wince from the feeling of your bruised ribs.

“I’m just fuckin with you,” you say, sitting up at you take in the way Taehyun visibly relaxes, “You didn’t force Beomgyu to do anything. It was all out of his free will.”

“And I kinda know that you lied about the whole thing being your idea.”

Your confession has Taehyun looking like a deer in headlights— it’s enough to make you laugh, easing the tense mood as he asks you how you knew.

“I had my suspicions from the very beginning,” you say, pausing for a second before you add cheekily, “And, Beomgyu told me.”

“Ah,” he mumbles, biting his lip as he tries to smile at you, “Sorry I lied.”

“Don’t be. It’s interesting that you chose to cover for him,” you say, returning the awkward smile as you add, “I should be the one sorry. For slapping the shit out of you.”

The two of you laugh— though, it’s a bit tense, and a silence falls between you two after.

“You… met Beomgyu? At that club?” He asks after a moment, watching the way you nod without hesitation.

“Yeah. He was sixteen, I made sure to kick him out and warn him once I saw how his worried mother came looking for him. And it worked, for like two years. Then…”

“Then Jin’s club opened.”

You raise a brow at his words, pausing in surprise before you’re nodding slowly.

“Yeah, then Seokjin’s club opened,” you repeat slowly, frowning at the way he already knew, “Beomgyu found himself involved there, and it wasn’t long before his mother came to FightX looking for him. Jin’s club wasn’t as shady— I mean, compared to FightX, that place was like a church. I knew I didn’t have much to worry about, but I still decided to train him for a while… just to be safe.”

Taehyun sees the way your eyes are filled with nostalgia, a soft smile forming on your face from the memories.

“That’s kinda how I ended up where I am now. I could only drag Beomgyu back to his house so many times before his mother started treating me like family too,” meeting Taehyun’s gaze, you’re surprised to see him listening to you intently— it has you tensing slightly, not realizing how much you’ve revealed about yourself until now.

“So,” you start, clearing your throat awkwardly from the way Taehyun’s gaze sears into you intensely, “What’s your story? How’d you end up in this scene?”

“Oh, it’s nothing interesting,” Taehyun waves you off, though you refuse to be the only one delving into their personal life as you press Taehyun for details, “Seriously, it’s pretty normal.”

“Well, tell me anyways,” you say softly, tilting your head as you send Taehyun a challenging look, “Might as well get to know each other, if we’re spending so much time together.”

The way he laughs softly at your mocking comment is slightly contagious— and though you pretend otherwise, you notice the bittersweet look on his face as he reaches for the bottle of soju, pouring himself a shot for the first time in a while before he offers you one; with a slight laugh, you accept it.

“I got into mma with a friend of mine— gave me lessons, sparred with each other, all that fancy stuff. We were really close, and getting into this hobby together only made us closer,” he laughed softly at his words, his mind filled with memories as he stared down at the table, “And now… Well. He’s not around anymore. Passed away less than a year ago.”

You frown softly at the way he pours himself another shot— the grief on his face is still fresh, you realize, his gaze hardening as he places the shot cup back down.

“Without him, I felt… lost. I didn’t really know what to do with myself— after a while, I mostly felt angry.” His finger traces around the rim of the cup, slow and steady as he takes a moment to pause, “I hated that feeling. So, I tried finding the next best outlet, and found a few underground clubs. That’s how I met Beomgyu.”

The air is tense from his story; you’ve never been the best at comforting, so you find yourself unsure of what to do. After a moment, Taehyun laughs, taking in your tense expression with amusement, and it’s only then that your eyes fall onto the dimple that digs into his cheeks cutely.

“God, I’m sure he’d go nuts if he knew the shit I got myself into,” he says, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head, “I’m not sure if he’d want to stop the fight or get front row seats— hell, probably the latter.”

Taehyun is quick to pick up on the glint of amusement in your eyes— he’s just as quick to reach for the soju bottle and pour the two of you another shot, the air much lighter than it was a moment ago as you watch him give you a bright smile, the sight unusual for you as you find yourself giving him an unsure one in return.

“We only have three days left,” Taehyun says, bringing his glass up, watching the way you shake your head in amusement, “Let’s keep up the hard work, noona.”

“Don’t call me that.” You grimace, clinking your glass with his before you’re both downing the liquid—though you can’t help the slight smile that tugs at your lips in amusement, watching as Taehyun slowly becomes more open with you as you let him finish the bottle— I have to drive, idiot, you told him with a sneer, pushing the bottle back to him when he pouted that he shouldn’t be drinking alone.

Taehyun is oddly light—and lightweight— though, not light enough for you to be tugging along back to your car, grimacing at the way he stumbles and knocks into you drunkenly.

“Noona,” he said to you, his words slow as he smiled at the way you snapped at him to not call you that, “Noona, you think I’ll win?”

“Fuck, I hope so,” you grumble, finding your car in the now-filled abandoned parking lot that was close to Jin’s, “It would be a huge fucking waste of time if you didn’t.”

“Okay then,” Taehyun pouts, pushing you away from him and walking off to his own car, only for you to tug him back to your own as you tell him he shouldn’t drive like this, “Why would I wanna be stuck in the car with someone who acts like such a bitch?”

“I act like a bitch because I care,” you bark, opening the car door and shoving him carelessly, only to watch as he turns back to look at you with that same, stupid, patronizing smile.

“If you say so,” he says, his cheeks a bit flushed as he leans back towards you, “Nooooo...na.”

Your reaction is immediate— he feels as though the punch you land on his arm is enough to sober him, rubbing the sore area with a drunken pout.

“Get in the damn car.”

⊹⊹⊹

You currently stand outside FightX. There’s an hour left before the match.

You pace around in worry, unable to stand still as you hear the ruckus of the club and it’s awaiting patrons inside. Your brows are knitted in a deep frown and you can’t fight the way you bite your lip anxiously as you walk around in restless circles, over and over as you’re left in deep thought.

“Stop that, you’re making me dizzy,” a voice calls out, snapping you out of your daze as you watch Taehyun walk up with a leisurely smile on his face— the sight is almost unnerving, his mood a complete opposite from yours as you watch him adjust the strap of his bag on his shoulder, taking a moment before he’s standing before you.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask, watching as he simply shakes his head without hesitation, “you’d be stupid not to be— although, that does make sense…”

“Hey,” he says, lips pressed into a line as he frowns at you, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t degrade me before the match. You’re messing up my concentration.”

“Right. Of course,” you huff out, looking away and missing the way that Taehyun smiles, taking in your jittery figure with amusement— his expression is immediately dropping the moment you look back at him, and he’s mentally cursing at himself for suddenly being so weird.

“Are you gonna make me workout before the match or something? Why are we here so early?” He asks, tilting his head and taking in your attire slowly; it’s not what you wear when you train him, but it’s still light and athletic as he raises a brow at your apparel, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear my energy out just yet.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just needed you to be here so you could get into the right mindset.” you say, and your response is enough to leave Taehyun silent as he stares at you; it’s odd, and you find yourself unnerved by his analytic stare. “What? What’s wrong with you now?”

“Are you worried?” He asks, his question sudden as he takes a step toward you— startled, you try your best to remain unfazed, resisting the urge to take a step back as you take in his sudden proximity.

“Worried? About what?” You say, your responses much too curt to seem natural; mentally, you’re cursing at yourself for feeling so odd, unable to hide what you’re thinking as well as you usually are— especially under Taehyun’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Worried…. That I’ll lose?” He says, leaning in slightly to get a better look at your face; you refuse to pull away, looking into his eyes and keeping your expresion blank despite how close he is— his scent is invading your senses, oddly alluring as you finally get a good look at the man before you, “Or… no.”

Another pause. You don’t know what Taehyun might say next, but judging by the way his lips twitch with the hint of a smile, you know you won’t like it.

“Maybe… worried I’ll get hurt?”

Your eye twitches.

“Hmm. Okay,” he says, quick to catch your small reaction as he backs away, a smug smile on his face— you frown, wondering what he might be insinuating as you send him an incredulous look.

“Okay? Okay what?” You say, watching as Taehyun chooses to remain silent— his sudden refusal to speak to you has you far more annoyed than you’d like, slapping his arm and telling him to look at you, irked by the way he deliberately ignores your request and looks around in wonder, “Okay what? Of course I’m concerned!”

Your sudden confession has Taehyun’s gaze snapping back to yours.

“If The Cobra takes you out, we lose. And if we lose,” you pause, taking in Taehyun’s expression— he’s bewildered, mouth slightly parted as he listens to your irritated words— “If we lose… seriously, will you stop looking at me like that?”

“If we lose…” he repeats slowly, and your frown only deepens in response, “You said we.”

“Yeah…?”

“You’re… coaching me?”

“No, I’m getting front row seats and betting against you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and smacking Taehyun’s bicep in annoyance, “Yes, I’m coaching you. Wouldn’t be here wasting my time if I wasn’t.”

The way Taehyun’s eyes are sparkling under the lights is slightly creepy— you don’t think you’ve even seen such a genuine expression on him before, and you can only take a step back in uncertainty as Taehyun smiles at you; a genuine, soft smile.

“Right, it’s just…” he pauses, clearing his throat before he’s reaching towards you to return the hit you gave him moments ago— though it’s a bit stiff, and you’re raising a brow at the action as you watch Taehyun carefully, “Haven’t had a coach in a while.”

Oh.

You’re sure the thought shows on your face, the reminder of Taehyun’s past life coming back to the forefront of your mind with a slight pang of guilt— though Taehyun doesn’t let you dwell on it, making fun of your face and prodding at you with enough annoying comments that you have to meditating to not slap the shit out of him.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll beat you before your match even starts,” you hiss, your threat enough of an incentive to get him off your back, “Yoongi and Sooyoung are coming as well. We’ll wait for them before we go in.”

“Are they really?” Taehyun asks, and you simply nod in response— the thought of Sooyoung watching him fight wasn’t exactly pleasant, and he finds himself thinking back to the nickname you gave her in the ring, “Joy… what an odd name. Did you ever get a title back here? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Because I didn’t have one,” you huff, rolling your eyes at the way he seems surprised by that, “My name was enough intimidation for them.”

Wowww, Taehyun cooed, the patronizing gesture enough to have you reaching to smack him on instinct— though it seems as though your move was too predictable for him, flinching out of the way with ease and continuing to send you that stupid smug smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to try and provoke you.

“If you two are done with this weird tension, we’d like to go in now,” the look Yoongi sends you is enough to have your face heating up with embarrassment, unsure of what he might mean with his words as you shake your head in annoyance— grabbing Taehyun’s elbow, you lead him down the steps, watching as Yoongi and Sooyoung follow behind with teasing eyes.

“Yoongi, did you have to bring your men along? It’s already crowded enough in there as it is,” you groan, your head beginning to ache at the sight of the packed club— Yoongi simply scoffs, telling you better safe than sorry as he gestures for the two of you to go inside.

“Go find Minho,” Yoongi nudges you, and you nod firmly at his words, “Make sure to let him know we are also here.”

If you insist, you mumble, ready to go off before you feel Sooyoung grab onto your elbow, tugging you back to get your attention— the moment your eyes meet, she sends you a bright smile, pairing it with a thumbs up as she squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“You got this!” She says, letting you go and watching as you weave through the crowd with Taehyun in tow.

“You think we’ll win?” Yoongi mutters in Sooyoung’s ear, watching the way her smile tenses a bit.

“I prayed a little yesterday.”

⊹⊹⊹

“…from what I remember, he’s very straightforward; very serious— spends a good couple of minutes gauging what kind of fighter you are before he strikes. I need you to be careful during this match, okay? Fight with your brain, not just your fists.”

You’ve been talking Taehyun’s ear off for an impressively long time. Taehyun didn’t think it was possible to see you like this, restless and fidgety as you followed him into the locker to give him a pep talk. There was ten minutes left before the fight.

“Relax, I got this,” Taehyun says, and he’s greeted with an unamused look of yours in return, “I didn’t watch you and Joy beat the hell out of each other for nothing, you know.”

The mention of your matches with Sooyoung is enough to have you cringing; while it was good for Taehyun to get a grasp of what you and Yoongi might’ve taught Jongseong and vice-versa, it wasn’t as good to leave sore after each training day you spent with him.

“Can’t believe I did that,” you mutter to yourself, leaning against the lockers behind you in dismay. Though by the way you can hear Taehyun laugh at you mockingly, you know he picked up on it as well.

“You care more than you let on, noona,” he smiles, your eye twitching at the name; you have yet to get used to this sudden formality, and Taehyun is clearly taking advantage of it, judging by the way his smile only widens with your every reaction.

“Noona?” The source of the voice is from someone you’d never forget; both you and Taehyun are looking over at the entrance in an instant, and you can feel your eyes widen as you take in the way Jongseong stands there, much more grown than the last time you saw him.

“Oh. Hi,” you grit out awkwardly, cringing at how tense you sound.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say?” He asks, walking toward you without hesitation; his hair is black and slicked back neatly, a stark contrast to the messy brown hair he could never bother to style when he was younger, “it’s been three years, you disappeared without a trace!”

You’re not sure what he’s going to do as he approaches you in a hurry— hug you, maybe— because he pauses, taking in the sight of Taehyun sitting in front of you, his eyes narrowing as he takes a moment to take the man in.

“You’re…” he pauses, brows furrowing as he goes deep in thought for a second, “Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s name falls from his lips with pure disdain; Jongseong is looking between you and him, his face dropping with disappointment as everything begins to click together in his mind.

“I was hoping Minho was lying,” Jongseong mutters, taking a step back from you as he meets your eyes; he no longer holds the same, wide and nostalgic gaze that greeted you when you first saw him. Instead, it’s cold and scathing, a reflection of the dangerous man you’re preparing Taehyun to face in the ring.

“You’re coaching him, then?” He asks, and all you can do is nod as you take in the anger in his eyes, wondering what lies Minho has been feeding him to look at Taehyun with such hatred, “I see.”

He’s backing away from you. You feel as though you’re losing him all over again as you watch his eyes turn to you, filled with nothing but restless anger as he sends you a vicious smile.

“Try not to lose another one, noona,” he says, feigning a pout as he takes in the way your jaw clenches at his words. His eyes flicker over to Taehyun, pleased to find that his jab seems to have affected him, as well, “Good luck. You’ll definitely need it.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, waving you off before he’s out of sight. It’s quiet, and you’re unsure of what to say now that it’s just the two of you. Sighing, you look back at Taehyun, only to see that his eyes were already on you.

You gulp.

Taehyun has never looked this angry; his jaw is clenched and his brows are furrowed as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he jerks his head side to side— the cracks of his neck have you wincing, though you don’t think he cares, his lips pressing together for a moment before he breaks out into a breathy laugh.

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a smile spreading across his face, fangs dangerous as he bites his lip in a failed attempt to suppress it.

“I can’t wait to fuck him up.”

⊹⊹⊹

The place is packed.

It’s deafening as you make your way to the cage, Taehyun stuck to your side as the patrons make a path for you; you try not to tense at the feeling of Taehyun’s hand on your waist, pulling you in and keeping you away from the men that stare at you with a disgusting hunger.

Their excitement is deafening. It makes your head pound and your concentration waver, jolting into Taehyun from the way people try to reach out for you— the call of your name by old regulars isn’t lost on you, but you try to grit your teeth and ignore it.

“They’re here for you,” Taehyun muses quietly, leaning into you so you can hear him. You scoff, shaking your head as you finally reach the cage’s entrance; Jongseong is already inside, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” you say, watching as Taehyun unzips his jacket and hands it to you; he grins at that, and you’re scolding him to put in his mouthpiece so he can’t come up with a stupid comeback.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you grin, watching as Taehyun can only shake his head in amusement. Your eyes flicker back to where Jeongseong stands, chatting idly with his own coach— your expression turns grim at the sight of Minho giving him tips with a bright smile.

Your hands are warm as you reach out to Taehyun; grabbing both sides of his face, cradling his jaw as you’re pulling him in towards you boldly— he’s slightly caught off guard by your action, eyes widening as he’s forced to remain silently and stare at you stupidly.

“Light on your feet. Be calm. Preserve your energy,” you say to him, repeating all the tips you’ve given him through three curt sentences. He nods, and you nod along with him, slightly amused at the sight of him.

“You got this. I believe in you.”

You’re pushing him into the cage after that.

The floor is scuffed and old. It’s nothing in comparison to Jin’s pristine cage, and Taehyun is finally beginning to take it all in as he looks out, the club packed and rowdy as he scans through the crowd; he spots Yoongi and Sooyoung, the two giving him a nod and a thumbs up the moment their eyes meet.

“Tonight’s match looks quite interesting,” a voice booms out, and Taehyun looks over to the commentator’s table, able to recognize the two faces that beam back at him in excitement— Taemin and Kibum, if he remembers right.

“Not only is it winner-takes-all, but we also seem to have a legend in our midst— if not, two,” Taemin’s smile is ear to ear as the crowd grows louder, and Taehyun is able to spot you shrinking slightly from the sudden attention.

“The king and queen of FightX— sound familiar?” If the crowd’s reaction is any indication of their answer, then Taehyun would say yes. Kibum’s laugh echoes around the cage, and Taehyun feels overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“Not only that, but apparently she’s coaching this guy too!” Taemin and Kibum are off in their own world as they chatter, and Taehyun can’t help but wonder when the theatrics will end and the match will start.

“Minho even seems to have stepped up for today— the best of the best, hmm?”

Minho is more than willing to indulge in all the fanfare; in the ring, Jongseong only rolls his eyes, clearly as impatient as Taehyun.

“Oooh, now now, we should probably stop,” Kibum grins, nudging Taemin playfully, “It looks like our fighters are getting restless.”

“Right, we should probably get on with it,” Taemin agrees, though the way they both continue to talk says otherwise, “This is what you all came to see, right?!”

More cheers.

Taehyun has begun drowning everyone out at this point. Even when the referee steps inside and gestures for the two to come to him, he can’t bring himself to listen. Instead, he focuses, his eyes never straying from the man before him.

The Cobra seems to be just as concentrated as him. His gaze is dangerous and he’s restless as he shifts in front of Taehyun, lips twitching into a smile as the referee asks them to be courteous, to touch gloves.

Neither of them move.

Three rounds, he hears the referee remind them— then he’s stepping back, gauging their reactions before the loud bell rings out, signaling that the fight has begun.

Jongseong moves immediately— but he doesn’t strike, and Taehyun’s eyes narrow at the way he remains in a low stance, swaying slightly as he remains on guard; his constant movement makes it difficult for Taehyun to hit him, and he’s left unamused at the way Jongseong seems to taunt and bluff with a mocking smile.

He throws out meaningless jabs, not bothering to hit him properly as he continues to grin and mess around. This behavior is a strong contrast to the characteristics you warned him of; He keeps his fists close to his face, a complete opposite of Jongseong, who’s body remains relaxed.

Usually, Taehyun would see this as a weakness; he’s left unguarded, goading the audience that only seems to yell at Taehyun to do something— to take the bait. If anything, the way Jongseong smiles through his mouthpiece is enough to remind him of Sooyoung; confident, skilled, quick and agile enough that he can afford to keep his body open as a bluff.

Taehyun throws a left hook as a test. Immediately, Jongseong is jumping back, dodging it and putting his hands up with such speed that Taehyun could’ve missed it if he blinked. Jongseong’s eyes narrow, and it seems as though he’s realized that Taehyun has caught on to his show tactics.

There’s no room to play around anymore. Jongseong seems to have thrown out any tactics to bait Taehyun, choosing to throw punch after punch instead, a slight form of bait on its own.

Taehyun could fight back. He could retaliate to the blows on his forearms and sides, could try to land a few kicks on the man before him and try to injure him. But he would also waste all his energy in the first round, potentially leaving him vulnerable to The Cobra’s attacks in later rounds. It’s clear that’s what he wants— Taehyun throws a punch here and there to make it seem as though he’s falling into the trap, but your words to preserve his energy ring out in his head all the while.

The action to remain on defense makes Taehyun look like a coward. But he doesn’t really mind, especially with the way Jongseong grows cocky, a confident smile broad on his face as he lets his guard down slightly, laughing along to the scathing comments the audience throws at him.

His rear hand falters for a second. And in that second, Taehyun is able to deliver a right hook, his padded fist colliding with Jongseong’s jaw and sending him stumbling off, the people roaring and drowning out the sound of the commentator’s ramblings.

One minute on the clock, will he be able to get another hit in?! Taehyun is effortless to drown out Kibum’s cries, stepping back the moment Jeongseong is back on his feet— for a moment, the two circle each other, and Taehyun can see the way his opponent’s eyes scan him, mind rapidly thinking of a way to counter his most recent blow.

Kibum is audibly disappointed at the sound of the first round ending. How uneventful, he mourns, and Taehyun is happy to see that you’ve made it into the cage, Minho trailing behind you as you both get a minute to talk.

“Fuck, good job, that was a good hit,” you immediately say, grabbing Taehyun’s wrist and dragging him to your corner. His mouth is sore as he takes his mouthpiece out, taking slow drinks of the water bottle you hand him as he listens to you.

“He’s a lot more different now. Still agile, but it looks like he likes playing with his food now,” you say, wiping off the sweet that’s gathered on Taehyun’s skin gently; he feels oddly tense at the action, your tender gesture making his heart beat a little faster as he wonders instead if he’s finally beginning to get nervous from the match.

“He definitely knows you’re not one to play with now, but it’s still good to feed into it sometimes,” you pause, your hand stilling on his chest, the thin towel the only barrier between you as you look up at him sternly, “I know I said to preserve more energy, but get more hits out. He has really good stamina.”

Taehyun tries to sear your words into his head as the referee calls for them to get ready for the next round, the two of you exchanging a reassuring look before you’re off.

Like last time, Jongseong doesn’t seem too keen on being friendly before the match.

Taehyun takes your advice quite seriously— though Jongseong is also able to get more hits on him this way, his bottom lip cracking open after a particularly rough punch. Jongseong, Taehyun realizes, mostly fights with his upper body. He’s quick on his feet and dodges hits easily, but Taehyun has yet to be pinned down or hit with a kick— he tries to keep this knowledge to himself, the next five minutes uneventful as the round ends without any memorable hits.

Could it be that The Cobra has met his match? Taemin mused into the mic, grinning at the way the crowd only booed in response. Ignore that, you muttered in his ear, rolling your eyes at the way the two commentators were still just as annoying as you remembered.

“He only punches,” Taehyun comments, his brows furrowing as he looks over to Jongseong’s corner, “No kicks, clinches, anything. It’s odd.”

“Because he’s saving it for the last round,” you tell him, reaching up to brush the hair from his forehead— you’re serious, trying your best to hide the worry on your face as you warn him, “I’m telling you— he likes to play with his food. Be extra careful, I’m sure he’ll try pulling something new on you.”

The referee calls the break to an end. Pressing your lips together, and you’re nodding as you step back to leave.

“Go all in now. Everything you got, now’s the time to use it.”

The way Minho laughs as you meet him at the cage entrance has you scoffing; Taehyun can see the older man talking to you, though he’s unable to try and see what he’s saying as the referee calls the fighters to the center.

“Last round,” he reminds, placing a hand on both their shoulders, “Clean, fair fight, okay?”

Jongseong nods— then, he reaches forward, offering his gloves to Taehyun.

The slight twitch of his lips is mischievous. Slowly, Taehyun does the same; their gloves touch softly, the commentators quick to point it out as the match begins.

Jeongseong throws a punch instantly.

It’s like a switch has been flipped in his mind. His eyes are filled with eager bloodlust and alight with adrenaline, throwing hit after hit at Taehyun with no signs of stopping. All Taehyun can do is defend himself, unable to get an opening as he’s forced to take the blows Jongseong delivers.

Taehyun thinks he might have an opening the moment the man backs up, hands going down and leaving him unguarded for a second— but as Taehyun throws out a punch, he’s met with a harsh kick to his side, shocking him and knocking him off balance as Jongseong quickly uses it to his advantage.

He’s disoriented with how quickly Jongseong wraps around him; limbs tangled, arms around his neck in such a strong chokehold that Taehyun can already feel his head pounding. Is he gonna tap out? He can hear the commentators asking, forcing him to grit his teeth and throw punches at Jeongseong’s head and sides in an attempt to throw him off.

It seems to work; he’s somehow landed a punch directly to his nose, and the man behind him is stunted by the blow, his hold faltering and giving Taehyun the opening he needed to escape.

Quick to get up, Taehyun slowly catches his breath. Two minutes on the clock! He hears them yell. Jongseong has yet to get up, the blood dripping from his nose making his eyes widen in shock, watching as he struggles to stumble to his feet, still disoriented from the blow.

Jongseong’s eyes meet Taehyun’s; he’s tired, a panting mess and reflection of him as he slowly makes his way to Taehyun, stumbling slightly and heavy on his feet as he winces— an easy finish. For a second, Taehyun can feel himself relax, the tension in his body releasing as he watches Jongseong carefully.

Jongseong takes in Taehyun’s shift instantly— Taehyun is jumping back before he can process it, eyes widening at the way Jongseong aimed a right hook for him, the swing of his arm ripping through the air as he stumbles slightly from the lack of impact.

Then, he’s knocked back.

Taehyun can barely process the way his body moved with such acute precision, spinning and twisting just as you taught him as he lands with no problem, the feeling of him colliding right into Jongseong oddly instinctual; he watches as the man jolts from the impact, his body stiffening and his eyes rolling back as he can only fall from the impact to his body— to his head.

The sound of his body colliding against the floor is loud, Jongseong’s face blank as he simply lays there, eyelids flickering and mind swimming in and out of consciousness as the referee runs to him.

After a moment, the winner is declared.

Taehyun is unable to process anything— the sounds of the audience roaring, the feeling of his arm being thrust into the air, the sight of Jongseong lying on the ground still— he doesn’t process anything, eyes drifting around and looking for one thing like habit.

There you are, face alight with joy as you cheer furiously.

Taehyun laughs slightly— it’s a bit pained, and he winces at the feeling of his sore body, the referee finally letting go of his hand as he stumbles out towards the exit, and straight towards you, pulling his mouth guard out with a wince.

“You did it!” You grin, your voice clear as day, even through the bewildered chatter of the rest as you wave him over. “Fuck, you really did it!”

Taehyun thinks you might hit him again, like you always do; instead, he feels you grab his face, your own alight with euphoria as you tug him into you and crash your lips against his— he barely has enough time to process things before you’re pulling away, your expression sobering as you take in what you just did.

“Hey!” Yoongi calls out, attempting to weave through the crowd as you turn around to the source of the distraction, “Find Minho, make sure he doesn’t try to slip away!”

“Right,” you respond, turning back to look at Taehyun— he’s left frozen and bewildered as he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as you feel a heat rush to your face.

He attempts to call after you, but you’re slipping away before he can get you to stay.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips against his.

⊹⊹⊹

“You guys are insane,” Beomgyu huffs, laying back in his bed with a slight wince, “My mother would be mortified if she found out what you did to get this money.”

“It’s a shame we had to get it at all,” you say, glaring at Beomgyu and watching as he shrinks under your gaze, muttering a quiet sorry, sorry in response. Sighing, you shake your head, taking in Beomgyu’s condition with a smile, “you know, after all these expenses, I think we might just have a bit left over.”

“We could go on a trip,” Beomgyu says without hesitation, and you shake your head in amusement.

“Focus on getting better first,” you scold, smiling at the way Beomgyu lets out a yes ma’am! In response, “I need to go. Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m supposed to get discharged in two days, don’t forget me!” He calls out, and you choose to ignore it as you exit, stopping in your tracks as you close the door behind you softly.

The last thing you expected was to see Taehyun waiting for you, patched up and changed as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” you smile, albeit a bit awkward— he says nothing, and you clear your throat, nodding back to the room behind you nervously, “Visiting hours are over. Uhm, maybe come back tomorrow?”

“I’m not here to see him,” he says, raising a brow at the way you only send him a confused look, “I’m here to see you.”

“And what could you possibly want from me?” Your steps are brisk as you begin to walk back to the exit; Taehyun is just as quick behind you, trying to get your attention to no avail.

“What do you mean what could I possibly want? You’re not one to act stupid, noona,” he says, hot on your trail as you finally make it outside.

You know he’s right— and yet, you feel terribly awkward about it, refusing to look back at him as you begin to wonder where you could have parked, wandering around the quiet lot— you’re a few feet away from your car when Taehyun grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks and turning you around harshly, his eyes angry as he looks at you.

“You kissed me.”

“What?” You say, trying to shake his hold off as you look up at him with shining, innocent eyes, your right one twitching for a second, “What is this, some kind of adrenaline-induced hallucination? Don’t be weird.”

“Hallucination—” he’s in disbelief as he begins cornering you, your back pressing flat against the driver’s door as he practically towers over you, his free hand planted by your head and caging you in, “The way you felt against me felt very real.”

You gulp. This was weird— this was new, something that you definitely had not accounted for, because as you stare at Taehyun, his gaze intense and his face inches away from yours, you can’t help but feel your face heat up.

“It’s— it meant nothing,” you stutter out, heart pounding at the way he very clearly doesn’t believe you, “I wasn’t even thinking, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It meant nothing?” He whispers, his voice low and breathy as he leans in even closer; your eyes are shutting from how close he is, able to feel his breath fan across your cheeks as he lets out a soft laugh, “If it meant nothing, then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been—”

“I don’t appreciate you lying to me, noona.”

You’re silent. Your breaths are shaky, lips parted as you wait for him to say something.

After a second, his lips press against yours.

For a second, it’s gentle; unsure, waiting for you to pull away and tell him to leave you alone— instead, you let out a breathy sigh, your lips beginning to move against his.

The moment you reciprocate is the moment he loses control. His hands are coming up to your face, cupping your jaw tenderly and tilting your head up to him, his lips needy and messy as he pries your mouth open, tongue prodding at your mouth before he’s pulling away to sink his teeth into your soft lips— the pained whine you let out has his mind reeling.

You’re breathless and dazed by the time he finally pulls away— you think you can feel your knees go weak at the sight of a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, watching as he smiles at you cruelly, his gaze dark and hazed as his thumb runs across your bottom lip fondly.

“I won just for you,” he breathes out, eyes darkening from the way your tongue runs across the pad of his finger mindlessly.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward for working so hard?”

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s apartment is nice— well, at least you think. You didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at it.

However, you can confidently say that his bed is nice— you practically sink into the soft mattress, the once neatly done sheets beneath you now a mess from the way you’re squirming under Taehyun.

All he’s done is kiss you— yet, you feel so terribly fucked out and needy, unable to keep your hands off him for even a second, your fingers weaved into his hair and tugging as you feel him moan into your mouth.

“Even now you’re so fucking mean,” he hisses, feeling the way your nails rake down his back; leaving a red trail against his skin, his shirt discarded long ago as he currently worked to get you to do the same. “Shit, I just got out of a match, noona.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you pant, and Taehyun frowns above you as you begin to pull away, “poor baby is too hurt to fuck—”

“I didn’t say that,” he groans, and you’re surprised by the way he takes a hold of your shoulders and pushes you back down into the mattress firmly. He takes this moment to tug your shirt up, throwing it in some random direction before he’s smiling at the sight of you, “Fuck, you have such a smart mouth.”

“Guess it rubbed off,” you say, your words wavering pathetically mid-way, all from the feeling of Taehyun biting and sucking at your neck ruthlessly while his hands came up to feel your breasts, slipping under the fabric and circling your nipples teasingly.

“Yeah? I taught you that?” He asks, nipping at your skin and taking off your bra with swift hands, “Maybe I should teach you how to be good for me then.”

You’re unable to gather your thoughts and bite back— his mouth is sucking at your nipples messily, tongue making a show of it as he groans at the feeling and traces shapes on your skin, too focused on the messy teasing to notice the moment his hand slips past your waistband and cups your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet for me noona,” he sighs, middle finger running up and down your slit teasingly, feeling the way you practically soak through your panties, “This wet for me already?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you grumble, mouth falling open at the way he begins prodding your entrance teasingly, pushing into your hole then going to circle your clit slowly over the fabric.

Taehyun laughs. The way you refuse to submit to him isn’t surprising in the slightest, watching as you refuse to give him reactions with dark eyes, trained carefully onto your face as he feels you get wetter from his motions, taking in what works and what doesn’t simply from the way your face reacts— even if you try to hide it, much to his annoyance.

“What’s wrong noona? Don’t you feel good?” He asks you quietly, his hands already dragging your pants off agonizingly slowly, biting his lip to suppress the smile that threatens to break through, far too amused by this strong front you seem to put up, “I’ll do better then, don’t worry.”

Taehyun is sinking down to his stomach before you can process anything, hands running along your thighs teasingly before they’re hooking under your knees— lifting them up, pressing them against your stomach, able to look down at your glistening pussy with ease.

You’re scrambling to hold on to something the moment he gets his mouth on you— he’s pressing you into the mattress, willing to control the way your hips jump as he presses his tongue flat against your slit, drinking up your wetness and teasing the tip of his tongue along your fluttering hole. The moans you let out are pathetic and embarrassing, your face heating up as you begin to squirm the moment Taehyun wraps his lips around your clit, face buried in your pussy and hair soft tickling against your thighs as he eats you out.

The sounds are enough to make you cover your face— Taehyun is shameless as he eats you out, slurping and sucking and moaning against your cunt loudly— it’s almost as though he were doing it on purpose.

“Taehyun, Taehyun, fuuuck…!” You can’t control your mouth— the sound of his name coming from your lips is enough to make Taehyun moan more against your pussy, cock rutting into the mattress below him as he listens to the sounds you make intently, smiling against your cunt at the sight of you finally breaking under him.

You feel dizzy— the way Taehyun fucks you with his tongue has you whining stupidly, his hand leaving your leg and coming to circle your clit as he continues to fuck you— after a moment, he decides he’s had enough of your squirming under him, his hands reaching to cup your ass before he’s pulling you back into him; your legs are falling over his shoulders, and his face is pressed against your pussy as he grants you no escape.

His grip is bruising on your skin; your thighs close around his head, but he pays no mind to it as he continues to lick at your pussy, gathering your arousal on his tongue before he’s looking back up at you with innocent round eyes, showing it off to you and forcing you to watch as he lets it drip back onto your cunt.

It’s all so messy and overwhelming; you don’t even register the moment you cum on his tongue, your mind going blank and your body relaxing under his hold as he lets you ride out your orgasm, his tongue eager to lick up your release as he lets out soft hums against your cunt.

“Taehyun,” you whimper out weakly, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging at it in order to get him to stop his ministrations— you can hear him complaining to you softly as he refuses to give in, the soft whine of his name only making him want to give you another orgasm— you have to tug harder on his hair to pull him from you, his lips and chin shining with your arousal as he smiles coyly at your reaction; his tongue darts out to lick his lips, wiping at his chin before he’s coming back up to hover over you.

“What happened baby? Just wanted to make you feel good,” He tuts softly, grinning at the way you struggle to come down from your bliss. You don’t seem to realize the moment he’s become completely bare, the feeling of his cock poking at your inner thighs making your snap back to reality, feeling the tip smudge his precum all over your skin as he leans down to kiss you; it’s slow and messy, and he’s eager to push you lips apart and allow you to taste yourself, cradling your jaw as you feel him smile against your lips.

“Why don’t you be quiet for a second? I like you more that way.” the way he frowns at your words has you breaking out into a teasing smile, running your fingers through his hair as you laugh softly— though it quickly falters the moment you feel him rubbing against your slit, his tip running up and down and catching on your clit as your body jolts from the sensation.

“Noona, do you hate me?” He pouts at you, watching as you fail to formulate proper words from the way his tip prods at your entrance, teasingly beginning to stretch you before he pulls out. This continues for a moment, and it’s clear he’s waiting for a response you clearly refuse to give him; frowning, he continues his motions, slowly rutting against your pussy as he looks down at you with sharp eyes, watching as you whine at him to stop teasing— he shakes his head, telling you to answer him, his voice sharp and low as he tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that has you stuttering your response out weakly.

“N—no.”

“Then why are you so mean to me?” He continues, tilting his head as he finally pushes the tip in; he watches your expression carefully, drinking up the way your brows furrow and your eyes become glossy.

“I… your reactions are cute,” you admit, clenching around Taehyun tightly and watching the way he hisses at the feeling.

“Yeah? They’re cute?” He repeats, straightening up and kneeling as he looks down at you. Your fucked out expression could make Taehyun come on the spot, but instead he grabs a hold of your waist, settling in between your legs and pulling you in close to him.

He’s inside you with one swift push; the yelp you let out is embarrassing and you’re quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, eyes fluttering at the sensation of Taehyun fully inside you, thick and twitching wildly. Taehyun takes your hand away immediately; his fingers are lacing with yours, and he’s smiling sweetly as he looks down at you.

“I think your reactions are cute too,” he’s moving after that, his thrusts slow and deep as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You’re holding tightly onto him as moans and whines fall from you, the sounds only fueling Taehyun further as he slowly begins to fuck you faster.

“Feels nice, noona?” He groans, eyes trained on the way your tits bounce with his every thrust. The way you refuse to admit to him how good he’s making you feel has him rolling his eyes, letting go of your hand and gripping your hips before he’s bringing you back into him, bottoming out and rolling his hips slowly into your cunt as he feels the way you tighten around him, his cock taking in every flutter of your walls around him as he lets out pleased sighs.

“What, too embarrassed to admit that it’s me making you feel good?” He asks, biting his lip as he concentrates on not coming too soon from the way you squeeze him, “You didn’t seem embarrassed when you kissed me in front of all those people earlier.”

“It was in the heat of the moment…” you answer back pitifully, unable to hide the way you can barely speak from the way he fucks you.

“Hmm, okay. If you say so,” he hums, and you’re not given room to fight back as he goes back to fucking you— careless, pulling you back into him, enjoying your sounds with a wicked smile, unable to take his eyes off you for a moment.

The moment his hand slips to rub circles on your clit, you feel your mind go blank— the sounds you make has Taehyun cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls clenching around him and sucking him in driving him mad as he gets a hold of your thighs, pressing them against your body and putting you into a mating press as he continues to fuck you.

“Tae— Taehyun, ah, please,” you whine out, left defenseless to the way his hips slam against yours, losing his pace and letting out soft groans as he feels himself coming at the sound of your whines of his name— his cum is barely able to stay inside with the way he continues fucking you, cock rutting into your sensitive pussy as you whine at him to slow down.

“Wanna see you do that again,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to gauge your expression, “Like, a few more times.”

Your pussy tightens around him in response, and he has to bite his lip to suppress the moan that bubbled up his throat. After a second, he’s slowly fucking you again, feeling his cock harden inside you from the sight of his cum escaping you with every thrust.

You don’t know how many times he makes you cum after that— you might’ve blacked out halfway through, Taehyun’s obsession with making you come undone leaving you filled with cum and undeniably sore— he’s insatiable, leaving you a mess under him as you let him use you how he’d like, manhandling you into all sorts of positions as he continues to groan about how good you feel, reassuring you just one more, with your every whine, yet lying each time.

You’re only able to think straight once you’ve found yourself pulled into Taehyun’s chest— the rise and fall of your bodies is relaxing, and you don’t even remember Taehyun cleaning the both of you up as you lie under his covers, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you very much welcomed.

“So, did this also mean nothing to you?” Taehyun mumbles into the crown of your head, nuzzling into your scent as he struggles to stay awake.

“No. This definitely meant something,” you say, equally as tired as you burrow further into the warmth of his chest. You can hear the deep rumble of his chuckles above you, his hands running across your back soothingly as he speaks.

“And what did it mean?”

A pause. You think you both know what it means, but you won’t give him the satisfaction as you nip at his skin teasingly.

“Means you’re okay, I guess.”

You refuse to admit that Taehyun has you wrapped around his finger— though it’s definitely reciprocated by the way Taehyun laughs at your comment, pulling you in even closer still and cooing jokingly that you looove me, hmm?

God, even now, he was insufferable.

But you kinda liked that about him.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt angst #txt fluff #taehyun x reader #taehyun x you #taehyun x y/n #taehyun ff #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut

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oracle-of-dream · 5 months

Note

Could you write a dom! top! taehyun x dom! bot! male reader where althought the reader tries to fight for dominance he ends loosing and getting roughly tamed by taehyun as a punishment? A setting where taehyun is back sweating from his gym session would probably make the plot even better!

We're Even

Minors DNI

Summary: Taehyun is irresistible and doesn't even know how it affects you as he walks around half-naked. You end up mixing with some of his clothes mixed in with your laundry, and he catches you closely "examining" them.

Warnings: Male Reader, Gym ray Taehyun, Blowjob, Forced Deepthroat, Gagging, Creampie, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Light Biting, Underwear Stealing, Olfactophilia (Smelling Kink)

Wordcount: 2.3k

There was a soft knock at your door that woke you up from your nap. "Come in," you groaned as you rubbed your eyes.

The door opened to reveal Taehyun, hair dripping, pecs soaked, and half naked with a towel around his waist. "Hey, y/n, I'm gonna head out soon. Did you want me to get you anything?"

You tried to look at him, but there was nowhere that was respectful. His muscular arms, beautiful chest, and happy trail led downward toward the towel where you could make out a bulge between the folds of fabric. "Um, I can't think of anything right now, I'll text if I think of something." Taehyun nodded as he left, pulling the door closed. You wished you'd snapped a picture to look at him again. You were rock hard already with just a quick look at him. You'd been living with Taehyun for almost a year now. You thought he was cute when you met him, but as soon as he got comfortable around you he was fine showing you how much of a man he was. Flaunting his body as he watched TV shirtless, flexing in the mirror with the bathroom door open, what killed you most of all was when he would touch you. When he touched you, he was so gentle like he was scared to hurt you.

You were snapped out of your daydreaming as Taehyun's voice was at your door again. "I'm gonna go to the gym, I'll be back later. Don't forget about your clothes in the dryer, I want to wash my clothes when I get back." You heard the front door open and close behind Taehyun, leaving you alone in your shared space.

Sitting in your room, lying on the bed, you groaned as you rolled off the bed and shuffled into the laundry room. It was better to get it out of the way now. The room was warm from the dryer, which finished its cycle. You placed your basket at the mouth of the dryer and opened it, letting the warm bundle fall. After emptying the dryer, shifting the ones in the washer into the dryer, and bringing your dry clothes into your room, you spilled your basket onto your bed to start folding and hanging them up. While sorting, you noticed a pair of underwear and a muscle shirt. all of which weren't yours. They must be Taehyun's, somehow getting mixed in with your clothes. You picked them up to take them to his room, catching a whiff of his scent.

It smelled light, clean, and maybe a hint of lavender. Taehyun's detergent that he liked... You looked at the clothes in your hand again, and the urge to bring them closer to your face took over. Your nose met the fabric as you breathed in, smelling your roommate's scent. You're not a bad person. Your roommate, Taehyun, must've forgotten to take his stuff out and you mixed his clothes with yours. He was out at the gym for at least another two hours. Why did that matter? You threw the clothes onto the bed but instantly wanted to smell them again. It would be okay. Just one more, then put the clothes back. He wouldn't even know... You steeled yourself as you lay on your bed, holding his clothes to your face as you breathed Taehyun. Your cock was harder than before, probably leaking at this point, thinking about Taehyun. Thinking about if Taehyun were in your arms, holding you.

Your body moved on its own, sliding your pants down enough for your cock to slip free. Slowly, stroking yourself as you sniffed your roommate's clothes. You felt filthy, gross, and ashamed. It was amazing, tingly, and so good. You wrapped Taehyun's shirt around your hand as you jerk yourself off with it, and smelled his underwear.

His smell was intoxicating. You needed more...

You hid his clothes in your drawer, folded neatly under your clothes. Then you crept into Taehyun's room, opening his closet and digging into his dirty clothes. These clothes were better, and the smell was heavier. His sweat–a heavy musk stuck to his clothes, the strongest on his gym clothes. You stole the clothes, ran back to your room, and closed your door behind you. The material of his shirt was so soft, and the smell of his used underwear made your eyes roll. You fisted your cock so fast it burned slightly, but it was all so amazing! It was so amazing that you couldn't hear the front door. Or footsteps. Or a soft knock at your door before it softly opened.

Taehyun walked in to see you cumming all over yourself; his shirt around your cock, his underwear shoved into your face, and your blissed-out expression that turned to fear as you noticed him.

"Tae–" You scrambled to cover yourself, throwing his clothes behind you. "It's not what you think. I–It was just..." You gave up trying to explain as you felt the reality of the situation on you. Taehyun's expression was a mix of surprise and blankness. You couldn't tell what he was thinking but knew it wouldn't be good.

"...I," Taehyun started but shut his mouth. He turned, closed your door, and felt you sitting in your guilt.

You threw back on your clothes and ran to his room, knocking rapidly. "Taehyun, please, let's talk about this." The door opened, and Taehyun stood in the doorway with the same expression.

"What's there to talk about?"

"I want to try and talk about what you saw."

"I know what I saw. You know what you did. Let's leave it." He tried to close the door, but you pushed your way into his room. "Y/n, don't do this," Taehyun warned.

"Just let me speak! Please," Your voice wavered. Taehyun didn't want to hear you as he tried to push you back toward the door. "Tae–" You pushed against him, taking the both of you to the floor with you on top of him. The two of you wrestled for control. You don't even know what you'd do when you got him to hold still, but he had to listen. You couldn't let it sit. You managed to lift a leg around him and flip him under you, pinning his arms to the sides of his head as you sat on his lap.

"Is this what you want!?" He shouted.

You flinched. "No! I made a huge mistake, and I'm sorry! I regret doing that, I wasn't thinking straight." Your hands tightened around his wrists as he resisted you.

"That doesn't mean you didn't enjoy it, right?"

You lowered your head as he stared at you. "I did enjoy it... It smelled really good, but I know I shouldn't have done it.

"Smelled good?" His voice was full of disgust. "You wanted to smell me?"

"It was an accident at first. Our clothes got mixed up, I ended up smelling them, and it spiraled from there."

Taehyun managed to twist his leg to push you off him. He grabbed you by the hair and forced you into his armpit. "This is what you wanted?"

You instantly smelled his armpit, the smell had deodorant with an undertone of sweat. Your cock was already getting hard again, even when you tried to hold it in. "Taehyun, what are you doing!?"

"Giving you what you wanted. Since you were okay enough smelling my clothes, I'm sure you don't mind getting the smell from the source." Taehyun pushed you more, making his pit touch your nose, giving you no choice but to breathe him in. "Look at you, you're not even trying to fight back. You're hard as a rock. Sure, look sorry to me." Your tongue darted out and licked his armpit, this chemical taste of deodorant coating your tongue. The taste was horrible, but the feeling of having licked his skin made yours jump. Taehyun pushed you away from him, wiping the wetness on his underarms. "You licked me!? You're such a weirdo!"

"I–" You tried to find the words to make things less bad, but there weren't any. "I am a weirdo. I'm a freak. I'm a loser that loves your body, Taehyun." Your face burned as you spoke, "I know we can't go the way things were, so do whatever you need to. Tell me what I need to do to make things even. I'll stay out of your way, stop talking to you, even move out if you want." You were on your knees, looking up at him as you begged for a second chance.

Taehyun looked down at you with an exasperated look. "You want to be even. Fine." He started untying the drawstring on his sweatpants, pushing them down to reveal he'd been commando. His cock was hard, pointing at you angrily. "Make it even. Take care of me. Wherever I am, whenever I want." You couldn't believe your eyes or ears. Taehyun's cock was out in front of you, and you were being told to suck it? Your hesitation made Taehyun impatient as he stepped forward and pulled your hair, making you yelp. "Yes, or no? If you say Yes, we can find a way past this. No, means you can move the hell out."

You nodded quickly. "Y-Yes! I pick yes!"

Taehyun's face had a tint of pink in his tan cheeks as he looked down at you, his cock covering some of your face in the most disgustingly sexy way. "Then, start working," He commanded. You wrapped your hands around his cock, making Taehyun hiss as you stroked him. "M-More," His voice wasn't as stern, more embarrassed. He wrapped his hand around yours, moving you the way he wanted it as he looked around. He tried looking down at you, but every time he saw you looking at him–which made him too embarrassed to hold your gaze. When you started getting the strokes on your own, his hands moved to your shoulders as he held you for balance. "It's good, really good. I want your mouth too." Your mouth watered at the thought, your brain already buzzing into a cock-drunk haze. You wrapped your lips around his cock, tongue eager to explore him. His smell was strongest here, which only made you work harder. His tip was extremely sensitive, every time you sucked on it Taehyun would lose it. "No fucking teasing. Go deeper already," He commanded through gritted teeth. You were so focused that you couldn't hear him, attacking his sensitive spot as his whole body twitched and convulsed. You felt his hand clamp down on your head and force you to take him completely, making you choke. Taehyun didn't let you go, holding you there as he tried to calm down from your sudden attack. He only let you go when you tapped his thigh rapidly.

You ripped yourself off his length, coughing. "You choked me!"

"You weren't listening. If you don't listen, then you'll get punished more. So try using your head–not that it's good for anything other than being a dirty freak anyway." Taehyun pushed you onto your back, yanking at your pants until he managed to tear them away from your body. "Flip the hell over," He ordered as you heard him stroking his cock. You flipped onto your stomach, waiting for what you knew was coming next. "C-Can–Is this okay?" Taehyun's voice was back to his sweet and softer side.

You looked back to see the earlier irritation fading, he looked genuine in his question. Even when hate-fucking you, he still cared enough about you. You nodded, "I want this. And I already said I'd do this to make us even."

Taehyun smirked as he lined himself up at your hole. "Then, I don't want to hear any crying later." He pushed into you, forcing your unprepared walls apart painfully. Taehyun was kind and patient with you, waiting for you to signal it was okay to continue. When you moved your hips back into him, arching your back, Taehyun got your signal. He held himself over you as if he were doing push-ups and moved his hips forward, slamming into you. Your eyes rolled back at the sudden rush of sensation, and Taehyun didn't stop or slow down as he went to town on your body. He fucked you hard. The sound of skin slapping and your moaning sounded through the apartment. You could feel Taehyun's sweat dripping onto your back as he kept up his impossible speed. It must've been his unused stamina from skipping the gym because Taehyun fucked you like that for almost fifteen minutes without finishing.

You were crying, having finished twice already. "Please, Tae. No more..."

"Not yet, we're done when I say so," Taehyun said between breaths. His pace that he'd kept up started to slip, his rhythm was messy and his thrust focused more on power rather than speed. He was reaching his end... You bit your hand as Taehyun slammed into you, and he finally hit his first orgasm with a loud groan. "That's it, freaky boy, here's what you've been waiting on." There was so much cum, you could feel it overflowing out of your whole while Taehyun's cock filled any empty space with more. He collapsed on top of you, putting his cock as deep as possible inside you as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

Your body was stiff, your back hurt, and your ass was definitely going to feel that for a few days. "So, we're even now?"

Taehyun chuckled. "Not by a long shot. I'll take it easy on you today, but maybe you'll be my new cardio workout for a while." You groaned at the thought as Taehyun kissed your neck comfortingly...

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #x male reader #x reader #kpop male reader #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #tomorrow x together #taehyun x y/n

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gyorouis · 2 months

Text

𐙚 VOODOO DOLL.

— "he was so good at everything—sports, academics, and most of the time making you feel sick."

genre: crack, (suggestive?), enemies to lovers (bcs we love ETL trope on taehyun)

pairing: rival!taehyun x afab!reader

warning: kiss :>> and some moments you might find tyun annoying pfft

wordcount: 4.3k

now playing: 5sos — voodoo doll ୨ৎ

you never hated anyone in your life as much as you hated kang taehyun. it wasn’t just the way he walked around campus with the effortlessly cold demeanor, or the way he seemed to have a knack for excelling at everything. it was the sheer arrogance with which he did it all, like the world was a stage and he was the star.

you’d always been the smart one, the dedicated one, the one who put in the extra hours and sacrificed weekends to stay ahead. that was until taehyun came into the picture. taehyun, with his easy smile and natural talent, seemed to glide through life effortlessly. he became class president in high school without breaking a sweat and now, in college, he held the same position, while you were stuck as his secretary. it wasn’t by choice. fate seemed to enjoy this cruel joke, making sure you were always tethered to him, your academic rival, the bane of your existence.

the rivalry started early in high school. taehyun had transferred in sophomore year, and from the moment he stepped into the classroom, he had an air of confidence that rubbed you the wrong way. he was good at everything—sports, academics, socializing. it was as if he was designed to be perfect, and that perfection only fueled your growing resentment. every time he received praise from teachers or admiration from classmates, it felt like a personal slight against you.

one day, during history class, mr. kim praised taehyun for his insightful comments. “excellent observation, taehyun. your understanding of the topic is truly impressive.”

taehyun flashed that infuriatingly perfect smile. “thanks, sir. i just try to keep up with the material.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to stay silent. “must be nice to make it all look so easy,” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

taehyun turned to you with a smirk. “oh, did you say something?”

“just admiring how effortlessly you seem to excel at everything,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone steady.

he chuckled, clearly enjoying your irritation. “it’s all about staying focused and putting in the effort. maybe you should try it sometime.”

that was just the beginning. during lunch, taehyun easily charmed his way into conversations with the popular crowd, while you sat at your usual table, glaring at him from across the cafeteria. when the coach praised him for scoring the winning goal in the soccer match, you overheard taehyun laughing and saying, “it’s all part of the game. gotta keep up the good work.”

you leaned over to your friend and whispered, “it’s like he’s living in a different world where everything is handed to him on a silver platter.”

“don’t let him get to you,” your friend advised, but it was too late. taehyun’s relentless perfection was already engrained in your mind, fueling your growing resentment.

every time taehyun received praise from teachers or admiration from classmates, it felt like a personal slight against you. it wasn’t just about the accolades; it was about the constant reminder of how he seemed to effortlessly surpass you, making every small victory of yours seem insignificant.

but the hatred wasn’t just one-sided. taehyun seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons, always making sly comments and throwing around that smug grin. his friends, beomgyu and kai, were always by his side, adding to the annoyance with their own brand of casual arrogance.

during one particularly grueling student council meeting, taehyun leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “you know, we could always use a bit more enthusiasm from our secretary. wouldn’t want you falling asleep on the job, right?”

beomgyu snickered, nudging kai. “looks like someone’s got a real knack for being a buzzkill.”

kai added with a grin, “seriously, though, do you ever get tired of being so... intense?”

you glared at taehyun, trying to ignore the laughter from his friends. “it’s called being responsible. not everyone finds it necessary to coast through life.”

taehyun’s smile widened. “oh, come on. don’t be such a sourpuss. we’re all just having a bit of fun.”

“fun?” you shot back. “more like another opportunity for you to remind everyone how perfect you think you are.”

“well, if the shoe fits,” taehyun said with a shrug, clearly enjoying the way his comments riled you up.

the meetings always ended in this same exhausting cycle. after one such meeting, you found yourself in the hallway, trying to calm down. beomgyu and kai caught up to taehyun, their laughter echoing off the walls.

“you really got under her skin today,” beomgyu said, shaking his head.

“it’s too easy,” taehyun replied with a smirk. “besides, it’s kind of fun watching her try so hard to keep up.”

kai laughed. “well, keep it up. it’s definitely entertaining.”

you walked past them, your face burning with frustration. it was exhausting to constantly compete for the top spot in every class, every extracurricular activity, every student council meeting. but you couldn’t let him win. you wouldn’t let him win.

now, in college, nothing had changed. if anything, the rivalry had intensified. both of you had chosen to major in literature, and once again, fate had cast taehyun as the president and you as his reluctant secretary. the daily meetings, the shared projects, the constant presence of each other—it was like being trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

the library, usually a sanctuary of quiet study, had become the battleground for your latest clash with taehyun. it was mid-afternoon, and the space was filled with the soft rustle of pages and the occasional murmur of students. you were deeply immersed in research for a major paper when taehyun walked in, beomgyu and kai trailing behind him, their presence a constant reminder of his entourage.

taehyun spotted you and made a beeline for your table, his expression a mix of mischief and irritation. you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

“working on something important?” taehyun asked, leaning over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear.

“just trying to get ahead on this paper,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your notes.

“well, don’t let me interrupt,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “just wanted to remind you that the group presentation is next week. i hope you’re ready.”

you looked up, meeting his gaze with a steely glare. “we’ll see. i’m sure you’ll be ready to take all the credit, as usual.”

taehyun’s smirk widened. “oh, don’t be like that. we’re all in this together, right?”

“sure,” you replied, the irritation clear in your voice. “together. as long as you don’t try to steal the spotlight.”

as he walked away with his friends, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes lingering on you. the rivalry seemed to intensify every time you crossed paths, each encounter a reminder of the unresolved tension between you.

another morning, like any other mornings, the classroom buzzed with the low hum of students settling in for another lecture. you sat at your desk, papers scattered around you, trying to ignore the way taehyun's voice carried over the room like a taunting melody.

“don’t forget,” taehyun’s voice cut through the noise, “the deadline for the council project is next week. let’s make sure we keep on top of it.”

you bit your lip to keep from snapping back. “got it, president. i’ll make sure everything’s in order.”

he gave you that infuriatingly perfect smile, the kind that seemed to say he knew exactly how much he was getting under your skin. it wasn’t just his smile, though—it was his entire presence. how he could be smart, good at sports, charming with the ladies, and still manage to hold the class president position year after year. it was like he had some kind of cosmic cheat code that ensured everything went his way.

the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. students began to gather their things, and taehyun, as usual, took a moment to thank everyone with that same insincere tone that grated on your nerves. you quickly packed up, ready to face another round of his demands, trying to suppress the growing frustration that simmered beneath your surface.

as you glanced over at taehyun, standing tall and looking every bit the part of the perfect president, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this rivalry was far from over. if anything, it was only getting started.

you remember the exact moment the rivalry started. it was during a surprise quiz in history class. mr. kim had just handed out the papers when taehyun raised his hand, asking for an extension. his charming smile and polite tone seemed to melt mr. kim’s resolve, and the extension was granted. the entire class watched in awe as taehyun breezed through the quiz, finishing it in record time.

“did he seriously just get an extension on a quiz?” you muttered to your friend, your frustration evident.

“i know, right? it’s like he’s got some special deal with the teachers,” your friend replied, shaking her head.

as the weeks went on, it became clear that taehyun wasn’t just a threat; he was a walking, talking embodiment of everything you resented. he excelled in every subject, won every sports match, and somehow managed to charm his way into everyone’s good graces.

the breaking point came during the annual debate competition. you’d been working hard for weeks, preparing your arguments and rehearsing every night. but when the day arrived, taehyun showed up with his usual air of nonchalance. despite your best efforts, he stole the spotlight with his effortless charisma and razor-sharp wit. the judges’ praises for him were like daggers to your heart.

“you were fantastic out there, taehyun,” one of the judges said, patting him on the back.

“thanks, sir. just had to wing it a bit,” taehyun replied with that infuriating grin.

you clenched your fists, your face flushing with frustration. “wing it? you made it look like you didn’t even break a sweat.”

taehyun turned to you, his smile never fading. “oh, didn’t you hear? sometimes less is more.”

you barely managed to hold back your scowl as you walked away, the echoes of his laughter ringing in your ears.

as the semester in college progressed, the rivalry between you and taehyun continued to simmer, but there was something new in the air. taehyun’s behavior began to shift in ways that left you both confused and frustrated. it wasn’t the overtly arrogant taehyun you were used to; instead, there were moments when he seemed almost... considerate.

it started with small things. one day, as you struggled with a mountain of paperwork, taehyun appeared beside your desk, carrying a stack of your files.

“you look like you’ve got your hands full,” he said, placing the files down with a casual smile. “thought i’d help out.”

you looked up, stunned. “why would you do that?”

taehyun shrugged, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “just figured you could use a hand. no big deal.”

you tried to ignore the way his smile made your heart skip a beat. “thanks, but i’ve got it covered.”

but the mixed signals didn’t stop there. he would randomly comment on your progress, offering advice that was surprisingly helpful. during class discussions, he’d even seek out your opinion, as if genuinely interested in what you had to say.

“i was thinking about your point on the symbolism in the novel,” taehyun said one day. “it’s actually pretty insightful.”

you raised an eyebrow, wary. “is this some sort of trick?”

taehyun’s expression was unreadable. “no trick. just thought it was worth mentioning.”

these moments were disorienting, especially when contrasted with his usual smug demeanor. you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing some kind of game, but you couldn’t figure out the rules.

“how does he manage to be so perfect?” you muttered to yourself one evening, staring at your pile of essays.

your friend, who was sitting across from you, glanced up from her own work. “maybe he’s just really good at hiding his flaws.”

“or maybe he’s just not human,” you replied bitterly. “it’s like he’s got this cosmic cheat code that makes everything easier.”

despite your best efforts to stay annoyed, there were moments when taehyun’s unexpected kindness made it hard to maintain the facade of hatred. his small acts of consideration seemed genuine, but they were always accompanied by that signature grin that left you questioning his true intentions.

one day, you found yourself alone in the library, lost in your notes. taehyun appeared out of nowhere, carrying two coffee cups.

“thought you might need this,” he said, handing you one of the cups. “it’s been a long day.”

you took the cup, your fingers brushing against his. “you really don’t have to do this.”

taehyun’s smile softened. “just thought it’d be nice. no strings attached.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting. the rivalry, which had always been fueled by pure animosity, was beginning to blur at the edges.

you watched him leave, your mind racing. the tension between you was still there nonetheless, but it was laced with a new complexity that you weren’t sure how to read. the more taehyun tried to be considerate, the more you struggled to maintain your resentment.

the line between hatred and something else entirely was growing increasingly thin, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this rivalry was evolving into something much more complicated than you had ever anticipated.

as the semester wore on, the stakes in your academic rivalry heightened. the university announced a major academic competition, a team project that required both strategic planning and a deep understanding of the subject matter. fate, in its twisted sense of humor, paired you with taehyun.

initially, you were horrified. the idea of working with him felt like a punishment, a cruel twist that ensured you’d be constantly reminded of your rivalry. but there was no escaping it—you were now partners.

the first meeting was fraught with tension. you sat across from taehyun in the library, papers and textbooks spread out between you.

“we need to divide the tasks,” taehyun said, his tone unusually professional. “i was thinking you could handle the research while i focus on the presentation.”

you glared at him. “oh, so you get to do the part where you look impressive while i’m stuck doing all the grunt work?”

taehyun raised an eyebrow. “it’s about playing to our strengths. i thought you’d be fine with the research.”

“fine, whatever,” you snapped, trying to ignore the way his calm demeanor only made you more irate.

as the project progressed, moments of conflict were inevitable. during one particularly heated discussion, taehyun’s voice rose in frustration.

“i’m just saying that if we focus more on the data analysis, it’ll strengthen our argument,” he argued.

“and i’m saying that we need to present it in a way that’s engaging!” you shot back. “no one cares about the data if it’s boring!”

the argument continued, voices raised, until beomgyu and kai, who had been studying nearby, looked over with concern.

“you two okay over there?” beomgyu asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“we’re fine,” taehyun replied tersely. “just working through some differences.”

kai exchanged a glance with beomgyu. “it sounds more like you’re on the verge of tearing each other apart.”

“we’re just passionate about the project,” you said, trying to sound more composed than you felt.

despite the frequent clashes, there were moments when you and taehyun inadvertently supported each other. during a particularly grueling night of work, you found yourself in the library, exhausted and frustrated.

“this is so much harder than i thought,” you muttered, staring at the pile of notes.

taehyun, who had been working in silence across the table, glanced up. “hey, do you want some help with that? i know it’s a lot.”

you looked at him, surprised by the offer. “you’re actually willing to help?”

“well, yeah..” he said with a faint smile. “it’s not just about winning. we need to do well for our own sake.”

the days following the big competition felt oddly anticlimactic. while you and taehyun had shared a moment of unexpected friendship, if you can even call it that way, it was quickly overshadowed by the return to your usual academic rivalry. the possibility of being friends seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared.

the tension between you two flared up again, intensified by a debate that had become the talk of campus. it was the kind of event where both your reputations were on the line, and the stakes felt higher than ever. when the day of the debate arrived, you and taehyun were once again pitted against each other, this time in a public forum.

the debate room was packed, the audience buzzing with anticipation. taehyun stood on one side of the stage, his usual confident smile in place. you faced him from the other side, equally determined and poised. the topic was one you had prepared meticulously, and you felt a surge of adrenaline as the debate began.

as the debate progressed, it became clear that you had the upper hand. your arguments were sharp, your points well-articulated. taehyun’s frustration was evident, his responses growing more strained with each passing minute.

finally, the debate concluded, and the judges announced your victory. the applause from the audience was a sweet victory, but taehyun’s scowl as he walked off the stage was a stark reminder of the rivalry that still simmered beneath the surface.

the next day, taehyun’s frustration reached new heights. he spotted you across the campus, sitting in the cafeteria with yeonjun, a guy from one of your minor subjects. you and yeonjun seemed deep in conversation, laughing and sharing food. it wasn’t just that you were with someone else; it was the way you seemed so at ease, so indifferent to the intense rivalry that had dominated your interactions for so long.

taehyun's jaw tightened as he watched from a distance. the sight of you enjoying lunch with yeonjun, seemingly carefree, was like a bitter pill he couldn’t swallow. he didn’t understand why it bothered him so much, but it did. the casual ease between you and yeonjun, the way you looked so relaxed, felt like a personal affront.

as he walked past the cafeteria, he couldn’t shake the irritation gnawing at him. it was as if you had completely erased the existence of his presence, your attention now diverted elsewhere. the nagging feeling of being replaced, of not being a priority anymore, simmered beneath his calm exterior.

later that day, taehyun confronted you in the library. the place was quiet, with only the occasional rustling of pages and the hum of distant conversations breaking the silence. you were at a table, buried in books and notes, preparing for the next round of exams.

taehyun approached, his expression a mix of frustration and something harder to define.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice clipped.

you looked up from your notes, surprised by the sudden intensity in his tone. “what’s wrong now, taehyun?”

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, his frustration spilling over. “you’re acting like the debate didn’t even happen. like it’s just business as usual. and now you’re all chummy with yeonjun?”

you narrowed your eyes. “i don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“it is my business when you act like everything we’ve been through means nothing!” taehyun’s voice rose, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students.

“you think everything revolves around you?” you snapped back, your patience wearing thin. “i won a debate. life goes on. and so do I.”

taehyun’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and confusion. “you’re unbelievable. it’s like you don’t even care anymore.”

“maybe i don’t,” you said, your voice cold. “you’re not the center of my universe, taehyun. i have other things to focus on.”

there was a tense silence between you two, the air thick with unspoken feelings. taehyun’s frustration was palpable, but so was the underlying hurt. he was at a loss for why your casual interactions with someone else were affecting him so deeply.

before you could say anything more, taehyun closed the distance between you, his hand grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. in a sudden, impulsive move, he kissed you. it was a kiss filled with a mix of frustration, anger, and a desperation that neither of you had anticipated.

when he pulled away, both of you were breathless, staring at each other in shock. the library seemed to close in around you, the tension of the moment heavy in the stillness.

“what was that?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

taehyun’s eyes were wide, his expression a mix of regret and confusion. “i... i don’t know. i just...”

“you can’t just—” you began, but your words faltered as his lips found yours again.

the kiss had changed everything. since that moment, your interactions with taehyun were charged with a new, electric tension. in public, you maintained your usual bickering and rivalry, but in private, the dynamic shifted dramatically. every chance encounter in the library or the student council office became fraught with the unresolved emotions of that kiss.

in public, the rivalry seemed as intense as ever. you and taehyun continued to spar in the classroom, arguing over every small detail as if nothing had happened. his smirks, once infuriating, now felt almost playful, like he was trying to provoke a reaction from you.

“still haven’t learned to keep up, have you?” taehyun would tease during class, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“you just love talking, don’t you?” you’d shoot back, pretending to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you.

you found yourself glaring at him across the cafeteria, where you deliberately chose a table as far from him as possible. taehyun, however, seemed unfazed, his attention flicking over to you now and then as if he was waiting for you to make the first move.

in private, however, the tension was electric. the library corner, once a haven for studying, now held the weight of your unspoken feelings. one afternoon, you were alone at a table, deeply engrossed in your notes, when taehyun appeared at the edge of your vision. he approached with a purposeful stride, his expression unreadable.

“need any help?” he asked, his voice low.

“no, thanks. i’m fine,” you replied, not looking up.

taehyun moved closer, leaning over your shoulder. the proximity sent shivers down your spine. “you sure about that? because it looks like you’re struggling.”

the closeness was unbearable, and before you could react, taehyun’s lips were on yours, his kiss urgent and hungry. the library seemed to close in around you, the only sounds being the rustling of papers and the rapid beating of your hearts. his hands were on your hips, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any distance between you.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, eyes locked. “that’s what i thought,” he murmured, his voice rough.

the student council office, too, became a site of charged encounters. one evening, after a particularly heated meeting, you were alone in the office, organizing paperwork. taehyun entered, his expression a mix of frustration and something softer.

“we need to talk,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“about what?” you asked, keeping your back to him as you continued to sort through files.

“about us,” taehyun said, moving closer. his voice was barely a whisper. “about what is happening between us.”

you turned to face him, but before you could respond, taehyun’s hands were on your shoulders, pulling you into a fierce kiss. the office, with its mundane surroundings of desks and files, became a backdrop for the intensity of the moment. his lips moved against yours with a passion that left you gasping.

after a long, heated moment, you broke the kiss, your breathing ragged. “this doesn’t change anything, taehyun,” you said, your voice trembling.

“doesn’t it?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “because it feels like it changes everything.”

the days continued in this new, complicated dynamic. in public, the rivalry was as fierce as ever, but in private, the moments of passion and intensity deepened the connection between you. every touch, every stolen kiss in quiet corners, only served to blur the lines between animosity and affection. the rivalry that had once been so defining now felt like a fragile mask for something deeper, more profound, and undeniably complicated.

one afternoon, as you were leaving a particularly contentious student council meeting, taehyun caught up with you, his usual smirk softened by something more genuine.

“we should grab lunch sometime,” he said, his voice more tentative than usual.

“oh? trying to make amends?” you teased, but there was a warmth in your tone that belied your words.

“maybe,” taehyun replied, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest look. “or maybe i just want to spend time with you outside of all this.”

your moments together had become more frequent and more tender. one evening, after a long day, you and taehyun found yourselves back in the student council office. the room was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioning.

“you know,” taehyun said, leaning against the desk, “i’ve been thinking about us.”

“that’s dangerous,” you replied with a playful grin, but your heart wasn’t in the banter this time.

“why?” he asked, stepping closer. “because it’s complicated?”

“yeah,” you said softly, looking down. “it’s a lot to figure out.”

taehyun reached out, gently tilting your chin up so you met his gaze. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. but I want to be with you, even if it means getting through this mess.”

you felt a surge of warmth at his words, and before you could respond, taehyun’s lips were on yours in a tender, lingering kiss. it was a kiss filled with promise and hope, the kind that spoke of a future where you both were willing to face whatever came next together.

gyo's note: never knew i needed enemies to lover trope taehyun, i tried my best to write the way i think he would be for this kind of trope so i hope did great ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა. like and reblog if you liked this! if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading! you will be loved. xoxo!

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page-yerin · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘. 강태현

sypnosis: you can’t sleep so your boyfriend comes over to help

genre(s): fluff

pairing: nonidol!kang taehyun x afab!reader

trigger warnings: profanity, (mentions of) insomnia

a/n: i wrote this for myself honestly LMAOO insomnia really loves messing with me these days

for my fellow insomniacs that stan taehyun<3

You toss around your bed for what seemed like the nth time, the mattress sheets shuffling under you. With a heavy sigh, you roll around to the small table on left side of the bed. Your fingers lightly tap on your phone screen, the brightness spreading and lighting up the whole room.

2 AM. Well.. shit.

You groan into your pillow, coming out as muffled grumbles. All you wanted was sleep, even one hour, but insomnia just had to bite you. Not even the lingering scent in your boyfriend’s clothes could help.

Tired—literally, and of no sleep—you grasp your phone. You pull it over to you, laying sideways on your pillow and pressing your boyfriend’s contact.

[y/nie] : taeee are u awake? can’t sleep ㅠㅠ

You knew he probably wasn’t, but it gave you some comfort to let him know you were awake. Although, you did feel guilty if your message wakes him up in the middle of the night.

You get up from the bed and manage to stumble downstairs, eyelids heavy and exhausted. You plop down onto the couch next to the front door with a deep exhale. You pick up the remote next to you, turning on the TV in front of you.

Just a few minutes into the video, the doorbell rings. Taehyun. You hastily shut off the TV and dash to the door, opening it.

Your boyfriend stands there, at your door, the street lights reflecting onto his skin in the dark of night. Taehyun scans you up and down, a gentle smile enveloping on his face. “You look really cute in my shirt.”

Your eyes widen, feeling heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach filling with butterflies. “Thanks..”

Taehyun slowly steps into your house, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door shuts, he snakes his arms around your waist and lowers his chin onto your shoulder.

“Were you on your phone before you went to sleep?” Taehyun murmurs into your ear as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck.

“Mhm..” You hum, feeling his lips press onto your collarbone. Taehyun pulls away to look at you, eyes softening.

“That’s why you can’t sleep, princess..” He scolds lightly. You nod sheepishly, letting your head fall to Taehyun’s chest.

You hear Taehyun sigh before sliding one arm to your upper back. He pulls his other arm away from you, moving to one side of you and crouching to slide his other arm under your thighs. He then lifts you up bridal style, making you letting out a small squeak.

You lean against his chest as Taehyun carries you upstairs, pushing the door of your bedroom open. He gently lays you onto your bed, going back to close the door. He returns shortly after and slips in next to you.

You shuffle towards him, laying your head on his chest. “Sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night..”

“It’s okay, love. I got up because I want you to be able to sleep.” Taehyun tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You look up at him and whisper, “Can you sing for me? It might help me sleep.”

Taehyun looks back down at you with a small smile, wrapping his arms around your torso. “Anything for you, princess.”

Your heart flutters at his endearing words, and warmth envelopes you as Taehyun holds you close. Your eyes shut as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat and his soft lullaby. Sleep once again welcomes you in open arms.

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hyukascampfire · 4 months

Text

To: Someone From a Warm Climate

wc: 7.5k

genre: smut, angst, fantasy violence

pairings: faerie!taehyun x human!reader

synopsis: a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

a/n: okay i am actually so obsessed with a icy and mean taehyun. like genuinely it is rotting my brain LMAO

! warnings: violence, blood is drawn, some heated kissing and groping, a magic spell is placed over a human character, fem reader, mentions of violence, animal death

playlists: taehyun | series

| next

The stale reek of the ancient, crumbling palace walls makes it feel increasingly like they are closing in on you, as you trail only a foot behind the odd goblin spy. He is quiet, relatively short in stature and quite grubby. You have plenty of reasons to be scared of him; a royal spy, no doubt lethal in skill, who could probably spin around and end your life the second he decided he didn’t like you. But you aren’t scared of him—no, your brain is quintessentially human, and more scared of whether or not the rest of them would find you up to their standards when you arrive there.

Growing up among the folk was, in an understatement, challenging. They were of a different nature. They did not understand the rules of the human world, and could never understand your resentment for being spirited away. They would argue that it was a blessing, that you would one day grovel at the feet of the faerie that had stolen you here all those years ago. You grew to hate all things faerie, a potent seed nurtured in your mind the more Nut-hatch made you sew the gowns she couldn’t manage, until your fingers were bleeding and sore. Who wouldn’t adore a life spent at the beck and call of the faerie that snatched you right from your cradle?

You trip over a loose, fractured stone, reaching out for a wall to catch yourself. You hiss as your palm stings, re-steadying yourself and spinning the hand over to inspect the burning scrapes. Blood wells around shallow scrapes, but you force your legs back into motion when you notice the stout goblin still making his way down the passage.

“And you expect to be a spy,” the goblin laughs, a throaty and irritating sound, “crying over a scuff.” He does not even turn around to address you, but you can’t say you expected that. You had done nothing to earn his respect. You hope to change that.

Instead of defending yourself, and making yourself sound pathetic, you just stop nursing the scrape. The walk is long, and you find your mind wandering to ways this could play out. Many of them do not end well. You squeeze your eyes shut, gulping down a swallow despite the tightness in your throat. When you feel your foot catching on flat ground again, nearly toppling forward, your eyes lurch open. Don’t close your eyes walking down the halls of decrepit old castles, genius.

He makes a stop a few feet ahead of you, just before a towering, ornate and heavy elmwood door. The metal handles are scuffed to the point that they are utterly dull and reflect little light, and there are four long gashes that splinter the wood. Wild gashes like that could only have been carved by a beast of Faerie origin.

“So, this is the entrance?” you ask, catching up to him. You gesture at the door in front of you.

He levels you a stare, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. A yellowed canine so sharp it would pierce your jugular with little resistance peeks out. You squirm under his glare, yellow eyes scrutinizing you for a moment.

“More like this,” he says simply, looking pointedly at a slate tile at his feet. You sigh. You suppose you should’ve inferred that the entrance of a royal spy den is not just a door with no visible locks or veiling. You watch as he dislodges the loose tile from the ground with practiced ease, a heavy hunk of stone that reveals a set of stairs leading down into the ground. The palace they had decided to conceal the den within is no doubt timeworn, but the staircase you look at now seems to be built much more recently. The stone is significantly less worn and eroded, save for the dirt that caked the tops of each step.

You frown at the prospect of heading down without even so much as a torch on the wall. “How deep is that staircase?” You ask. The goblin had already begun descending, pausing at the third step with visible impatience.

“Oh, just get down here, won’t you?” he grumbles. “This damned stone is heavy.” You observe the utter pitch black of the stairwell for a moment, before relenting and descending into it. The sound of stone grinding and the light weaning to nothingness unsettles you as he slides the coverstone back over the entrance.

“I can’t see shit,” You say. He curses you out under his breath before he grabs you by the meat of your arm with gnarled, calloused fingers, tugging you forward and down the steps. You protest as you almost slip off the ledge of a step, stumbling down each descending one for a few moments until you come to another stop. You sit in waiting for whatever he is doing in the pitch black, breathing in the air thick with the smell of mud and all things earthy, without questioning him again. You do not intend to come off as any more incapable than you already had made yourself look. Your stomach is tied in such tangled up knots that you don’t know how to act right; how to act like the capable spy that you had painted yourself to be in order to even end up in this decaying palace. You wonder if he is second guessing his decision in even bringing you here. You hold your head up a little more, squaring your shoulders.

A resounding pattern of knocks bounces off the dirt walls surrounding you two, and the sound of muffled words spoken follow, before a soft yellow light luminates your surroundings as a peephole slides open. You blink your eyes to readjust, taking in your surroundings for the first time since that stone snuffed the light out. A rickety, rotting wood door stands before you, oddly shaped to fit the round, burrowed out dirt hollow. The light filtering in from behind the door disappears when somebody peeks through it. No words are even exchanged before a metal sliding bolt unlocks, and the round door swings open. You squint your eyes in the light.

“This is her?” A reedy faerie stands holding the door open, her skin a pale green and with an iridescent sheen to it. The hood from the cloak around her shoulders is tugged over her head, but you can see the way she takes you in even through the shadow it casts.

“Something wrong?” The goblin asks, shoving his way past the long limbed sprite. You stay put, not wanting to just barrel your way in.

She scrutinizes you for a moment longer, shrugging. “No,” she says, lips pursed, “just a bit…” She hesitates on the wording. “Underwhelming?” She leaves the door to follow him in. You gnaw at your cheeks. You are used to being lackluster—You were raised from infancy here, in a world of beings that redefined the meaning of beauty. Humans could be beautiful, yeah. But it was not the beauty of starless nights for eyes, nor of flower-petal skin, and never hair of twinkling, gold-spun strands. Human beauty could only ever exist in the four-walled prison of facial symmetry and physical attraction. Even the most gritty of the folk had a certain air of ethereal about them, worted and twisted as they may be. You resent them every day for it.

Their little hideout is humble. It smells of old wood, and furniture is minimal. The two of them sit at a square table to the center of the room, leaving three other seats empty. You mull over whether or not simply taking a seat next to them would be offensive, before just shoving your nerves down with a foot long stick and just sitting. The sprite girl tugs her hood off her head, revealing a head of tousled white hair, except for horizontal stripes of black that decorate some chunks. Her eyelashes are chunky, spidery, and curled, so long they tickle her brow with each blink, and they frame the green pair of eyes not too different in tone from her skin. She sits nonchalant and kicked back in the chair, chunky boots up and criss-crossed on the table.

“This is the place where you’ll meet us,” she says, addressing you finally. She wiggles a foot as if this conversation is the last she’d like to be having. You pause inwardly—you had thought this would be some sort of rugged, skill-testing spy interview, not initiation. “You’ll meet the others whenever they–”

You cut her off. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my qualifications?”

She quirks a delicate brow.

“Or, like, test me? Or something?” you continue. The two of them share a look, before breaking out into snorts and giggles. You shift in your seat, frowning. There was nothing funny about your questions.

“We would have never even brought you down here if we didn’t already decide on you,” the sprite girl says, and then gestures at the goblin, “We heard plenty of you from Gristle.”

The goblin sputters to explain himself, embarrassed how the sprite had made it seem like he was raving. Gristle is his name, then. “We needed a human counterpart,” he says, pointing a clawed finger at the sprite girl. “Nobody else was doing the heavy lifting in recruiting. You try and see how it is, then.” He huffs, voice gravelly. “We needed one, and I brought you one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, voice softening to the tone reminiscent of one used to soothe a tantruming toddler. “You sure did, Gristle.” She flexes her booted foot to point in your direction, “But did you bring us a competent one?”

You cross your arms across your chest, narrowing your eyes. “I’m plenty competent,” you say. Sure, you are just some inconsequential servant girl of a busy seamstress faerie. But you need to make something more of yourself. You could learn anything, if it meant that. “You don’t have to worry about me running off and telling anybody anything.”

She barks a laugh, as if the notion was ridiculous, “Well, I should know that, because I assume you value your life well enough.” She lets her feet drop off the table, prowling toward you, before sliding an ornate dagger from its sheath at her hip and brandishing it to you. “But could you even hold your own if someone engages you out in the field?” She then drives the thick pommel of it into your chin. Your head snaps back with the force of the strike, and you can feel by the warm trickle of blood that it had busted your chin open.

You look at her, wild-eyed and accusatory. Your jaw aches as you open your mouth to ask, “What was that?” A trail of thick blood runs down your neck, and she just scoffs.

“Figures.” The sprite sheaths the dagger, dropping back into her seat unceremoniously as if she did not just bash you in the chin.

“I don’t know how to fight yet,” you say, wiping at your neck. You bring your hand up to check the damage, hissing through your teeth as you prod around the gash. You shake your shoulders, as if it would shake off the searing pain running up and down your jaw, before adding, “But I can learn. I will learn.” Gristle tosses you a rag he had retrieved silently from a drawer, his mouth pulled taut into a line. You wipe up the remnants of the blood, the metallic tang of it finally reaching your nose. You shudder as you press the rag to the wound and hold it there.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Gristle cracks, his grin toothy. “We weren’t going to find humans who could already fight,” he says, a fur-tipped ear twitching, “but one willing to learn…” He looks at you, and then returns his gaze to the sprite. “We can work with that, Cricket.” When her face stays drawn, he repeats, “We can work with it.” His yellow saucer eyes are serious.

Cricket doesn’t say anything; her grassy eyes simply go distant with thought for a moment. It was true; humans are not brought to the world of Faerie to learn to fight. Or to be anything more than servants, at that. The luckiest ones, like you, are at the very least schooled on reading and faerie histories. Lucky would be an overstatement, though. Nobody stolen from their homes, and then forced to accept a reality in a foreign world, is genuinely lucky. Despite it, you no longer dream of the life you could’ve had in the human world. It is not your life. It will never be your life. And, considering the look that Cricket and Gristle share, your life is now to be the human counterpart of a royal band of spies.

“Do you know how an oath works?” Cricket asks, pulling out that same embellished dagger and spinning it between two fingers. You hesitate, before nodding. You don’t, and she seems to read right through you. She narrows her eyes at you.

“First of all, don’t lie. Never lie. We have to be able to trust each other.” She says, still spinning that glittering dagger utterly nonchalant. “You’ll want our trust when you’re on the field and need your back covered. Not knowing how to officiate an oath is one thing,” she stops spinning the blade to point it at you, “lying to me is another.”

You shake off the embarrassment that crawls up your throat, “I’m sorry. I want you guys to trust me.”

“Trust is especially important with you,” she says. It’s true. Humans can lie blatantly with their mouths. The folk could twist truths to deceive, and bend over backwards to make one thing sound like another, but they could not just lie. In your schooling years, you were taught that a lie is simply against faerie nature. You had laughed at that—if anything seemed to be in faerie nature, it was lying.

“We can start our trust,”—she gestures with one finger between you and herself—“off on the right foot with a geas.” She takes your arm not holding the rag and tugs it toward her. You struggle with the word geas. A geas is a faerie ensorcellment the folk dearly love subjecting humans, who did not know any better, to. They sweet-talk them into it, and when the human was fully ensorcelled, the human becomes a living plaything to make dance unabashedly and kiss the dirt off their boots. The term leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

“An oath and a geas are not interchangeable,” you say, wary and preparing to take your arm back. “Which is it?”

“An oath means nothing to a human.” She looks to Gristle for support, “Right or wrong, Gristle?”

“Leave me out of it.”

Cricket rolls her eyes. “We just have to get some type of insurance,” she starts, “so that I won’t have to end up tying up loose ends.” A knock rings through the room, the same rhythmic knock that Gristle had performed on the door. Gristle clambers over to the door and slides the peephole open.

“Decided to show up to work today?” Gristle says through the peephole, before sliding the hatch open. You look away from the door before seeing who enters as Cricket grows impatient, spinning your arm so that your palm is facing the roof. She takes her dagger and slides it across the delicate skin. You try to reclaim your hand, but she holds it steady and slides a slit across her own palm.

“Are you guys trying to bleed me for every drop I have?” you protest. You could probably count the amount of wounds you were inflicted with since stepping into the palace on two hands. You watch as she clasps your hands together, mushing the wounds, still seeping blood, together.

You had forgotten about the knock at the door until a new voice with a deep and silvery quality to it asks, “Trying to do it before I could get here, Cricket?” The voice travels from behind you to in front of you, and the man behind it comes into view. He is relatively tall, towering over Gristle and quite a bit taller than Cricket. His hair is dark, hanging over a pair of sharp eyes that glare daggers at Cricket. You thank all things good that he is not leveling you with that icy smolder. He is notably less armed than the other two, with just a bow at his back. No doubt some discreet daggers here and there, though. You notice quickly that his ears are the distinct rounded form of a human’s ear.

“This is Taehyun.” Cricket gestures with an exasperated arm. If the roundness of his ears is not already telling, the name is. He was human. You frown, retracting your hand.

“I thought you guys were looking for a human counterpart? That you had no human piece?”

The quickness that Cricket was trying to get a geas over you is already unnerving, but now they are lying about the circumstances of your recruitment?

Cricket gives Taehyun a look that could match the heat of a thousand suns.Taehyun’s face is stony and unmoving. Gristle does not make so much as a peep.

“Taehyun,” she takes your wounded hand into her own again, “is faerie.”

“What about his ears, then?” You make a gesture around your own ear, one that drags along the round curve of it. Faeries were not born with rounded ears, not the goblins, nor the hobs, nor brownies, not even ones that are the most humanlike in nature. You have seen folk with knives for teeth, skin of boulders, hair from ear to clawed foot, but never rounded ears. It was another intrinsic piece of their nature; what set you apart from them. He was absolutely a human, and they were absolutely liars. They had to have spoken their words in a way that made one thing seem like another, spun truths into lies. It was the faerie way. You would not be magically compelled by liars. Taehyun’s face flashes with the first emotion you had seen since he arrived, but it is muddled and hard to read.

Cricket scowls deeper, “He is not a human.”

Taehyun gets in closer, his eyes venomous. “You know how I feel about that shit.”

You try to decipher whether he meant being human, or the geas, but his next words solve it for you. “And you were going to try and do it before I could say anything.” When Cricket opens her mouth to say something, he cuts her off, “Don’t you say that’s not true.”

Cricket turns to you, decidedly not responding to Taehyun. “I want the geas, because it will make us feel safer. I swear on the Mighty King’s life that I will not use it to control you in any way, other than to keep your mouth shut about our operations. You will not hear another thing of it from this day forward, anyway.” Her words are proof enough of her honesty, plain and so obvious in their wording that she could not be twisting her truths around a lie. She means what she says, or else she would not be able to say it. “Would it make you feel better if you were the one to make it, Taehyun? Would you just shut up, and let us move on from this?” She asks. Gristle feels the tension as bad as you do, so thick in the air you could choke on it, making himself busy sliding a blade down a sharpening stone.

Taehyun does not respond, his black eyes conveying exactly how he feels about that. You attempt to ease the atmosphere, while also catering to your own curiosities, “How is he a faerie, with rounded ears? That doesn’t…” Taehyun’s eyes flicker at the topic of his ears again. “Exist.”

“Well, it seems you don’t know all that you think you do about Faerie then, huh?” Taehyun spits. He spins, and begins for a hall that leads further into the spy den, long legs clad in black striding near silently beneath him. The words crawl under your skin successfully. You could spend your whole life here, and still the folk would see you as foreign. It makes you want to make that geas, to make something of yourself. To be a spy, and make them see that you are so much more than what Nut-hatch told you that you are destined to be; A servant to the superior beings. To make him chew his words, because you know plenty about this foul world, and how to live in it. If anything was true, it was true that you know more about it than him.

You turn to Cricket, more determination in you now than you even had when you pledged your case to Gristle. “I’ll take the geas. I’ll do whatever it takes to become a competent piece of your team, I swear it. I know my words don’t carry much weight to you, but please, let me show you that I mean them.” Cricket grins, tightening her hand to yours, tilting her head to one side and batting her spiky lashes at you.

“I knew you were a smart girl.” She taps you on the nose, before her expression drops to a more solemn one. The headiness of faerie enchantment tugs at the sides of your vision, turning it wavy and magnified about the edges. You feel it thread through the air, and then spread from your palm to your arm, and then all over, under your skin, like an itch, and in your head, like potent faerie wine. It lasts for a moment’s width longer, before you blink it away. She drops her hand from yours.

“You will not speak of this team, nor its operations, to anybody I do not authorize, and are, from this exact moment forward, unable to reveal the location of our center of operations.” You shudder under the gravity of knowing that your autonomy is vulnerable, and in her hands. Was it ever truly yours to have, though? Faerie glamour and enchantments on humans are unpunishable, and often seen as entertainments. Is a geas permanent? You shove back that worry; it’s too late now.

Gristle whistles a descending tone, finally making himself known again. “This place, we call Homebase. Or, The Hole. Whichever you prefer,” he gestures around, and you take in the shoddy ceiling, the make-shift kitchen, and the weapons strewn about every surface. Definitely a spy hideout. “There are a few others for you to meet. They come and go; but you’ll be staying here, I understand?”

You nod. He knew about your situation with Nut-hatch already.

“Okay, then. Let’s get you a room.” He hobbles to that hallway Taehyun had stormed down, his gold-embroidered cloak dragging on the floor behind him. You follow, scoping out the scenery.

“Do the others not stay here?” you ask. You two continue down that same hall, the smell of underground musk still heavy. That would take you some getting used to.

He grunts in affirmation. “Whoever you met today, stay here. The others dwell elsewhere, for some reason or another.” He stops at a room, and opens the door. The room is ornate in contrast with the other rooms of The Hole, the bedding plush and made of fine threads. It was not anything overly extravagant, but perfectly fit for a spy of The King. It is better than sleeping in the sweltering-hot attic of Nut-hatch’s cottage, you decide, appreciating the cool and damp air. And here, they decide that you are worthy enough of your own room. That is more than enough for you.

“But, you’ll meet them tomorrow, no doubt. Make this room your own, I’ll fetch some more fitting garments for you,” he gestures down to the simple linen frock you adorn. You feel the odd tickle of embarrassment at the back of your mind. The irony of your attire, while living under the roof of an esteemed seamstress, is hard to ignore. Nut-hatch had always liked to scold you up and down that there is no need to look frilly working a gown shop, while simultaneously being dressed in ribbons and lace. You take a deep breath of linen-scented air, and then release it. And then, you get to making the room your own.

❉

You do your best to plant your booted foot to the ground, to save yourself from anxiously toeing dirt or stone. The clothes they had brought for you were odd and foreign, as someone who only wore the most efficient of dresses and leather slippers for the entirety of her life, leading up to this moment. The hooded cloak bunches around your neck and shoulders, and it is stifling. The boots are so heavy and chunky that they chastely kiss the ground when you step. It trips you up. The sensation of pant legs securing your thighs and shins is suffocating, and the weight of the weapons secured by straps are heavier than you’d ever expected them to be. And, to top it all off beautifully, your first assignment is with Taehyun. You’re supposed to be heading north, to the land of the Northern Queen, where the folk are Unseelie, and are said to be the most vicious. You’d already let that thought sink in, though. Now, all you can mull over is spending the trip with Taehyun; the contempt he had regarded you with before he left last night is still fresh in your mind.

Lightweight footsteps approach behind you, and you know it’s Taehyun. He plops a full pack on the ground wordlessly, before tugging the hood of his mantle up and over his head. He is, like yesterday, fashioned in a black tunic and a matching doublet, embroidered with silver threads at the lapel and cuffs, a heavy bow strapped to his back. Maybe a bit flashy for days of traveling by foot, but maybe you also have no idea what flashy actually means.

You cross your arms over your chest, before gesturing to the bag you had already packed for yourself, “I packed.”

He sends you a vacant look. “Put that one back.” He says. The air is so tense, you consider just doing it, but his tone ruffles your feathers.

“I have stuff that I want to bring in mine.” He doesn’t respond, his face locked and static. “Look,” you huff, “I know you don’t respect me yet, but I’m trying my best to become competent, you know?”

“I respect you,” he picks up the pack he brought for you, and dusts the bottom off. “You would freeze to the core in the north without the stuff packed in here. Competence is nothing to a corpse.”

You blink at the bluntness of his words and press your mouth into a thin line, before placing your original bag on the table and slinging the other over your shoulder. You gesture for him to lead the way, and he does so without falter; and so you start your trek off on a lovely note.

❈

There is plenty of time to mull over what you would be doing in the north as Taehyun leads you through the lush forest. The hum of insects and nearby streams, and the cloying scent of summer-warmed bushberries, reign supreme. When your stomach begins to rumble for not having eaten all day, you stop by a bush with exceptionally heavy branches and begin picking. The juice of the berries is thick and golden, like honey, when they mush between your fingers, and it glitters in the odd way that faerie fruit does.

“Are you dull?” Taehyun’s voice, thick with contempt, makes you jump and lose your handful of berries. “That is a Goldhip bush,” he says, his brows pinched, “you would die without a sign; just drop dead to the grass.” He scoffs, spinning and heading the same way he had been going before you decided to grab fistfuls of, apparently, intensely poisonous berries. You follow him, shaken.

“I had no idea,” you say, mostly to yourself, but he stops, turning on you.

“You can’t afford having no idea out here. You’re going to have to step up to your role, now.” He gives you a long look, before turning back around and stepping over a felled log.

You step over the log as well. “I didn’t really have any reasons to know your poisons in my old life,” you say. Nut-hatch had at least fed you well, and you were never set out scavenging off berries with an empty belly. You set your pace so that you are parallel to him, instead of trailing him. “What are the ones I should know?”

He doesn’t even pause to think for a moment. “Goldhip berries are turned into a liquid extract, and dropped into drinks. It doesn’t have a smell, but has a notorious sweet taste. It doesn’t matter by the time you taste it, though; you’re as good as dead.” A chill burrows its way under your skin. You had been so close to death; had you just popped a berry into your mouth, you would be dead right now.

“How would you even avoid being poisoned by that, then?”

“You don’t.” He deadpans. “It’s why you have to stay always painfully aware of your surroundings. Always.” You nod.

“Silver and salt are poison to the folk. They singe the skin, and when ingested, they decay the insides. It’d be best if you use that to your advantage. A poison harmless to you, but deadly to another, is an asset.” You clasp your hands and thank the sky inwardly at that. It feels like an ah-hah moment, to have something over the folk. Small mercies.

“Human poisons don’t work on the folk at all. So, whatever you remember from your old life won’t serve you here.”

Old life? You have no old life. “I was raised here,” you say, keeping the hurt that tugs at your features on a tight leash. “I was in Faerie before I could even walk.”

You watch as his face falters, sunlight filtering through tree leaves dappling his features and highlighting his nose. He is beautiful, like all fae are. He only nods in acknowledgement, but you can tell he tucks the information away.

He presses forward. “Hunter’s Bane is a milled-up tree leaf that inebriates, and fizzes up the drink it is sprinkled into. Not deadly, but the state it leaves you in could be. Deadly Pinchweed is ground up as well, and leaves a green tint—and is deadly.

“Lachrymose is a faerie fruit. As I’m sure you know, it makes a human agreeable and fogs their mind. It’s usually not prepared in any special way, just fed to glamoured humans.”

The name of the fruit brings back the memory of a boy, a bit older than you, who at a particularly wild revelry was fed faerie fruit, and buttered up by folk who thought it would be exceptionally humorous for the boy to make an audience with The King. Of course, the boy did, spewing nonsense at the foot of the dais, before going to wrap The King in a hug. A guard shot an arrow through his heart. He could not have been older than sixteen. Nut-hatch barred you from any form of revelry after that; she couldn’t spare her hard-raised shop worker over some faerie fruit. You fold the memory up neatly, compacting it so that you can keep it vibrant and alive in your mind. You solidify, in that memory, that Taehyun and every other wretched creature of his kind, would hardly blink twice to see you die such a death.

❉

Taehyun kindles a small but mighty fire with dry twigs and pine needles. You settle onto the ground, propping your back against a gnarled trunk and try to breathe out the ache in your back with each breath. You miss the way the mattress back at home base had cradled your body into sleep, and abhor the dirt and foliage that sticks to your pants and palms where they meet the ground.

Taehyun’s voice, returning from his last round of searching for pine needles, startles you. “Get up.”

You shoot him a look that, hopefully, channels all your exhaustion. “I just sat down,” you whine, exasperated.

“If you’re hungry, get up.” He says, narrowing his eyes at you. He has ditched his mantle cloak and his doublet, and now is only in his simple black tunic, its sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s serious, then.

You huff and complain, but stand up and dust off your palms and pants from the needles that stick to them. The especially deep indents itch a bit, and you soothe them as you follow him promptly into the thicker part of the woods.

“Lighten your feet,” Taehyun commands, his voice low, as a third twig snaps under your foot. You wince; trying to replicate the lightness of his walk, but it makes no difference. If anything, your gait is more off than before, now that you’re overthinking it. Taehyun stops walking, pointing to his feet, before slowly demonstrating his footfalls. “Tense your legs, and keep your weight on your back foot until the other is fully on the ground.”

You oblige, and can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as it works.

The two of you continue through the shrubbery and low-hanging branches, until Taehyun pauses, placing a finger over his lips. You see it now, too; a plump pheasant that pecks at the foliage, none-the-wiser. Taehyun reaches for his bow, and notches an arrow. He pulls the bowstring taut, centering his shot, and the arrow sings as he lets it fly.

The thud of the arrow piercing the pheasant makes your stomach flip. The pheasant cries, the arrow having pinned its wing and pierced through its stomach, but not killed it instantly. You avert your eyes as the scene burrows under your skin. Your heart sinks heavy like a stone in water. Taehyun’s hurried steps bound over toward the still squawking bird, and the sound of metal unsheathing is followed by a loud final cry, and then silence. Your muscles go rigid, and your nails dig deep crescents into your palm. You do not open your eyes, even as Taehyun announces in a whisper that he spots a second bird. The pheasant’s final cries bounce off the walls of your mind, reverberating and driving a stake into your hurting heart more with each echo.

❉

Taehyun ended up catching two other pheasants on the way back to the temporary campsite. You watch as they roast over the fire, yellow flames licking at their lightly charred bodies. Taehyun takes one off, passing it to you on a stick whittled sharp at the end. You shake your head, queasy at the thought of eating it.

He delivers you nothing but a cold resolve. “Respect its life.” He holds the stick there for you to take again.

“I’ll throw up,” you say, shaking your head again and wrapping your arms around your stomach.

He barks a laugh. “This is ridiculous.” He lets the stick drop back over the fire, and you flinch as embers flurry up into the air, and narrowly miss you. Attitude flares up in your chest, and you go to say something smart-mouthed, but before you can, he continues, “Go back, if you’re just going to become a waste of my time. You think you’re a spy under The King? I don’t see shit but a spoiled brat, who thinks life should be handed to her. If you wanted that, this was not the life to choose.”

You reel at the bite in his voice. His words cut right where it hurts. “You think so?” you say, willing back the hot tears that prickle your eyes. They would only prove his case. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know that you don’t know shit about being a spy,” he says, standing up. “I know that you’re weak, and for some reason think you’re ready for a world that is going to kill you, and that you should probably be on your way back to Homebase to tell them you were never cut out for this.”

You’re up to your feet in an eye’s blink, closing the space between you two. “Humans don’t have the privilege of being spoiled brats in your world,” you hiss. The warm sensation of a tear rolling down your cheek has you hoping that he doesn’t notice, and you reach up to wipe it quickly. You curse being an angry crier. “I’m doing what I can, with what I have. Just teach me what I need to learn, and I’ll learn it.”

“Eat the damn pheasant, then.” he urges, like a wild, roaring beast in a delicate bauble shop.

You laugh an exhausted laugh. “Would it kill you to have a little compassion? Just a little? I’ve never killed something, and then eaten it. It's… I think it’ll take me some time to get used to it. Just give me some time, yeah?” Your mind urges you to scream that the standards he is holding you to are unfair, that the two of you lived very different lives, and that you are going on this mission regardless of his haughty attitude, but you tidy those emotion-fueled words into something that Taehyun might like more.

He goes quiet. You sit for a moment, too, stewing in all your rehashed hurt. It isn’t just that he’s treating you like a burden, or the low-blows he seems to keep opting for. He’s unknowingly cutting down to your deepest worries, rubbing salt in the wound, that maybe you are never going to amount to anything more than a servant girl.

He unsheathes the longsword at his back, getting into a solid stance. “Show me you can be strong, then.” You hesitate. You’ve never so much as swung a sword, and the weight of it is heavier than you’d expect as you unsheath it. The metal hisses, and the handle of it is solid and plainly decorated in your palm. You replicate his stance, and shift the weight of the sword awkwardly in your hand, trying to find your grip

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you say, palms a bit sweaty against the cold metal, rocking in your stance. He swings hard, and the force of it colliding with your sword jolts you. It flies from your hands. You panic, frozen to the ground as he swings again. Your heart lurches as you realize he isn’t going to pull his swing.

Wind whooshes as his sword stops just by your face. He leaves it there, pointed right at your nose. “Pick it up,” he cocks his head toward your sword. You stare at him, wide-eyed, as you oblige. You both reset your stance, him barking commands every time he finds your stance or swing to be flawed. You accept his criticism with open arms—it is better than disdain painting his features.

You grit your teeth. You’re sheened in sweat, tugging for deep breaths, and your limbs are slow to recover from each blow he sends you. You’re twisting, dodging, and parrying how he tells you, but it's sloppy, and you have to summon your energy from already low reserves for each. His skin is irritatingly free of sweat, and still of that oddly cold and pristine quality. You had not noticed before how much it looks like frost twinkles under his skin.

Your back collides with a tree you had not noticed Taehyun was backing you into, air escaping your lungs in a big whoosh. He gains on you, pressing the long edge of his sword so that it sits mind-numbingly close to your neck. You can feel your pulse rushing in your neck, heart beating from your chest in an almost audible thudding. You continue to try and catch your breath. He swoops in so close that his breaths fan over your face. An emotion that you have a hard time reading flickers in his eyes, and then he’s slamming his mouth to yours.

It’s a desperate clashing of teeth and lips. He lets his sword drop from your neck and to the ground, and he takes your face in his callous-roughened hands. Your own find purchase at his shoulders, tugging him closer as if he could be any more so. The sound that escapes you as his hand tangles into the hair at the back of your head and tightens, tugging your head back and pressing in with more fervor, is like none you’ve ever made before.

When he pulls back for air, your vision swims around the edges, and is dappled with stars. He studies your face, and you’re suddenly more conscious than ever of how your cheeks burn and your lips are smeared with his kiss. He takes in your debased state. His eyes have more fire in them than you ever thought you’d see—swirling and ravenous, an innate need clawing to reach the surface . It’s a dizzying mixture of pure headiness and I shouldn’t be doing this. He dives back in, and each nip and lick at your neck is blazing. They electrify your veins and send shockwaves buzzing from the column of your throat and through your chest, zipping up and down every one of your limbs. You’re not even sure that, if Taehyun were to stop holding you fast to the tree, you would be able to stand on your wobbly and unreliable legs.

“Taehyun,” you gasp, your voice sounding not entirely your own. “Taehyun.”

“You piss me off so fucking bad.” He keeps one hand fisted at the back of your head, exposing your neck to him, but the other travels down your body experimentally. “And I have no idea why.”

Your mind wants to reel and dwell on that, but he doesn’t let you. He wanders a hand about the hem of your shirt, and then he dares to go underneath it, and then he trails that cold hand up the plane of your abdomen. Your stomach flips. “Have,”–you gasp–“have you considered that maybe you’re just an asshole?”

He draws back from ravishing your neck to give you a look, his eyes wild and untrained. It feels, for some odd reason, good to break down his impenetrable exterior—to puncture it down to where he is in his basest desires. Maybe it’s because you just need him to see you as something other than useless; to need you so badly that he forgets his contempt for you. He maintains eye contact as his thumb traces the swell of your breast, watches you gasp as he finds your nipple and rolls it under his thumb. His eyes set you ablaze, and he delights in the way you burn.

“What, you’ve got nothing to say to that?” you say, meeting all the intensity of his gaze the best you can. You try to goad him into something; even if anger, so that he’ll soothe the pounding between your thighs. He does not entertain you, just regarding you with that same blistering intensity. Your scalp begins to ache with the relentless tug of his fist, and you whimper, your hands leaving their place in his tunic to grab at his hand.

“You’re every bit the whiny brat I’ve known you to be,” he says. His voice is gravelly, as if even those few words were hard for him to formulate. Just as your chest had adjusted to the chill of his palm, he drags his fingertips back down your abdomen. The pads of his fingers rake over you, your skin prickling and alight.

“And you’ve got every bit of faerie entitlement in you,” you hiss. His hand pauses just above the waistline of your bottoms, and every bit of untamed need carved into his features is dust in the wind within a heartbeat. You reel at the loss of warmth as he pulls away. You try to reach out for him, to tug him back and wipe that awful indifferent look off his face again. But he’s already kicking out the fire and propping himself up against a thick pine tree. Your stomach churns wildly as you set up your own sleeping situation. The silence is worse than any you’ve sat through—it’s charged with words better left unspoken, and heavy with the weight of your hands all over each other seconds ago.

Sleep does not come easy to you, but when it does, you sleep dreamless and weary.

END PART 1

a/n: how was thatttt? my first fanfic!! i've been looking forward to doing a high fantasy/faerie fanfic for sooo long. i'm sorry to leave you off like that but.. know that I am plotting, and planning. i'm already working on part 2, so stay tuned!!

taglist: @lvrs-street2mmorrow

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