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ddivilove · 2 months ago

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Hai! May i request for beom taeha x fem! reader where reader is a librarian and receives cute notes in her books and she thinks that it must be some students messing with her but it turns out to be taeha who is actually obsessed with her (this is so cringe help😞)

୨୧ ﹒ LOVE IN LITERATURE.

➤ synopsis ﹕ literature is an art of many forms, but who knew that such art could be used for romance and courtship with a hint of wrongful stalking.

➤ warnings ﹕ semi - dark themes. involves stalking, mentions of murder, possessive & disgusting behaviour, age gap, vulgar words, mentions of implied masturbation, semi - explicit content. read at your own risk.

➤ the cast ﹕ beom taeha.

➤ author note ﹕ i don't really fully understand taeha, so if i mischaractise, which is might, i apologise ! i am trying my best, and this was fun to write, so i hope i did him some justice.

Literature. That was the world that Name lived in. Ever since she was young, she had wanted to be surrounded by the written works of creativity based on authors' imaginations.

Name worked in a small library, a library in town that was often slow in business. She rarely saw any newcomers. Only old visitors and friends. Not that she minded that, not at all. It was a hard thought about the change if new people began bursting through these halls. After all, she could barely rein the current book borrowers and library users to follow the rules.

She sighs as she opens the library again, her eyes lingering gingerly at the broken vase on the ground by the door. 'Some lunatic again.' She thinks as she enters the building. So many students come here to mess with her, it was tiring sometimes, especially when they break a thing or two while they're at it. As she cleaned up the pieces of broken clay, she heard the sound of someone approaching.

At this hour? She found it odd since most of the frequently appearing people of the city often showed up at noon until late afternoon hours. She turns around to see a young man.

Tall was not even going to cut it as it seemed as though he was towering her, almost like a giant. Even though he was tall, he looked no older than 25. He was probably a college student, she guessed quietly. His sharp silver, almost to the point of being white, eyes entranced her far more than she found comfortable. He had an atmosphere about him that made her think he's not a cheerful type.

"Hello, Miss." The young man says politely as he greets her with a smile, even though she saw right through that forced appearance. "Is the library open?"

She zoned out for a moment, but she got back to reality as she nodded in response. "Yes, yes it is." She responds quickly, embarrassed by her sudden zoning out. "You can go inside, and browse around if you'd like." At least he was polite, so she thought as she continued her work.

The male didn't really spare her a second glance after nodding, so she went back to cleaning the broken vase. When she entered the library, though, the male was nowhere to be found. She blinks, confused. She had seen him come in here, hadn't she? That was strange. She was definitely certain... unless she was going mad which could definitely be a possibility.

Perhaps it was the case of sleep deprivation, causing her to hallucinate again. I should get a check-up soon. She reminds herself as she sits on her chair by the front of the library. She looks at the clock. 9:36. She had some time to kill, it seemed.

She had been dusting the books when she returned to the desk to find a note attached to her book there that someone had given back after borrowing the day before. It had been a copy of a book filled with a compilation of sonnets by William Shakespeare.

She had read it before. It was indeed a clever way with words, but she never understood why people were so into reading them just for fun, but everyone has different tastes and takes on literary arts.

She slips out the note and unfolds it. It quoted the poem of Sonnet 18 in the books.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date."

"You are as beautiful as this poem, and even more so now that I've visited often to see you up close, Noona." It said at the end of the note in a cursive handwriting, befitting the impeccable taste of this mystery person.

She wonders who this person was. For one, she felt flattered, but she also felt incredibly perplexed by it all. It was not very often she be given notes of any sort, compliments, affirmations, or whatnot. Even more so, positive ones, she could recall a few negative notes from back then.

But this could all be a hoax, so she warns herself mentally not to be fooled. She had been played by pesky teenagers far too much in this place to fully trust and think this may be genuine. She tucks the note in her drawer before she grabs the stack of books and brings them back in their proper sections and shelves.

Day by day, the notes kept coming. Simple quotations of literature came alongside a compliment or two. Affectionate words that made Name's heart skip a beat sometimes. She still couldn't put a finger on who this mystery person was. All she knew was he was a man, but that's it. No other tell-tale of sorts.

She convinced herself that this was just another hoax made by those silly students once again. But her resolve was soon tested when letters slowly came with gifts of different prices. Sometimes food, or chocolates or even jewellery. Each was accompanied by a note filled with warmth that left her strangely curious.

As she picked up an emerald necklace from a box she had found in her drawer once again, she rethinks her original conclusion. Students wouldn't have this much money, would they? She admired the emerald's beautiful shining green colour. Unaware to her that there has been a man watching this entire time.

His lips curl into a smile, a sinister one that hele no good intentions. His gaze sweeped upward and then back down, memorising every curve her clothes showed vaguely, wondering how she looks with everything off.

His hands clench and then unclench in a way to surpress his fiery desires of claiming her and controlling them better. Soon. He thought to himself as he turned to pick up a book from any one of the shelves, choosing law to impress her. Even though he didn't know a lot about it, and his lifestyle goes against it.

Anything to talk to her. Ever since he first saw her, that was all he thought. He wants her, no, he needs her. His ache for her was overwhelming, and he needed to satisfy them desperately. It was the reason why he memorised his schedule. Her routines. Her actions were repeated every day. Committing to memory every single time like it was the first he's seen them, even though he's seen them practically a hundred times already.

His grip on the book tightens as he turns the corner and to the librarian's desk where she sat. A ghost of a smile appears on his lips when he notices that she is spacing out again like she does everyday at this same hour because of the slow shift at times like these. He stares at her for a few minutes as she mindlessly doodled on her little notebook.

He knew that was her diary, her journal where she drew her feelings out. She knew that there was trauma behind those drawings. Beyond that, impassive face was an abused fragile girl. And he knew he could use that to his advantage any day. But he won't, no, not yet. It was not time yet.

She looks up when she hears a clearing of a throat, her eyes widening by a fraction when she sees the man. Wasn't he the same one she saw a while ago? She knows he is that same man, his white-grey eyes told her enough. Those damn entrancing things.

"Excuse me, I'd like to borrow this book." He politely requests as she blinks out of her thoughts and quickly nods as she gets to work. Her fingers brushed against his as she took his library card and looked through it, cheeks flushing. That touch was electric, she thinks to herself. Incredibly so.

"Alright, you have a week before you have to return it." She responds quietly as she writes down the date of borrowing and when he would need to return it on the card and in her own record book. While she did so, she missed the man's lustful gaze towards her.

Beom Taeha. So that was his name. She heard of a few rumours on the Beom family. She wonders if they were true. Perhaps they were. He looks like the kind of man to do those things that his family's reputation is known for. She pushes the thought away half as quickly as she thinks it, though. She had no right to judge a man who she didn't know.

As she hands him back the card, their fingers brushed again, and she could've sworn she felt an electric rush against it. And so did he. He clears his throat again as he rubs the back of his neck. "Thank you, Ma'am. See you next week then." He bids her goodbye before he disappears out the door, leaving the flustered woman to figure her feelings herself.

She scolds herself quietly. That male looked no older than 25. It felt morally wrong. Plus, she never did like younger men, so why was she reacting this way? She wanted to bury a hole for herself and never get out. Meanwhile, Taeha makes a beeline for the hotel he stayed in. When he enters the room, he locks the door as he takes out a camera he had used to take some pictures of her.

His heated gaze increases in intensity when he sees the beautiful and perfect body that woman had. What was her name? Yes, Name Last/Name. His eyes linger to his fingers that had gotten fortunate enough to touch hers. He puts them to his lips and draws the tip of his tongue on them as if he could taste her.

"Hah... What am I going to do with, Name?" He asks to himself aloud as he unbuckles his belt, his "problem" springing out, ready to be dealt with. As he took care of himself, all he could think about was that he would have her. He won't take no for an answer. He will keep trying. That woman will be his. Body, soul, and mind. All will be his.

➤ taglist ﹕ n/a. ask to be added for future fics.

#{ ♡ heartstrings — fics }#tears on a withered flower #tears on a withered flower x reader #beom taeha #beom taeha x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #manhwa x fem!reader #manhwa #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere

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zerocoded · 5 months ago

Text

summary: you need a favor and beom taeha always have a way to be back on your life.

authors note: why haven't i seen ANY english work about this webtoon here on tumblr? i've been OBSESSED for a while and found out i could try to write a piece about it. i searched for fanfics of it before sleeping yesterday and was CRUSHED bc there isn't one. so this is my contribuition to the fandom, i hope at least one person will find this teehee.

banner credits: hyukkbie on pinterest. not mine! go check their profile, i swear is stunning!

warnings and tags: oc x beom taeha • reader x beom taeha • not na haesoo even tho she's a queen • i described reader with long dark hair at one point, sorry

word count: 3.1k

beom taeha’s voice sliced through the silence with a hint of stiffness, as if it had always been waiting for the perfect moment to unsettle you. whether the two of you were alone, sharing unspoken thoughts, or when your presence grew too much for him to handle, he always found a way to keep you on edge.

the suits he wore, the elegance he carried—none of it ever fooled you.

his every breath seemed measured, his movements precise, as though he was rationing the number of steps he could take in a day. and when you weren’t captivated by his breathtaking beauty, you found yourself quietly mourning the fragments of a boy who had never really been allowed to grow up.

whether the two of you were alone, sharing unspoken thoughts, or when your presence grew too much for him to handle, he always found a way to keep you on edge.

not that you had such a great childhood yourself—you hadn’t—but somehow, you’d managed to sidestep the darkness waiting to swallow fragile minds like yours and taeha’s whole.

you managed to suffer by the hands of an unknown man at the time, while for taeha that man was his own father. you were slightly more lucky than the two beom boys when it came to the experiments all of you were put under.

so, in a way, you were beom taeha’s shield, and that’s exactly why you were here now.

the ponytail guard sucked in a breath when he saw you, standing calmly in the center of taeha’s living room, the delicate crunch of rose petals under your heels filling the space. you wore a refined three-piece beige suit, its clean lines complementing the cascade of long dark hair framing your figure. stilettos gave weight to your graceful steps, while the soft touch of makeup subtly highlighted the elegance of your features.

for a few seconds, you and the guard stood in silence, locked in an unspoken exchange. a white stick rested between his lips, unmoving, and for a fleeting moment, it reminded you of beom taeha’s habit of sucking on a lollipop whenever he was excited. but even with the sweetness of the memory tugging at the edges of your mind, your face betrayed none of those emotions.

"who are you?" the guard asked, his voice rigid, the fifth-generation g22 aimed squarely at you as his face hardened with misplaced seriousness. his steps were deliberate, closing the distance in an attempt to intimidate someone who had clearly stood in front of a gun more times than he ever would.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, your gaze remained fixed on the taller man standing just beyond the bodyguard, tracing the familiar details of his face like an old, obsessed lover reliving a memory they couldn’t let go of. he didn’t meet your eyes immediately, calmly slipping off his shoes as if the scene unfolding before him was nothing but routine, as if the gun pointed at you was no more than a minor inconvenience.

beom taeha was calm—because he already knew who you were. hell, he probably was expecting you to come already after what happened.

“did beom taeju send you here?” taeha’s voice was calm, collected—completely detached from the idiot standing beside him, still holding you at gunpoint like a clueless accessory to this whole mess.

he shrugged off his dark coat and let it drape over his arm, his gaze settling on you with an air of disinterest, hands buried lazily in the pockets of his slacks, as if your presence had become just another inconvenience in his life. beside him, the ponytailed bodyguard glanced between the two of you, unsure if he should maintain the threat or quietly disappear from the room before things got worse. you met his gaze with the same dull disinterest taeha was throwing your way, both of you mirroring the exhaustion of a dance you’d long grown tired of.

before the guard could make a decision, taeha stepped forward, gripping the gun and gently lowering it, effortlessly disarming whatever false authority the bodyguard thought he had. the poor guy looked even more confused, defeated in a fight that never had a winner.

“please,” you sighed, the weight of the past slipping into your voice as you spoke, calm but bittersweet. “we both know your father hates me more than he does you.”

“right,” taeha chuckled softly, the shift in his expression perfectly aligned with the man you remembered. “so, you ran away just to be here?” he asked, the question curling off his lips with casual curiosity.

“it’s been a while since i’ve been on prison furlough,” you replied, your voice steady. “i didn’t exactly run away.”

“so, what brings you here? want me to kill your grandpa now?” he said it with such effortless nonchalance, as if it were as simple as ordering takeout. but even though you’d never been on good terms with the old man, you didn’t laugh. instead, you watched as taeha’s playful mask slipped, his expression shifting into something more serious when he realized you weren’t in the mood for nostalgic banter.

“why are you here, y/n?”

“just wanted to see you. it’s been a while,” you said, half-truths rolling off your tongue like second nature.

“right, that sounds like you,” taeha muttered, running his fingers through his dark strands as he circled the table separating the two of you. when he was close enough to touch you, he stopped, but instead of reaching out, he sank into the cushioned sofa next to your purse.

you watched him relax, unbothered by the mess of red petals scattered across his apartment floor. the ponytailed guard—jay, you knew him—stood by taeha’s shoes at the door, observing the scene with a fake, emotionless gaze, as if trying to decode the situation.

“young master?” jay finally spoke, as though he’d been waiting for an explanation of who you were or how you’d gotten here without so much as a scratch. but he didn’t get one. taeha ignored him completely, lazily gesturing for you to sit in the chair across from him.

with jay dismissed, you crossed the room and sat down without hesitation, your gaze never breaking from taeha’s.

“i think you know your apartment is clipped. i’d rather have this conversation outside,” you said, your tone carrying no hint of submission to the boy seated before you.

“are you taking me on a date, miss ryeo?” taeha smirked, his teasing sarcasm floating through the air like a strange perfume, coating his features in something that felt slightly off. “do you still have feelings for me?”

“please,” you scoffed, the sharpness of your words cutting through the room. “i am no do heejin.”

taeha didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you with quiet curiosity, as if trying to piece together the version of you sitting before him. it had been just under a year since the two of you last saw each other, and though you were never the type to be compared to heejin’s sweet, innocent love for him, both of you knew exactly how things had unraveled. the ties you shared were complicated, something far too close to love but tangled in despair instead.

“where do you suggest we go, then?” he finally asked, a trace of genuine interest flickering across his face. and he should be curious—after all, the two of you had cut each other off so abruptly that neither had time to consider the aftermath.

“somewhere your little dog won’t follow you,” you replied sharply, your eyes darting toward the bodyguard by the door, filled with nothing but disdain.

you knew exactly where he’d go once this was over.

taeha chuckled at your reaction, his laughter soft but amused, as if your distaste for his new guard was the most entertaining part of his day. “okay,”

protests spilled from the bodyguard’s lips, but you didn’t bother listening. instead, you found a small sense of relief in knowing that a flicker of taeha’s trust still rested in your grasp. with a simple flick of his fingers, he dismissed the worker without a second thought, then reached for your purse beside him, casually handing it over as if the two of you hadn’t just reopened old wounds.

little did taeha know, your words weren’t just a reflection of your usual disdain for men with guns. you knew jay—knew exactly why he was here. and that was the very reason you’d come to warn him.

as you slung your purse over your shoulder, taeha rose from the sofa with the same effortless grace he always carried, as if nothing in the world could ever really shake him. without a word, he led you toward the door, his hand barely grazing the small of your back, a silent gesture that reminded you he still knew how to navigate you in moments like this. the crunch of rose petals followed the two of you as you stepped into the hallway.

jay, of course, wasn’t far behind. you could hear the hurried shuffle of his shoes as he tried to catch up, his voice cutting through the air before you even reached the elevator.

“boss, i should come with you,” jay insisted, his tone laced with that overly eager loyalty you couldn’t stand.

taeha didn’t slow down, didn’t even glance back. instead, as the elevator doors opened, he gave a soft laugh, low and knowing, before turning his head slightly over his shoulder. “stay here, jay.”

the words were said with such casual finality that even jay, despite whatever stubborn determination he had, hesitated. you smirked as the guard stopped dead in his tracks, unsure whether to argue or obey.

the elevator doors closed, sealing jay out of whatever was about to come next. the ride down was quiet, the tension between you and taeha thick but familiar, as if the ghosts of your shared past were riding with you. when the doors opened, you followed him outside, where the cool evening air greeted you like a reminder of just how far the two of you had drifted from the people you used to be.

taeha’s car was waiting—a sleek, black luxury model that looked as untouchable as he made himself appear. you slid into the passenger seat, and soon, the hum of the engine filled the silence. the car wasn’t the same he used to drive when you both still dated, the change was a good thing considering the silence inside the vehicle. neither of you spoke during the drive, but the occasional glance from him didn’t go unnoticed. he was observing you, studying you, as if trying to uncover what you weren’t saying yet.

it wasn’t long before he pulled into a discreet side entrance of a dimly lit restaurant, the kind of place only those in the know would find. the valet barely blinked as taeha handed over the keys, and moments later, the two of you were escorted to a private room tucked away from prying eyes.

as you settled into the plush seat across from him, a glass of water already waiting at your side, taeha leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady and expectant. “so,” he said, breaking the silence with that familiar, smooth tone, “what exactly did you come to warn me about?”

you exhaled, fingers lightly tapping the edge of the glass as you met his gaze. “don’t trust lee jay. your father hired him to stalk you,” you began, watching the slight shift in taeha’s posture—still appearing relaxed, but the sharp glint of curiosity in his eyes betrayed him. “last week, the chairman went to my grandpa’s company,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with warning. “he reinforced cameras in all the hotels.”

taeha didn’t respond right away, but you could tell the gears in his mind were turning. his fingers drummed lazily against the armrest, though the air between you grew noticeably heavier. “hotels,” he repeated softly, as if weighing the significance of the move. “so, he’s extending his reach. monitoring me even outside the main properties.”

you nodded, leaning forward slightly. “it’s not just that. he’s got jay tailing you, waiting for a misstep. your father’s planning something—he’s paranoid, and he doesn’t trust the decisions you’re making.”

taeha chuckled, a humorless sound that sent a chill down your spine. “when does he ever trust me?” he muttered, shaking his head before locking eyes with you again. “but you’re not just here to warn me about him, are you?”

you hesitated for a second, but there was no point in dancing around the truth. “no. i’m here because if jay’s following you, it’s not just your father you should be worried about. there’s a bigger network involved, and if they’re watching you, they’re watching me too.”

taeha leaned back, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “you think you’re still that important to them?”

“i know i am,” you replied firmly. “because if you go down, i go down with you. and they’re not about to let either of us slip through the cracks again.”

“so… just because your grandpa runs the most hired security company out of the country, you end up knowing everyone’s secrets?” taeha’s tone was casual, almost amused, as if he’d expected nothing less from you.

“i’m not here to talk about that right now, taeha,” you replied, your voice sharp enough to cut through his smugness. his gaze lingered on you, waiting for what you’d say next.

you didn’t flinch. “you should stop meeting the woman you’re stalking,” you warned, the weight of your words settling heavily between you. “i know how this ends, and it’s not going to turn out well for her.”

taeha’s expression didn’t shift much, but you caught the brief flicker in his eyes—a mixture of realization and something darker, as if he was already aware of the potential fallout. “so, you know about na haesoo,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“of course, i do,” you said, folding your arms. “i’m a ryeo, i know all of the chaebol’s secrets. i’ve seen what obsession like this does, taeha. i’ve lived through it. don’t let her be collateral damage.”

he exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair, the tension in his shoulders betraying him for the first time. “it’s not like that,” he whispered, but the conviction in his voice wavered just enough to tell you otherwise.

“then make sure it doesn’t become that,” you shot back. “before taeju discards her. he is not going to merciful like he was with me, trust what i’m saying.”

“and what do you gain from telling me all this, princess?” there it was—the nickname. the one that always hit you harder than you wanted it to. your body tensed, a barely noticeable flinch that didn’t go unnoticed by taeha. his smirk deepened, eyes glinting with amusement. “do you really want me to kill your grandpa?” he added, a chuckle escaping as if the idea itself was ridiculous, yet somehow tempting.

“i need a favor,” you said, cutting through his teasing like a blade. your tone left no room for him to twist the conversation further. you knew how to play with beom taeha, and he didn’t seem to mind that sometimes.

taeha leaned against the window, arms crossed lazily over his chest as he studied you, his amusement slowly giving way to curiosity. “a favor,” he repeated, drawing out the word like it held more weight than you intended. “that’s why you came here. not to warn me out of the goodness of your heart.”

“warning you was part of it,” you admitted, stepping closer, your eyes locked on his. “but yes, i need something in return.”

“what kind of favor, y/n?” his voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge.

“my grandpa is selling me off for a marriage,” you said, the weight of the words draining your energy even as you spoke them. “the kim’s oldest son showed some interest. apparently, being too old and desperate for a woman made me the perfect choice.”

taeha raised a brow, leaning casually against the back of the booth as if your misery was just another piece of gossip. “you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend again?”

“not exactly,” you corrected, sighing. “i need to redirect my grandpa’s attention to the beom family again. just one date, that’s all. you show up, make him believe you’re serious about marrying me, and he’ll back off for at least a year.”

taeha tilted his head, his expression bored but not entirely dismissive. “except i won’t,” he said plainly. “i’m in love with another woman.”

“no shit, sherlock,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i said pretend, didn’t i? i’m not asking you to fall in love with me. i need you to act like you might.”

he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he weighed the proposition. “so, let me get this straight,” he muttered. “you want me to fake being madly in love with you, scare off the kim family, and keep your grandpa off your back. what’s in it for me?”

“i’ll make sure to wipe some images of you carrying your princess to the hotel last night,” you said simply, your tone steady as your eyes locked on his. “your dad won’t like that, so i’ll deal with it. give you a few weeks to slap that fake smile back on and maintain the illusion of happiness.”

taeha’s fingers drummed rhythmically against the table, the sound filling the heavy silence between you. the pause stretched long enough to make you wonder if he’d walk away from the deal. but then, just as you started to prepare a backup plan, he leaned back, a small smirk curving his lips.

“fine,” he said, voice low and deliberate. “one date. but don’t expect me to play the perfect fiancé for too long, princess. you better have your plan airtight.”

you exhaled quietly, relief hidden behind a neutral expression. “i always do,” you replied.

taeha chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you, his gaze playful but sharp. “and here i thought you’d outgrown me. turns out, you still know how to get under my skin.”

“oh, i never stopped,” you shot back, rising from your seat and grabbing your purse. “i just took a break.”

taeha laughed under his breath as he watched you walk away. “this is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

“as fun as pretending you’re in love with me can get,” you called back without turning around. “don’t be late.”

author's note: unrelated but i think do heeji is a BADDIE. i suck at endings, ik. PART TWO HERE. send me a request • my masterpost

#★ zrcdd works !#beom taeha #beom taeha x reader #beom taeha x oc #beom taeha fanfic #beom taeha fic #tears on a withered flower #tears on a withered flower fanfic #tears on a withered flower fluff #webtoon #korean webtoon #toawf #webtoon fanfic

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