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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 3 years

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Req: Izuku & Katsuki were soulmates. There was a 💥 mark on Izuku's arm. But then Katsuki got his Quirk. And their relationship soured. And the suicide-bait/dare made Izuku realize that he & Katsuki aren't meant to be together. Because your soulmate aren't supposed to hurt you, right? So the next day when Izuku checks his arm, he notices the 💥 is gone, replaced with a ❄️🔥 mark.

(Oooooooo let’s go!!! Imma preface this with this is not bakudeku! Warning for descriptions of explicit bullying)

'Kacchan!' Izuku exclaimed, spotting his friend on the other side of the playground. He wiggled his hand out of his mum's grasp and ran forwards, despite her shouting after him to wait a minute.

Izuku was excited though!

Over the weekend, his soulmark had finally appeared and he couldn't wait to tell Kacchan about it. When he had asked his mum about it, she had told him that soulmarks could appear anywhere and that they were unique to each individual - they also tended to reflect a person's quirk, which Izuku thought was super cool.

Of course, Izuku didn't have a quirk, so he didn't know what his soulmate's own mark would look like, but when he woke up Sunday morning and saw the orange mark of a detonating explosion bleeding across his forearm, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person his soulmate was.

'Kacchan!' He panted as he ran. However, when his friend turned around, a manic smile plastered to his face, Izuku skidded to a halt and stared at him with wide eyes.

Kacchan faced him, hands held out in front of him, palms up as small explosions emitted from them. Izuku watched as crackles of energy danced in the air around them, and instantly moved to trace the soulmark covering his arm.

My soulmate is...

'Oh look, it's Deku.' Kacchan smirked. 'Guess whose quirk showed up over the weekend! Unlike you, I have a quirk and it's the best ever!'

To accentuate his point, he set off a flurry of explosions as the kids around him cheered with excitement and wonder. Izuku winced slightly at the sound, but gathered the courage to speak up.

'That's a really cool quirk, Kacchan!' He smiled up at his friend. 'I got my soulmark yesterday too! Did you get yours?'

Izuku hadn't meant anything by it - just childlike curiosity - but Kacchan scoffed anyway and looked at him with disdain.

'I don't care about soulmarks, they're stupid!' He put special emphasis on the last word and sneered at Izuku, before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. 'After all, they've got it wrong. If my soulmate is a quirkless nobody like the mark on my arm says, then I don't want him.'

Izuku trembled as he looked down at his friend's arm to find the slightest smudge of green poking out from under his sleeve.

'Ka- Kacchan…' He hated the way his vision had started to blur. He knew how much everyone already loathed him for being quirkless, but it still hurt to hear his best friend say such mean words.

'Also, from now on you're going to cover your arm, Deku.' Kacchan continued, wrapping his hand around Izuku's soulmark and squeezing hard. 'If anyone finds out that I'm connected to you in any way, then I'll burn the mark off myself.'

Kacchan pulled away then and returned to the crowd of awaiting children, showing off more of his quirk. 'Got it?!'

Izuku nodded quickly. When the blonde vanished into his sea of admirers, he swallowed heavily and looked down at his feet, until his mum finally approached from his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Are you okay, sweetie?' She knelt down and looked at him, concerned. 'I was just talking to Aunt Mitsuki, apparently Katsuki got his quirk. Did you tell him about your soulmark?'

'He said he doesn't care about that stuff.'

'Is that why you're upset?'

'I'm not upset!' Izuku tried to smile at his mum reassuringly, but he was betrayed by the large tears that started to fall from his eyes. 'I promise, I'm okay.'

'Oh, Izuku.' She whispered, wiping away his tears before wrapping him in a tight hug. 'Was he being mean to you again?'

'No.' Izuku lied, burying his face in his mum's shoulder as small sobs escaped him.

'Baby, I can't help if you don't tell me.' She urged him, stroking his hair. 'I can always talk to your teachers or Aunt Mitsuki or-'

'Please don't.' He whispered. It wouldn't help anyway; his teachers knew what was going on, and if Kacchan found out Izuku had told on him, then that would make things worse. 'I'm fine!'

Izuku pulled back and wiped at his red eyes, before flashing his signature All Might smile. 'Everything's fine! Heroes don't cry!'

His mum tried to smile back, but her eyes were sad. In the distance, he heard a series of explosions, followed by laughter.

Kacchan is my soulmate… But soulmates are meant to love each other.

☀️

'What’ve you got there, Deku?' Kacchan smirked as he shoved into Izuku and yanked his notebook out of his hands.

'Kacchan, don't!' He pleaded, reaching out to try and grab his second hero analysis book. 'Please give it back!'

His friend laughed and held it high in the air so Izuku couldn't reach. He tried to get past him, gripping onto Kacchan's uniform to try and pull the notebook towards him.

'Oh, I don't think so.' He spoke dangerously.

This wasn't the first time this had happened - Izuku was used to having his things stolen as he was mocked for trying to get them back. He had recently gotten to the point where he had just accepted that Kacchan wasn't going to return any of the items, so had stopped putting up a fight when it happened. He couldn't just do that now though. His hero analysis books were important! He needed it back!

'Please, Kacchan! Please give it back! I'm begging you!' He cried, fearful tears streaming down his cheeks.

'Hey, stop crying!' Was all the response he got before a rough hand wrapped around his wrist and he was pushed to the ground, small explosions shooting across his skin like needles. Izuku didn't cry at the pain though. He had long since gotten used to the feeling of his soulmate's blows. After all, he had the mark branded onto his skin to remind him.

He tried to scramble to his feet but was stopped by two of Kacchan's cronies, who had each put a foot on his arms to hold him down. He could do nothing but stare as his friend moved to stand over him, flipping open the notebook and scanning the pages.

'"The offensive strategies used by All Might and how it gives insight into the true nature of his quirk."' Kacchan huffed, before looking away to meet Izuku's gaze. 'What the fuck is this, Deku?'

'M- My hero analysis book.' He stuttered out. 'I'm writing down things about heroes and quirks, that's all. Please give it back. I'll do anything!'

The grin that appeared on Kacchan's face was enough to turn Izuku's blood cold. He swallowed heavily and stared up at him, apprehension evident on his face.

'Anything?'

Izuku sighed, resigned to whatever fate they chose for him, and closed his eyes.

'Yes. Just give me my book back, please.'

Smirking, Kacchan opened the book once more and ripped a page out, eliciting a cry from Izuku. 'Wait! What are you doing?! I-'

He was cut off when Kacchan suddenly crouched down and hovered over him, crumpling the page up into a ball and holding it out.

'Eat it.'

Izuku froze.

'W- What?'

'I said,' His friend began sweetly, 'Eat it, Deku!'

His companions sniggered from above. 'You want your precious notebook back? You're gonna get it back.'

Fresh tears welled up in Izuku's eyes as his mouth was forced open.

That evening, when his mum asked him why he was late home, Izuku said nothing; numerous paper cuts stung the inside of his mouth. Once he made it to the bathroom, finally allowing his nausea to consume him, he felt himself scratch at the soulmark mocking his arm.

Was his life always going to be like this?

☀️

'If you wanna be a hero so bad, there's actually a really good way!' Kacchan spoke from the door of the classroom. 'If you believe they're holding your quirk over in the next world, you should just dive off the rooftop!'

Izuku fished his ruined hero analysis notebook out of the pond. Really, he should keep his books at home, but he could never bring himself to do it - what if he missed something important because he hadn’t been able to write it down? Additionally, even after over a decade, Izuku’s love for documenting heroes far outweighed his fear of Kacchan, much to the latter's distaste.

'That's not food, stupid fish.' He sniffled as he pulled the book out of the pond, water dripping from the damp pages and trickling down his arm. Izuku winced as his wet sleeve stuck to him, before rolling them up as he fruitlessly tried to dry his notebook.

As he worked, the bright orange mark on his arm shone out of the corner of his eye, staring at him; judging him. Izuku tried to ignore it, but it was no use. He dropped the book onto the stone edging of the pond, watching as liquid seeped out from under it, before he sat down next to it. He held his arm out in front of him and inspected the soulmark that he had grown to hate even more than Kacchan.

We're not meant to be together, we both know it. He traced the raised skin, surrounded by actual scars left by Kacchan's explosions. The orange shone among the mass of silver.

I hate him. I truly hate him for everything he's done. No matter how hard I try, all he does is hurt me. So why? Why are you here? I don't understand. If this is meant to be a destined love, then I'm sorry but I don't want it. The moment I knew it was him, I didn't want it.

Izuku leant forward and held his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Please...

🌙

Shoto woke with a start, drenched in sweat from another nightmare. Instead of his father or whistling kettles though, he had dreamt of explosions, of singed skin and red eyes. He wondered what it had meant.

He panted heavily and blinked as he adjusted to the morning sun that illuminated his room.

'Fuck sake.' Shoto muttered to himself, raising an arm to block the rays shining directly onto his face. However, a dark shadow covering his forearm immediately caught his attention. Eyebrow raised and nightmare completely forgotten, he brought his arm towards him to inspect the mark. 'What the..?'

There was a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin, strings of crimson wrapped around the emerald like vines as the mark spanned the majority of his arm.

Shoto knew about soulmarks and soulmates - they spoke enough about it at school that the subject had been begrudgingly ingrained into his memory. He just… never expected to have a soulmark himself. His old man always told him that soulmates were a distraction and that it was a good thing that Shoto's mark never presented. Personally, he didn't have that strong of an opinion on the topic. After all, life had taught Shoto never to expect anything good anyway - or else he'd be greatly disappointed - so it made sense that he would be cursed to be alone as well.

He continued to stare at his arm as the fingertips of his other hand traced the bolts of green lightning with interest.

Would it be so bad as to hope that his soulmate was a kind person?

☀️

Izuku's back hit the wall with a loud thud. He trembled violently as Kacchan stood over him, his grip tight on his UA uniform collar.

'You bastard.' His old friend snarled. 'Not only have you been hiding your quirk all these years, but now you pull some bullshit and somehow manage to switch soulmates? What the fuck is going on, Deku?'

'I-' Kacchan was really asking him that? 'I thought you didn't want me for a soulmate anyway?'

'Like hell I do!' He yelled in response. 'I'm glad I don't have that ugly mark on my arm anymore, but I wanna know how you did it!'

'I didn't do anything!' Izuku begged him to understand. He really hadn't done anything. He had just woke up that morning, ready to start his first day at UA, when he realised that the orange explosion that had littered his arm was gone, replaced as if it had never been there at all.

Izuku remembered tracing the new mark, a silver snowflake that was half alight with scarlet flames. He had no idea what had happened for it to change, but he silently thanked whoever or whatever was responsible for it. As long as it wasn't Kacchan, Izuku didn't mind who he was destined to be with.

'Stop lying!' His friend suddenly exclaimed, causing him to jump. 'Show me your arm! I wanna see what-'

'Is there a problem here?' A new voice suddenly spoke. The grip on Izuku's collar loosened as Kacchan turned to regard the newcomer, vexed at having been interrupted. Curious, Izuku leant past the blonde to see who had spoken.

Stood in the doorway of the otherwise empty classroom was one of their new classmates - Todoroki Shoto, if he remembered correctly.

...

Who was he kidding? Of course he remembered correctly. The moment he had first locked eyes with the dual-quirk user earlier that day, Izuku had practically swooned. He was, in every sense of the word, gorgeous, after all.

Now though, that beauty, along with his cold stare, felt so intimidating that Izuku found himself unable to meet his eyes, even if the glare wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, he watched Kacchan, waiting for his response.

'None of your business, Icyhot.' He sneered. 'Deku and I were just talking.'

'Really?' A white eyebrow rose as their classmate looked on, unimpressed. 'Seems to me that Midoriya clearly doesn't want to be here. He certainly doesn't look keen to show you his arm either.'

Izuku jumped at that and found himself gripping at his sleeves defensively.

'I don't give a shit if he doesn't want to be here. I'm getting answers, even if I have to beat it out of him!' Kacchan let off a bunch of explosions from his palm to emphasise his point; Izuku winced from the proximity.

'I don't think so.' Todoroki stepped into the room fully. 'I think you're going to get your things and leave, unless you want me to go get Aizawa-Sensei, or maybe All Might.'

Kacchan stiffened at the mention of the two heroes. Sure, in middle school he had all the teachers wrapped around his little finger, but they both knew UA was different; Aizawa especially wouldn't be as easy to fool.

Izuku watched as the two stared each other down, before Kacchan finally tsked and pushed himself away from the wall.

'This isn't over, Deku.' He called as he sauntered past Todoroki and out of the door.

The moment he was out of sight, Izuku sighed heavily as his legs buckled beneath him. He slid down the wall and landed on the floor clumsily, legs extended out in front of him.

He heard Todoroki call his name, but he sounded so far away. It wasn't until a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder that Izuku realised how close his classmate had gotten.

'Midoriya.' Todoroki stared at him with dichromatic eyes that held so much emotion despite his stoic countenance. 'Are you alright? Did Bakugou hurt you?'

Izuku blinked dumbly for a moment, before shaking his head. No one his age had ever cared enough to ask him that.

'N- No, I'm okay.' Izuku assured.

I've had worse.

'Why-' Izuku began, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. 'Why did you help me?'

'It's a hero's job to help, isn't it?' Todoroki replied, albeit his guarded look seemed to falter slightly as he considered his next words. 'Also… I wanted- I wanted to talk to you too, if you don't mind?'

'Wanted to talk? T- To me?' Izuku pointed to himself and tilted his head to the side. When Todoroki nodded, he found himself mirroring the action. 'O- Okay…'

Pleased with his answer, his classmate stiffened his posture as he prepared himself. 'I have no intention of making friends at this school. UA is merely a stepping stone for me to become a hero.'

Okay…

'That being said,' Todoroki continued to stare at him intensely. 'I can't simply ignore you, Midoriya. I saw the mark on your arm when we were changing into our costumes earlier.'

Izuku's eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. While part of his mind was screaming about the fact that Todoroki had watched him change, the other part was freaking out that he had seen his soulmark.

Before he could say anything though, Shoto rolled up his sleeve to show a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin. Sure, it could be Izuku, he thought, but only because it was green.

'I think we're soulmates.' Todoroki continued. 'My mark only appeared today, and Bakugou was bitching about how his had vanished. Plus, yours is pretty obvious considering my quirk is half hot, half cold, so...'

He trailed off, noticing how Izuku had started to tear up. ‘Midoriya?’

'You…' He whispered. 'You're…'

'Apologies if you're disappointed, but-'

In a moment of boldness, Izuku cut him off by throwing himself forwards and wrapping Todoroki in a tight hug. His classmate froze at the contact, arms glued to his sides.

'I'm sorry for not asking first.' Izuku mumbled, chin bouncing on his shoulder as he spoke. 'I'm just- I'm so happy. Thank you.'

'You don't even know me.' Todoroki murmured, confused. 'You might hate me. I could be a terrible person.'

'No, you're not.' Izuku laughed. 'You don't know me either, but you stepped in when Kacchan was bothering me. No one's ever done that before, I'd say that's a good start.'

He considered his next words. 'Plus, if the universe is giving me a second chance, I’d like to think they got it right this time.'

Several more moments passed, before Izuku realised Todoroki looked slightly uncomfortable and gingerly withdrew. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. 'Sorry about that.'

'No.' The slight blush on Todoroki's face was pretty, Izuku noticed. 'It's just… I haven't.' He sighed and scratched his cheek. 'That's the first hug I've had in a while. It was… Nice.'

Izuku beamed at that.

'Well, as your soulmate, you've won a lifetime supply of free hugs if you ever need them!'

The corner of Todoroki's lips twitched upward and Izuku silently thanked whatever force of nature was responsible for allowing him this unexpected happiness.

'I might take you up on that, Midoriya.'

#AgarJelly writes #tododeku #platonic tododeku #anti bakugou #anti bakudeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #bakugou katsuki #tw: bullying #soulmates #soulmarks #bnha #mha

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glassbangtan · 5 years

Text

who they say you are {Kim Taehyung x Reader}

Words: 9.7k

Summary: Sewing is something you should be good at, but you’re not. It’s as simple as that - you just can’t do it. So, you are quick to snatch up Kim Taehyung’s offer of teaching you the basics.

Genre: fluff - slight angst - historical!au

Warning: a lot of old-time views in this one lads

Notes: masterlist - buy me a coffee!

---

“Miss Beckett, I really can't do this.”

The teacher didn't even give you a glance this time. She kept her back to the classroom, too busy scrawling on the chalkboard to care about one of her students struggles.

You frowned, looking down at the piece of fabric in your hand; it was badly twisted at this point, the navy blue string having got tangled halfway through – you hadn't noticed the mistake and continued sewing, meaning all of the fabric was folding in on itself.

This happened most days; sewing was certainly not your favourite class. Your finger got pricked on the needle too many times to be comfortable, forcing you to spend half the day wiping blood on the jumper of your school uniform. Miss Beckett tried her hardest to help you understand the rules and decorum of sewing, but you were certain by now that you were just a lost cause.

“Miss Beckett,” you said again, looking up. “I really messed up this time.”

Miss Beckett's fingers tightened around the stick of chalk. Even from her side profile you could see the tensing of her jaw, though it quickly disappeared when she finally turned to look at you, replaced by that beaming smile of hers. Her dark grey eyes were watery and blood shot, and her curled blonde hair was stuck up from where she'd ran her hands through it only seconds prior.

Slowly, she walked over and inspected your work. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes hardened. “How did you manage this, Y/N?”

“It was an accident,” you replied. “I think I looped the stitches-”

Miss Beckett grabbed the fabric out of your hand. The swipe was a little too rough to be called calm, but Miss Beckett tried her hardest to keep up the charade of being the kind and patient teacher she was meant to be. Nonetheless, you sensed her anger and slid further down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest. The other girls in your class were trying not to snicker, sitting straight backed, as they always did.

Miss Beckett tapped your shoulder as she inspected the damage. “No slouching in my classroom.”

You shimmied back up. “Sorry.”

“You're going to have to start again,” Miss Beckett said. “I don't see any point in trying to fix it now; you really must be more careful, Miss L/N. We're running low on supplies as it is without having to give you extra.”

“Sorry, Miss Beckett.” You tried for a smile. “I'll try harder next time.”

“That you will,” she grumbled. “Next time you step out of line, it'll be the ruler across the knuckles giving you a punishment, not just me.”

You nodded, watching her leave. Looking down, the bruises on your knuckles from your last punishment were still healing; the next set would surely cause some permanent damage, and you really didn't want that.

“Okay class, break time has started,” Miss Beckett announced. “We'll be looking at some recipes when you get back.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Gathering up your stuff, you headed out onto the playground and immediately went straight for your little hiding place, as far from the girls building as possible. It was just outside the boys building, though none of the male teachers would be able to see you; if one of the students saw you, you wouldn't mind. They weren't touts.

The day was already off to a bad start. Finally being alone gave you unexplainable relief as you tucked yourself into the tiny little alcove, folding your legs to your chest, leaning your head back against the bark; bugs would be crawling in your hair in no time, but you didn't care at the minute. That would only be an issue when one of the teachers saw it, but until then, you would bask in the pleasantries that came with having to deal with no authority figure.

You wanted to be like all the other girls.

It was a sad thought, but it was the truth. From a young age, your parents taught you that you were going to be raised as every other girl was – you were to become a wife, cook the food, bare the children. That was the path set out for you, and yet you stumbled as you walked along it. You were getting older now, teenage years nearly in your past, and yet you still couldn't do the things all the other girls seemed to do with ease.

Sewing was the bane of your existence, but it was a necessity.

You cooking was a danger in and of itself, but it was a necessity.

You didn't know the types of things men enjoyed, but again, this knowledge was a necessity if you were to ever grow up and be the good, homely wife everyone expected you to be.

You squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your forehead into your knees. You would just have to work harder, study for longer hours, maybe get some help off some of your classmates, even though they didn't like you. You were the girl who didn't know basic etiquette – that confused them. They came from households that drilled this kind of knowledge into their heads at a very young age – your mother and father had been a little late in their realisation that being a wife was your end goal, as it always should have been.

A groan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

Your eyes shot open, body lurching to the side to get away from the loud voice that just boomed to your left. The boy kneeling by the door was covered in leaves and brambles, his puffy brown hair adorned with broken twigs. His broad shoulders could barely fit in the door, and so he looked to you for help.

You narrowed your eyes, staring back at him. “Who are you?”

“I'm a little stuck,” he said. “Could we maybe do the introductions later?”

You hesitated for only a second before the silence got too overbearing and you suddenly felt the need to do something. You reached over, grabbed his outstretched hand and tugged; he came free from the door, landing in a heap at your side. His knee brushed against your own – you hastily shuffled away, continuing to stare at him in confusion.

“Who are you?” you repeated.

“My name's Kim Taehyung,” he replied, brushing moss from his uniform. If you had done the same thing, Miss Beckett wouldn't have just taken the ruler to your knuckles – this carelessness called for the punishment of humiliation, if nothing else. “What about you?”

“Y/N L/N.”

His eyebrows shot up, weirdly well shaped for someone who didn't seem to care about etiquette whatsoever. “Is that right? You're the girl everyone's been talking about, huh?”

You blinked. “I suppose.”

Taehyung nodded, settling down against the wall. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and you couldn't help but notice the tiny little smile playing on his face as he spoke; you wondered what there was to smile about.

“Yeah,” he said. “I've heard about you. Not too good at your classes, are you?”

“I don't think I'm awful.”

“I never said awful.” He opened one eye, looked at you. “I said you're not too good.”

You huffed, turning away. “If you've come in here just to insult me, I'll have you know that this is my den and I did not invite you in.”

Taehyung giggled. Giggled. “Does it make you angry that I'm in here?”

“N-not angry, but-”

“Oh yes.” Taehyung clicked his fingers above his head, as if just realising something big. “Girls aren't allowed to get angry. I forgot about that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Who told you that?”

“I've witnessed it with my own two eyes,” he replied. “You think that stupid little wire fence can keep us from seeing what you ladies do on your breaks? You're so passive with each other, it nearly makes me feel ill.”

“Oh? Have you just admitted to peeping on us during break times, Mr Kim Taehyung?”

Taehyung grinned. “I won't lie.” He rolled his head towards you. “It's difficult to keep my eyes off some of you.”

You bit your lip and looked away; this was the kind of behaviour Miss Beckett was forever warning you against. Boys and their flirtations – you needed to focus on your studies. You needed to figure out how to do everything else before you even thought about throwing yourself into a relationship – and certainly not with someone as brash as Taehyung.

He sighed at your silence, looking back up through the canopy of leaves shielding you from view of passers-by. “So tell me, Y/N – why is your poor little finger all bloodied up like that?”

You looked down, hiding your hand beneath your leg. “No reason.”

Taehyung raised a brow. “It looks quite painful. Do you want me to fix it up?”

“I'm fine.”

“Was it from your sewing classes?”

You narrowed your eyes, glancing at him; he wasn't even looking at you as he spoke, simply staring up at the ceiling with a slightly dazed expression on his face. It was only now, when you were no longer afraid to look at him, did you realise just how dishevelled he really looked; his uniform had been put on with complete abandon by the looks of things, his canary yellow blazer stained with dirt, his white shirt rumpled beneath it. His striped tie was pulled to the side, revealing a lick of tanned collarbones that were, too, stained with dirt.

However, it wasn't just his uniform that was suffering. His brown hair was like a mop, feathery atop his head, not styled in the usual slicked back style you knew most boys to wear. Though the boys side of the school was much more lenient with what they let their students do, you knew they were fairly strict on appearances. How Taehyung was getting away with all of this was completely beyond you.

Part of you even admired it.

With your silence, Taehyung looked at you. “You don't talk much, do you?”

“What?”

“I asked you a question.” He snickered. “Lost in your own world, little lady?”

You scowled. “What did you ask?”

“I asked about your sewing classes.”

“They're fine.” You awkwardly rubbed your bloody thumb against your wrist. “I'm just. . . not very good at it yet.”

Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “Are you asking me for help?”

Your head snapped up. “What? No! When did I say that?”

“You didn't need to. I heard you loud and clear!” He pushed himself to his knees, too tall to stand up. Even just halfway up, his head was brushing the leaves. “I'm very good at sewing. Very, very good.”

“They don't teach boys sewing,” you pointed out.

“Not in school, but boys can teach themselves if they want to.”

“How do you have that kind of free time?”

Taehyung frowned, glancing down at you. You simply shrugged, to which he rolled his eyes and pointed at the white shirt he was wearing. “See this? I made it on my own.”

You would be lying to say you weren't shocked at this little revelation; the shirt looked store-bought. Yes, it was dishevelled and crumpled, but it was in one piece and it looked comfortable enough. It fit against his chest perfectly, hanging off his frame just the right amount to look purposefully lazy.

He grinned, noticing your startled expression. “You seem surprised.”

“I am,” you said. “How did you make that on your own?”

“Practice,” he replied. “So what do you say? I'll help you out with your sewing every day after school.”

You eyed him. “What's in it for you?”

He grinned. “A nice bit of company.”

You found that exceptionally hard to believe, but you had no time to argue before Miss Beckett's voice was ringing out across the yard, demanding the girls to file up at the door. You stared back at Taehyung for a moment longer; he glanced over his shoulder, regarded his own form tutor standing patiently by the doors before turning back to you with a sharp, raised eyebrow.

“What do you say?”

You bit your lip. Miss Beckett called out again. You had to make your decision now.

And there was so much wrong with it; why was he being so nice to you? Why was he offering up his precious time to a person he barely even knew? It was confusing, and you were determined to get your answers, but for now, you just needed to seal the deal.

Hesitantly, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and stuck your hand out. “Deal.”

Taehyung glanced at your offered palm, a slow smile appearing on his face before he shook it. “Great. See you after school, Y/N L/N.” ---

Boys didn't usually make you nervous.

For one, you had no interest in them. Thanks to Miss Beckett and other teachers at your school, you'd been taught that boys should not be a priority at this age; yes, you were growing older. Soon, you would be expected to move out and start a family of your own, but for now, your studies should be the priority.

Secondly, you didn't exactly interact with boys your age that much. Your school was split into two buildings; the boys side, and the girls side. The two buildings were split by a wire fence, and the only time you ever caught a glimpse of the boys was when you were in your hiding place, waiting for the bell to ring. They would come pouring out the front doors, pushing each other and fighting over footballs – it was a direct contrast to the calm and quiet yard of the girls school.

But now, as Taehyung led you towards his front door, you were feeling the effects of what were undeniably nerves. You kept your hands tucked in your pockets, your head down, made very little attempts at conversation – Taehyung didn't seem to mind. The man was strange like that. He walked with a skip in his step, even as you passed the group of whispering girls who were pointing in your direction; you recognised them from school. They were the year below you, and clearly found the sight of you and Taehyung walking together to be something quite scandalous.

Which it was.

You weren't meant to be associating with boys just yet. Word would surely get back to Miss Beckett, and she'd scold you for prioritising a boy over the studies you were so dramatically failing at. She would take a ruler to your knuckles, humiliate you in front of-

“My mother's in.”

Taehyung's voice snapped you out of your daze. He was looking down at you, a slight arch to his brow.

“Is that alright?”

“Of course,” you replied, quickly flattening down the front of your uniform. “Should I have brought something? Maybe I should have gone home and changed into something a little more-”

“It doesn't matter.” He chuckled, amused at your sudden flustered state. “She won't mind what you're wearing, and she doesn't expect to be showered in gifts. Come in.”

You hesitated, but knew you had no choice. The girls from the year below you were still staring, whispering amongst themselves, pointing at you. You glanced at them only one final time before scrambling in the front door of Taehyung's home.

And a pleasant home it was.

It was nothing special. His mother was a baker, you were aware, having visited her shop on multiple occasions. She baked the loveliest little lemon cakes, and stepping in the front door of her home brought you back to the first time you tried them; though the scent was shadowed by a mixture of other things, the unmistakeable smell of said lemon cakes was present.

You found yourself smiling, trailing your hands along the slightly bumpy wallpaper. Taehyung bounded directly into the kitchen, throwing open the door with a yell of, “I'm home, mother!”

“Oh, Taehyung, quiet down! The neighbours are already chewing my bloody ear off about all the noise!”

You trailed after Taehyung. He was hugging his mother when you walked in – a small woman with shoulder length brown hair and a pointed chin. Taehyung was much taller than her, so much so that he now rested his chin upon her head, twisting from side to side as he embraced her.

You awkwardly stood by the door, keeping your head down.

“And who is this?” Taehyung's mother asked, pulling away from her son. She gave you a warm smile, definitely not the reaction you'd been expecting. “I didn't know you were bringing guests home, Taehyung.”

“Mother, this is Y/N.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you stifled the urge to gasp at the contact; what would Miss Beckett say to this? “She's here to learn how to sew.”

His mothers eyebrows shot up. “To sew? Do they not teach young ladies that down at the school?”

“Oh, they do,” you said. “I'm just not very good at it.”

You expected her to laugh at you, just like everyone else did. The idea of a woman not being able to sew was so uncommon these days that any woman who couldn't handle a needle and thread was seen as incompetent, a joke, a hindrance on society because what else could they possibly be good for?

But Taehyung's mother simply nodded. “I wasn't very good at it, either, darling. I wouldn't worry about it.” She turned to Taehyung. “Are you gonna show her some of the stuff you've made?”

Taehyung shrugged, glancing at you. “If that's something she'd be interested in.”

“I'd love to,” you replied, and you really meant it.

Taehyung smiled before turning back to his mother, his arm still wrapped round your shoulders. “Well, I guess we should get going. Call me if you need anything, alright?”

His mother nodded, turning back to the cookies she'd previously been baking with nothing more than a thumbs up to send you off; it was so bizarre. This was something you couldn't help but think as Taehyung steered you out of the kitchen and led you upstairs to his room.

Your parents would never allow this kind of thing. A boy in your room? It was unheard of, nearly laughable to think about. They would be utterly furious if they were to find out you were heading into a boys bedroom without his mothers supervision; this was definitely something you would have to keep to yourself for now.

Taehyung's room was nothing special. These days, people couldn't really afford special. The war was going on, and things weren't cheap any more – however, it was nice for what it was. Plain grey walls, a white ceiling with the paint chipping off onto the dirty brown carpet. His bed was a single, freshly made with dark red covers. Beside it, he'd kicked his brown work boots to the side. Now, you watched as he did the same with his black school shoes, volleying them across the room.

“Feel free to take your shoes off if you want,” he said, walking towards his wardrobe. “Comfort is key, after all.”

“So they say,” you muttered, wrapping your blazer a little tighter round your shoulders. “Your room is lovely, Taehyung. Very cosy.”

He grinned, ducking into his wardrobe as he did so. You were given only a brief flash of the boxy grin he'd shown you so many times before; it was one you weren't sure you would ever get enough of. Despite seeing it all day, you were still disappointed by the missed opportunity to see it again.

“It's small,” he said. “But I like it that way. Keeps the heat in, you know?” He pulled away from his wardrobe holding a denim jacket. Little patches were sewn into the denim, unlike anything you'd ever seen. Almost carelessly, Taehyung tossed it over his shoulder onto the bed, before ducking back into his wardrobe.

You walked over and picked up the garment. It was heavy, the denim slightly damaged and crinkled, but it was beautiful nonetheless. The patches were of different patterns; plaid, little swirls, one even containing a cluster of stars on some dark purple cloth. He'd somehow managed to stitch them together before plastering them onto the shoulder of the jacket.

“Have you always been a fan of fashion?” you asked, running your fingers along the seams. “You're awfully talented.”

“Why, thank you,” he replied, voice muffled. “I tend to get very bored when I have to wear the same thing over and over, so I just. . . jazz it up every now and then to keep things interesting.”

You frowned. “Jazz it up?”

“You know.” He glanced at you. “I add stuff to it. Some patches, some beads, sequins – I just change the style of it to stop my fashion getting stagnant.”

“What an interesting concept. You must save thousands.”

Taehyung scoffed. “It's not about the money. If it were up to my mother, she'd be buying me a new jacket every other week – she always says I grow out of my clothes quicker than a newborn.”

You giggled. “You are tall.”

Taehyung stood up, revealing just how tall he really was. “I think I've stopped growing by now. Mum just likes to be dramatic because I'm taller than her.” He took the denim jacket out of your hands. “You like this?”

“I think it's wonderful,” you replied, a hint of wistfulness in your voice. “I would never be able to hide the stitches like you do – that's something Miss Beckett is forever telling me to work on.”

Taehyung raised a brow. “Is that right? Well, it looks like we've got our first lesson sorted out, then.”

You started. “What?”

“Sit down. I'll go get my things.”

He didn't give you a chance to say anything else. He shuffled out of the room, leaving you entirely on your own in a bedroom you were unfamiliar with – the bedroom of a boy with whom you barely knew.

You hesitantly sat down on his bed, biting your lower lip. You glanced around as if expecting your parents to jump out of the wardrobe and catch you in the middle of such a taboo act, but you would be lying to claim there was no thrill that came with it. It wasn't quite the thrill of rebellion – that provided more anxiety than anything else. It was more so the thrill of being in Taehyung's room that excited you.

You barely knew Taehyung. The two of you had not conversed in any way, shape or form throughout your time at school, but you'd heard about him. Most girls in your class had heard about him, because he was him. The rebellious little kid who somehow excelled in all his classes even though he did the absolute bare minimum. Rumours spoke of him kicking his muddy feet up on the desk, lounging back even as the teacher stared at him from the front of the classroom. You'd seen his ragged uniform for yourself. You'd heard his loud laughter and boisterous, confident singing from over the fence during break.

Yes, Taehyung certainly didn't keep himself subtle.

And you were sitting in his room. You were waiting on him to come back so he could help you with your studies – it was so bizarre.

Taehyung arrived not five minutes after leaving, carrying a tray of nick nacks with him. “Sorry I took a while. Mum was asking me about you.”

You sat up straight. “She was? Should I go? Does she not want me here-”

Taehyung sat beside you. His shoulder brushed your own, and your words immediately caught in your throat. “Calm down, Y/N. It was nothing like that. She was just asking me if you were staying for dinner, and I said no.”

You deflated. “Oh. Good.”

“Unless you want to.” He reached into the little blue tray and pulled out a dark blue thread and needle. His forehead creased when he brought the needle up to his eye and started to push the thread through the tiny little hole.

“I don't think my parents would like me being out so late,” you replied, watching him closely. “How do you do that so easily? Getting the thread through the needle's eye is difficult even for Miss Beckett.”

Taehyung grabbed your hand, placing the thread in your palm. “Practice makes perfect, my dear. Now, follow my instructions, okay? You're going to walk into class tomorrow knowing more about the needle and thread than even Miss Beckett herself.”

---

“Miss L/N, I love what you've done with your piece this morning. Have you been practising?”

You looked up from your needlework, giving Miss Beckett the most genuine smile you could conjure up – in truth, you were nervous. You had spent at least four hours at Taehyung's house last night, allowing him to explain everything he thought you needed to know. There were even some moments where he'd leaned over and guided your hand for you, which was a most pleasant yet terrifying experience; especially considering you were in his bedroom.

“A little bit,” you replied, fiddling with the needle. It had pricked you multiple times today, but not nearly as much as you were used to. “It's getting a bit easier, I think.”

“That's so good to hear. Keep up the good work.”

You nodded, continuing to smile until she'd walked past you and was distracted by the needle work of Lauren McGee who sat behind you. You exhaled shakily, looking back down at your work; you would need to work on your speed. Taehyung told you last night that being meticulous, unforgiving with your stitches would improve the final product tremendously, but it also meant slowing down the process. The girls around you had already moved on to their second set of stitches, whilst you were barely halfway through your first.

Nonetheless, Miss Beckett clearly wasn't worrying about speed. It was your own self consciousness convincing you that you needed to keep up.

You leaned back and continued stitching. Around the room, people were looking at you and whispers were being shared; you chose to ignore them. It was much easier that way. None of them really knew what they were talking about – they saw you walk out of school with Taehyung, but anything beyond that could be nothing more than assumptions. If their guesses came back correct, you wouldn't be the one to tell them.

At the end of the day, nothing happened. You and Taehyung were nothing more than friends – if that. He was your tutor above all else. You had no connection to him whatsoever.

As you walked out the door for break that day, Miss Beckett gave you a pleasant smile. It wasn't normal for her to do that; she usually scowled at you, told you to work a little bit harder, or just ignored you completely. The smile was a nice one to receive.

You headed straight for your hiding hole at break, ducking beneath the brambles and tucking your legs into your chest. You felt like treating yourself this afternoon, and so you reached into your rucksack and dragged out the sketchbook you'd made for yourself a few months prior – it was your fourth sketchbook, but the only one you'd kept. Your mother would scream if she knew you were taking up such a hobby. Chances are, you would probably have to discard of this sketchbook when the time came, too, but for now, you let yourself get lost in the feel of the charcoal beneath your fingers and the bumpy pages gliding beneath your fist.

You were so lost in the landscape drawing that you didn't notice the shift of the trees, the way the canopy roof shivered with sudden movement.

“Ay, you are here!”

You yelped, flinching back with a hand pressed to your collarbone. Taehyung climbed into the hiding hole beside you, tugging his knees into his chest, making himself as small as possible so he could fit.

“What you got there?” he asked. Today he wore a flat cap that pushed his messy brown hair into his eyes. You reeled back the urge to reach over and brush it away.

You nuzzled your sketchbook into your chest. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“Oh, so we're back to that, are we?” Taehyung shook his head, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a packet of wine gums that he purposefully did not offer you. “That's fine by me. I'll just take my expertise elsewhere.”

You raised a brow. “Are you talking about our sewing lessons?”

“That I am.”

“I didn't ask for those, you know. You were the one who offered.”

He glanced at you. “And did they help?”

You frowned, regarding him with a displeased expression. He grinned, a purple wine gum pressed between his teeth, before he turned away and leaned his head against the wall.

“I'm gonna take that as a yes,” he said. “Anyway, it was fun teaching you a few tips and tricks; a shame that it has to end like this.”

“Taehyung-”

“I was enjoying your company, too. I always gain so much pleasure from teaching the innocent.”

You groaned. “Taehyung-”

“Now my dreams of becoming a professional sewing tutor have gone to hell-”

You gasped. “Watch your mouth, Kim Taehyung!”

He laughed. “That's what gets you to burst?”

“You're being over dramatic. I'm not going to humour you with any type of response.”

He shrugged heavily. “Fine by me, my dear. As I said, if this is how our little deal ends, then I can do nothing about it.”

“You just want me to show you my drawings. It's quite an invasion of privacy, if I do say so.”

“But you coming into my home and sitting on my bed isn't?”

You bit your lip, looking down at the sketchbook – he made some good points, whether you wanted to admit it or not – plus, you'd be lying to claim you weren't desperate for another one of his tutoring sessions. They were so laid back, and you learned so much from them. You were clearly improving – surely losing such a thing wouldn't be worth it?

You sighed and dropped your sketchbook, open, onto the grassy floor between you. Taehyung hesitated, examining your face for just a second before he let his eyes drop to the open page; it was a portrait of your father you completed a few months prior, your reference being a picture he'd sent from war. It came attached to a post card with some lovely words written for you and your mother scrawled on the back; your mother had been kind enough to send you off with the picture, as long as you let her keep the letter. The deal was a fair one to you, and as soon as you got in bed that night, you'd drawn it – just to keep an extra copy somewhere.

It wasn't perfect by any means. A few of the lines were smudged with your tears; any picture sent by your father could make you cry. However, you were happy with how it turned out. You could really make out who it was, and that was the important thing.

Taehyung didn't bother to pick up the book. He kept it on the ground, but ran his fingers along the thick black lines. His eyes raked over the page repeatedly; you only knew this because you couldn't keep your own eyes off him, the way he bit his lip and tilted his head, getting a better look at the art you'd created but never shared.

“This is wonderful.” His voice was quiet. You leaned forward instinctively, tilting your head.

“You think so?”

“I didn't know you had this kind of talent in you, Y/N. You seem so . . . not confident with your sewing, that I just assumed you held no passion for anything like this.”

You scoffed. “Just because I don't like sewing doesn't mean I can't do anything with my hands, Taehyung.”

He blushed. You weren't sure why.

“Well, I think you're very talented,” he said, looking up with a small smile. “Maybe you can draw me one day.”

You blinked. He stared back at you.

What an odd suggestion.

You coughed and gathered up your sketchbook, slamming it closed. “Maybe one day.” It was the best answer you could give at the moment.

He settled back against the wall, wrapping his arms round his knees.

You awkwardly settled beside him. “So does this mean we can continue our tutoring?”

“I think I can make arrangements, yes.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip. “T-tonight again?”

Taehyung smiled softly. “You almost sound eager.”

You shrugged.

He nodded, nudging his arm against your own. “We'll have you being a top needleworker in no time. I promise.”

----

His promises did not come loosely.

Three weeks in, and visiting Taehyung's house after school had become a daily thing. He would wait for you just by the wire fence, then the two of you would walk to his house and spend a good few hours sketching and practising needlework. Somehow, Taehyung managed to convince you to let him use your sketchbook, and so now the pages were being filled not only with your rough sketches, but Taehyung's attempts at art, too.

He wasn't even all that bad. He was improving as you gave him little hints and tips, and he was obviously very proud of himself.

You were also improving with your needlework, which wasn't going unnoticed by Miss Beckett.

“She didn't even yell at me today when I dropped the saucer during cooking.” You were sat on your knees, hands pressed together in excitement as you recalled the days successes to a tired Taehyung; apparently, he'd had army training that afternoon, so he was now attempting to lay horizontally in the hiding spot, a tiny bit of his head popping out the doorway, his feet squished up against your leg.

“That's really great, Y/N,” he drawled. “What were you cooking?” He poked his head up, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why didn't you bring me any?”

“Because it isn't finished yet,” you said. “We're finishing it when we go back in for next lesson.”

He grunted, dropping his head back to the floor. “Can I have some on the walk back to my house?”

“If you want.” You tapped his ankle. “But maybe we should skip our lessons today. You look awfully tired.”

“I'm not tired.” His words were a slur.

You frowned. “Honestly, Taehyung, I don't mind. My parents probably want me home earlier tonight, anyway; we have some distant relatives over.”

“Oh? Are you close to them?”

You shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then they don't matter. You can come over to my house for as long as you like.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were unable to hide your amused grin; you quite liked when Taehyung got like this; drowsy, barely understanding what he was saying. He was never a very subtle person, but he at least had the decency to have some kind of filter on a normal day. This, however, was him when he cared too little to keep a leash on his words. It was a nice change, even if it did sometimes work against your favour.

“Do you ever think you'll tell your friends about this place?” he asked suddenly.

“What place?”

“Our hiding place.”

Our hiding place. Neither of you had discussed the logistics that came with him basically moving in – it just kind of happened. He'd moulded himself to the place, and you weren't complaining.

“Well,” you said, “I don't really have very many friends to tell, to be quite honest.”

He paused. “That's a shame. Them girls are really missing out.”

“Thank you, Taehyung.”

“I mean it.” He looked at you through the bottom of his eyelids, too exhausted to lift his head up but too serious to not make eye contact. “I think you're one of the best friends I've ever had.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight the heat from your cheeks.

“And you're very gorgeous.”

You nearly gasped. However, you just managed to catch yourself, instead snapping your eyes down to his outstretched form. His eyes were now closed, one hand draped over his forehead whilst the other rubbed lazy circles into his stomach. He grumbled beneath his breath, complaining about his exhaustion and how overworked he was, how he just wanted to go home, but you could barely hear those tiny little complaints over the sound of your own heartbeat, the echo of his previous words.

You looked away. Boys were a distraction. You couldn't afford to be distracted right now – not when everything was finally starting to work itself out.

---

During lunch time, you didn't go to your hiding place. You actually ate lunch.

You didn't mind eating on your own. Actually, you preferred it. You had an entire bench to yourself, and not a single person could judge you for whatever drawing you were producing during the half hour you had to eat the ham sandwiches your mother packed for you.

A few feet ahead of you, the wire fence stood. Behind that, you could make out the shape of Taehyung, standing tall amongst his group of friends. You never saw them sit down to eat lunch; Taehyung, at least, was always stood up, chewing away at a sandwich or a banana, throwing an apple idly into the air. Now, however, he stood with both hands stuffed in his pockets, laughing at something his blonde haired friend said.

You wanted him to talk to you, but even he wasn't that reckless; if the teachers saw the two of you speaking through the wire fence, they would be furious. So, during lunch times, you pretended not to know each other.

“He's a pretty boy, isn't he?”

You jumped, charcoal darting across the browning page. You looked up, stifling a curse of frustration.

Standing beside you was Catherine Warren, one of the girls in your year. She was tall, had a bulky build and pig tails that sat atop her head; this late in the day, her hair was starting to fall out of its bun, and she looked similar to that of a used rag doll.

She sneered down at you. “I didn't want to believe you had eyes for Kim Taehyung, but here I am, witnessing the tragic love story for myself.”

You swallowed. “Excuse me?”

She nodded towards the boys yard. “My little sister saw you walking into his house a few days ago – what was all that about, Y/N? You told Miss Beckett you went straight home after school to work on your needle work.”

Your stomach was tied in knots; you weren't sure what to say, how to reply, how you could even wiggle your way out of this. The younger kids always stood outside Taehyung's house, but you didn't see any of them as an issue. You hadn't known one of them was Catherine's little sister.

“I don't. . . My mother is friends with his mother.” You said it too quickly. You knew you did, but you couldn't help it. You needed to get the lie out as fast as possible, before she realised you were, in fact, lying.

Catherine tilted her head to the side. “Is that so? How come you lied to Miss Beckett, then?”

You winced. “Now, you see-”

“He really isn't going to love someone like you.”

You blinked. “I'm sorry?”

She shrugged as if to say What are you gonna do? Slowly, she lowered herself onto the bench, staring at Taehyung the entire time. “A man like that deserves a wife who can serve him just right. When he goes off to war, he shouldn't need to be worrying about his wife falling over a water puddle, or pricking her finger on a needle and bleeding to death; he should be coming home to a nice cooked meal and warm clothes – preferably clothes that have been freshly stitched.” She eyed you. “These just aren't things you can offer him.”

She wasn't wrong, but you didn't think those things would be an issue. When you were with Taehyung, he never made you feel inadequate or less than for not having the same set of skills as the other girls. He praised you for the skills you did have, made you feel special for the things you could do.

But maybe Catherine was right.

After all, that was the kind of thing your mother was always talking about – your husband was meant to be treated well. He goes out of his way to provide for the family you are expected to provide for him, so the least you should do is be able to give him a nice, tasty, home cooked meal – but cooking wasn't part of your expertise, either.

You looked back over at Taehyung and imagined him coming home to Catherine every night; it fit so much better than him and you. Sure, you and Taehyung had chemistry. That much was undeniable – but would you be able to make him happy? Catherine certainly would. She was a top student in almost every single class, had studied wifely etiquette from the moment she could read.

“You know I hate being the bearer of bad news,” she said, placing her hand into your own. You started, tried to pull away from her grip but she curled her fingers and pressed the back of your palm into the wood. “But I don't want to see your heart get crushed. Not so early on in life. You've made the mistake of falling for someone at such a young age, but it's only going to cause you heartache. I come to you with the best intentions – I swear.”

You nodded dazedly. “Thank you, Catherine. I – I appreciate it.”

She smiled, a look of sadness in her eyes that seemed so real. You were so ready to believe her, because every word she spoke made so much sense.

She stood up after that, not saying a word of farewell or anything else on the subject; she simply turned and started jogging back to her friends, who all giggled and cheered when she crashed back into their tight little circle.

You turned back to the fence; Taehyung had turned around now, was saying his final goodbyes to the last of his remaining friends. As soon as the unknown boy was gone, disappearing behind the swing set, Taehyung made eye contact with you and waved.

You gathered up your sketchbook and darted away without acknowledging him.

---

Keeping your head down, you scuttled towards the exit gates, pressing your sketchbook and your slate into your chest.

You couldn't bare to see him. Not right now, not after what Catherine said. Throughout the remainder of the day, you'd sat at your desk and pondered over her words, really giving them a once over – and you came to the conclusion that she was, of course, correct.

Taehyung did deserve better. Taehyung probably wanted better, but he'd started something now and he had too big of a heart to send you away. However, even as these thoughts came to the forefront, you were still left with questions: Why did he still visit you at the hiding place every break time? Why did he offer his help in the first place?

Why did he call you gorgeous?

He was tired that day, but does that really mean he wasn't speaking the truth? It was a guessing game – his exhaustion could have made him dazed, unable to pinpoint what he was actually talking about; or, his exhaustion could have made him careless, meaning he was speaking the truth and just didn't really care that you heard.

You tried to push these thoughts out of your head as you walked towards the exit in a sea of girls wearing the exact same thing as you. The boys and girls came together as they walked out the gates, but none of them mingled. The girls kept their heads down, and the boys stayed within their own small groups-

You saw Taehyung.

He was waiting for you at your usual spot, his hands tucked into his pockets and his head tilted back; he didn't seem as chipper as usual, his lower lip between his teeth and his eyes half closed. You desperately wanted to walk over to him, take his arm, lead him away to tell him all the things you'd done today. You would tell him you were nearly finished the garment you'd been working on, that cooking class went amazingly, that you'd managed to wash the dishes and prepare the food all before Miss Beckett called time.

But you didn't.

You kept your head down and carried on walking, hoping and praying the cover of similar uniforms and a sea of students would be enough.

“Y/N!”

You closed your eyes, walking a little faster. Taehyung, however, had very long legs and a determination you'd never seen in any one else. It was only a few seconds before he'd managed to grab your wrist and spin you around, so abruptly that you nearly stumbled into his chest.

He was looking down at you with a frown, his perfect brows furrowed. “I was waiting.”

You tugged your hand from his grip. “I have to go home, Taehyung.”

“Home?”

You started walking again. He grunted, stumbling to catch up.

“Hey, hey, that's fine,” he said. “If you can't do the tutoring today, that's fine. We can just do it tomorrow.”

“I won't be able to do it tomorrow, either.”

Taehyung paused. “Right. Okay. The day after tomorrow-”

“I don't think we should keep seeing each other outside of school.”

Taehyung froze, and this time, you froze with him. You glanced at him, noting the frustration building on his features. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, keeping his dark eyes locked on your own, searching for an answer you couldn't give him because then he would realise this entire thing was your fault and not his.

“Right...,” he drawled. “Why is that?”

“It's inappropriate.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Inappropriate? After nearly a whole month, you've finally decided that us being friends is inappropriate?”

You flushed, looking away. “It makes sense, Taehyung. People have started talking, and you have a reputation to keep up. I have a future to think about-”

“Reputation.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “A future. You're saying this like I can't possibly be part of your future.”

“You can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” You faltered; there really was no reason he couldn't be part of your life. He was male, but that didn't mean you couldn't be friends as you grew older – the two of you could easily continue this platonic relationship, and nobody would bat an eye once you finally managed to get a husband.

If you managed to get a husband.

But the truth was, the more you thought about it, the more the word friends just didn't seem to fit. It was the strangest feeling, the closest thing to romantic feelings you'd ever reached, but they were there and you could no longer completely deny them. Taehyung was special to you in a way nobody had ever been, and the idea of keeping him around to just be your friend was nearly enough to make your stomach turn inside out.

Taehyung tilted his head at your silence, stepping closer now that you seemed dazed enough to let him. “Why not, Y/N?”

“I'm just not good enough for you.” You inhaled sharply, the words released. Before you could catch a glimpse of his face, you turned on your heel and started walking in the opposite direction. The tears would start soon, and you could not let him see such a thing.

His fingers wrapped round your wrist again. You groaned in frustration, and he immediately let go, stumbling back when you span around to face him.

“Can you not just leave it at that?” you demanded.

Taehyung shook his head. “Say that again.”

You blinked. “Say what?”

“What you just said. You're reasoning for not letting me be in your life.”

“Tae-”

“Just say it again.”

You inhaled shakily. “I'm not good enough for you. There. Are you happy now?”

“You sound utterly ridiculous. You know that, don't you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, some quick retort to send him off his feet, but your words faltered when you processed what he'd said.

Narrowing your eyes, you said, “How so?”

“How can you not be good enough for me when you're the most perfect girl I've ever met?”

You hadn't heard him right.

This wasn't how any of it was supposed to go – he was meant to walk away and let you wallow in your sadness. He was meant to go off and get a wife – someone like Catherine – who could treat him right and give him the life he was meant to have. He was meant to forget about you.

He stepped closer. You were so caught up in your shock that you didn't notice the way his arm lifted slowly, the way his fingertips traced over your elbow before he tugged you towards him just that little bit. You should have pulled away, but you couldn't.

“Have I finally stunned you into silence, missus?”

“You don't mean that,” you whispered.

“I meant every word,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear. Your stunned state was clearly very amusing to him. “Now, can you explain to me what you meant when you said you weren't good enough? Because I'm awfully confused by that statement.”

You looked down at the ground between you; he was so close. His black school shoes scuffed your own. “I don't know how to sew.”

Taehyung paused. “Right...”

“I don't know how to sew, and you deserve someone who can fix your clothes when you get them messed up.” You groaned. “I don't know how to cook, either, and how am I meant to be a decent wife if I can't even give you a home cooked meal when you get home? It's unheard of! I'm a lost cause, and you don't deserve that.”

Taehyung blinked. “W-wife?”

You flinched back, pulling your elbow out of his grip. You stumbled back until you were pressed up against a tree, panting breaths escaping you. Taehyung shook his head, fighting out of his daze before he walked towards you, throwing caution to the wind and cupping your face.

“Ay, breathe, love,” he said. “I'm not gonna judge you.”

“How am I ever going to have a good future if I can't do what they all say I should?” you asked, voice cracking.

Taehyung closed his eyes, before his hand traced lightly to the back of your neck. He pulled you in, and it was with your head buried in his shoulder that you finally let go; you didn't exactly cry, though you wanted to. You gripped his shirt tightly, bundling the fabric until your knuckles grew white. He held you just as tight, swaying softly back and forth.

“They've really messed you up, haven't they?”

“W-what?”

“You're so much more than just the things you can do for a man. You're so talented at drawing, so talented at building things, so talented at climbing; just because they aren't the ideal skills for a woman to have, doesn't mean they're any less impressive.” He tilted his head, lips inches from your ear. “It doesn't mean a man will be any less interested in you.”

Your breath hitched. “But . . . I should be able to provide-”

“If a man doesn't know how to cook his own food and fix his own clothes, then he's a lazy scoundrel who you shouldn't waste your time on.” Taehyung pulled away then, though he kept his hands on your waist – you were thankful for that. “It's not your job to provide for people who are too caught up in their beliefs to provide for themselves.”

You stared up at him, unsure of what to say – actually, no. You knew what you wanted to say. You were so, so certain about what you wanted to say, but the words got lodged in your throat because Taehyung was staring back at you with that glint in his eyes, and his hands were on your waist, and people were walking out the school gates but neither of you cared.

He tilted his head to the side. His feathery hair flopped to the side, and this time, you didn't hesitate when you reached up and brushed it back. His eyes slid closed for only a second before he opened them again and grinned.

“And personally, I'd be honoured to come home after a long days work and cook dinner with you rather than just expecting it on the table as soon as I walk in the door.” He leaned down, pressing his head into your shoulder. “But I think we should be taking things a little slower.”

Your breath hitched. “Tae...”

He hummed. “Yes?”

“People are looking.”

“Does that bother you?”

You looked around at the confused, wide-eyes of the girls in your class, all of whom had been making it their lifes mission to ward you as far from Taehyung as they could possibly get. Catherine was glaring at you from across the way. Miss Beckett was walking out of her classroom, her eyes immediately widening when she saw the scene in front of her.

But you were too far gone at this point.

You reached up and cupped Taehyung's face, pulling him away from your shoulder. He looked down at you in amusement, though his smile faded as soon as he saw the look of pure determination on your face.

“What are you-”

You kissed him.

It was unplanned and you had very little experience, but somehow, just having Taehyung's lips on your own made you feel like a professional – you weren't good at a lot of conventional things, but this was something you could certainly get used to, something you were certainly willing to practice and improve on.

Taehyung growled against your lips, his hands winding tighter around your waist. The girls squealed, looking away as if the scene in front of them was something taboo and sinister – they would go home and gossip to their mothers about the absolute horrors they'd witnessed today, and you would be curled up in your hiding place with Taehyung sprawled out across the brambles, and everything would be perfectly fine.

Miss Beckett screamed your name from across the playground. You pulled away, eyes widening, but Taehyung had other ideas – he turned, gave Miss Beckett a thumbs up before he snatched up your hand and started running towards his house. You stumbled after him, an unexpected laugh bursting from your chest that Taehyung mimicked.

And the two of you just ran.

---

“What are you hiding?”

You just continued to grin, staring at him as he crawled beneath the canopy, into your usual hiding spot.

Taehyung raised a brow. “Y/N, I'm too tired for guessing games. Why have you got your hands behind your back?”

“Sit down and I'll show you.”

“Oh, don't mind if I do.” He flopped down on his back, groaning in relief. His head lay in your lap, his feet hanging out the door of the hiding spot, but neither of you cared any more. There was nothing to hide.

He opened his eyes and looked up at you. “So? What is it?”

You pulled the garment out from behind your back and waved it in front of his face. His eyes immediately widened, a grin forming. A grin that you loved so dearly.

It wasn't perfect. By no means was it up to the same standards as the garments Taehyung made, but it was an improvement from what you used to produce, and you were so, so proud of it. Miss Beckett had been giving you the cold shoulder these past few weeks, but upon seeing your progress, even she had been able to break out of her shell to congratulate you on the hard work you'd been putting in.

Taehyung slowly reached up, tracing his fingers along the hemline; you'd sewn a few little ribbons along the bottom of the jacket. Taehyung always told you he liked ribbons, things dangling off his clothes. There were sequins on the shoulders, patches sewed into the main body of the garment.

“Y/N...,” Taehyung drawled. “This is amazing.”

You grinned, dropping it onto his stomach. “A gift.”

His eyes shot up. “For who?”

“For you, of course.”

“I can't take this!” He scrambled up, grunting when his head hit off a branch. “This is your first finished piece – surely it should go to someone special.”

“You are special.”

He rolled his eyes. “Someone a little more special than me.”

You reached forward and brushed your thumb along his cheekbone. He narrowed his eyes at your affection, but melted into your touch anyway. “I don't think there is anyone more special than you, Kim Taehyung. At least not to me.”

His eyes softened. He released a puff of air, looking back down at the jacket you'd presented to him. Biting his lower lip, he said no more, but instead wrapped an arm round your shoulders and tugged you into his side.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“I'm going to cherish it.”

115 notes · View notes

nochu101nochu · 7 years

Text

Lone Wolf

Hello ! Taehyung (V) x reader werewolf AU I was inspired by the Japanese ver of Blood Sweat & Tears. Taehyung was wearing the Lone Wolf jacket and I just got inspired!

Warnings: language, mentions of blood and death

Words: 4.5k

Enjoy!!

Inspiration:

My eyes watched as the orange leaves fluttered around in the wind. My ears were perked as I listened to the crumbling of leaves under thick soles. My face wore a bored expression while the lecturer kept repeating the work. I watched as the clouds moved in the sky. They were moving at an incredible pace. There’s gonna be a storm. My mind dozed off thinking about what I could do this evening. I could watch Netflix or read a book. As the bell rang my body jerked forward with ferocity making my table stumble forward. I apologized and, at a fast pace, left the classroom.

I smelled the fresh air as I walked towards the woods. The sky was a dark blue by now as the clouds covered the sky. Just as I entered the woods I felt a tiny raindrop on my nose. My nose wiggled as I laughed. I covered my bag with plastic and started running. The faster my steps became the harder it started to rain. My tail started to grow as well as my big ears and teeth. I stopped when I smelt something familiar yet couldn’t put my mind to what it was.

I started to follow the scent curious as to what it was. I stopped when I heard a loud grumble. A werewolf. My head turned to the side as the werewolf revealed himself. His hair stuck to his forehead. His clothes were ripped up , all of them except for his jacket. He looked at me with a fearful expression. I stepped forward only for him to step back twice as much.

“Where’s your pack?” My voice was drowned out by the rain hitting the ground.

“They’re dead.” His body started shivering.

I nodded and grabbed his wrist. I pulled him with me towards my bag.

“So you’re a lone wolf? I know I shouldn’t be helping you but you have no pack and you’re either gonna die of frostbite, hunters or Jungkook.”

He gasped when he heard the Alpha’s name. He pulled back hard and started panting in fear. I pulled harder and fastened my pace.

“Y’know if he likes you then he wont kill you.”

He still shook with fear as we approached my bag. I pulled him next to me and murmured ‘follow me’.

As we entered my home he sighed. I turned to look at him and saw pure bliss. I had a new candle made for werewolves. “Thanks” I nodded and walked into my bedroom. I opened my closet and pulled out sweatpants and a shirt that was too big for me and gave it to him.

“You can shower in the bathroom down the hall, the first door to your left.”

I heard the shower head turn on when I started to prepare meat for the both of us. My nose twitched when the meat hit the pan. My body started to ache just to stuff my face with the food. I held myself back because of him. Just as I finished the meat the water stopped streaming out of the shower head.

His scent hit my nose when he left the shower. My head turned to him and instantly saw that the clothes, that I thought would fit him, clung too tightly around his torso and thighs.

“I’ll be right back.”

I turned around and slammed my front door shut. I walked to my neighbour’s house and knocked hurriedly on his door. He opened his door with a smile on his face. I asked him for clothes, asking for sweats and a t-shirt. He gave me the items with a crease in between his eyebrows. I bowed and ran to my house.

I walked in and met a rather awkward looking guy standing in the exact same spot as when I left him. I giggled and handed him the clothes. He pulled the clothes to his nose and sniffed. He pulled back with a disgusted look on his face.

“They’re dirty.”

“It’s either the too small clothes or those, choose wisely.”

I turned around and started to put the meat on two different plates. I put the plates down on the table and sat down, waiting for him to return. He returned with looser clothes and my clothes in hand. He threw them on the couch when he saw the meat. He speed walked to the table and sat down. I looked at him biting my lip as he licked his lips seductively.

He looked up and lifted the one eyebrow. He smirked at me making me wonder whether he could read my mind. He chuckled and started to stuff his face with the meat.

“I’m Taehyung by the way,”

My eyes fluttered open and snuggled closer to the warmth next to me. My face was buried in his neck and his arms were crossed over my waist. This was amazing, he was warm, he was soft and he-. My eyes shot open and pushed him away. He didn’t move an inch. I tried to slip out of his strong embrace only for him to tighten his grip.

“Stop moving.”

My body stopped moving when I heard his groggy voice. He opened his eyes and looked at me with an annoyed expression.

“Why are you in my bed? I thought you slept on the couch.”

“I did but it was cold. You were really warm so I figured, why not?”

I sighed and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He eventually gave in and and let me go freshen up. As I left the bathroom I heard a harsh knock on the door. My head cocked to the side. Me and Taehyung jumped when we heard a rather harsh growl.

Jungkook

Taehyung and I fearfully watched the doorknob wiggling. I looked at him and saw Taehyung zone out. Probably thinking about his life and how good it was. We both jumped when we heard Jungkook swear. My shaky hand grabbed the cold metal and turned it slowly.

“Hide”

Taehyung ran into my laundry room and locked the door. My front door was harshly pushed open revealing a red eyed Jungkook. I laughed nervously and waved at him.

“Where’s he. They said he was here.”

”What do you mean.”

He pushed me back harshly and sniffed the air. I sniffed as well, his stench was prominent to say the least, or that’s what I thought. Jungkook whipped his head around and stared at me.

“Where.”

I sighed and walked towards the door.

“Taehyung, he knows.”

I tried to wiggle the door open but the door was still locked.

“I won’t let him hurt you.”

That’s when the door released a click. I opened the door to reveal him. I whispered a silent sorry and turned to look at Jungkook. His fists were clenched as his eyes shifted between the both of us. I looked at my feet and started to fiddle with my fingers.

“What the hell, y/n.”

I bit my lip..

“You never break rules and now-now you break the most important rule!”

His voice became loud and his aura started to intimidate me. My body instinctively started to shrink smaller.

“And you-” his finger pointed towards Taehyung, “how dare you enter my territory let alone sleep here! You stink dog. Taehyung is it? Weren’t you the one that killed your whole pack? How dare a murderer stay in her house.”

My eyes diverted from Jungkook’s fierce eyes to the trembling body next to me. I frowned as I wondered how such an innocent looking boy could kill his pack.

“Y/n,Taehyung, follow me.”

Our bare feet followed the fierce alpha. Outside was a black van. The window opened and revealed Jungkook’s helpers. They gasped when they saw me.

Taehyung sighed as he stepped into the van. He sat down close to me and looked at me with wide eyes. I could feel his warmth spread across my cold body. I shifted closer to him and grabbed his hand. His hand was sweating, stress. I squeezed his hand for reassurance.

“Cut that off.”

My hand flew away from him and I moved away from him.

My body flung forward as the man threw me into a cell. Taehyung joining me not long after. He groaned in pain as the man chuckled. Taehyung looked up at me and smiled slightly. I sat up and crossed my legs.

“Sorry for splitting on you..”

“It’s fine, I stink apparently.”

I giggled. “Is it true, about you killing your pack.”

He shrunk into a ball. His heart started beating faster. His hands started to shake. He nodded slowly afraid to tell me the truth.

“Why are you nervous.”

I scooted closer to him. His eyes locked with mine. My eyes held care as his held fear. His eyes was a dark brown. He had slight bags underneath his eyes revealing that he hasn’t slept well for a good amount of time. His body started to relax as he stared into my eyes. His eyes quickly revealed his blue eyes. The eyes of a killer of an innocent soul. I felt my heartbeat syncing with his. He smiled softly. His mouth opened, but couldn’t let any sound leave its crevice because Jungkook walked in.

His eyes were still as fierce as the were before. I stood up and stared at him. Taehyung stood next to me. I inspected Jungkook’s skinny fingers skillfully open the lock. My hands started shaking as anticipation took over my every being.

“Me and Namjoon came up to a conclusion. I did not want to lose you, Y/n. So we decided you both will stay here for the rest of your lives. You will help me. Taehyung will help the defense and Y/n you will help us plan everything. You will share a room, it’ll have cameras. I will take you to your house to gather your belongings but you will never return.”

My eyes widened in shock. My head turned to Taehyung. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“You better hurry.”

My body dragged itself to my front door. My hands were shaking as I tried to put the key in the keyhole. I kept pressing it everywhere except the hole. Taehyung suddenly wrapped his hands around mine and guided my hands to the keyhole. He turned the key with precision. His hot breath fanned across my neck.

“There.”

I walked dazed into my house and started grabbing random objects. Taehyung grabbed all the items out my hands and put them down.

“Take the stuff in your room, this doesn’t mean anything to you. It’s a plant, Y/n.”

His voice poised me back into the dazed state. My world started spinning making everything blur, except the angel that is Taehyung.

Taehyung’s POV

My eyes drifted to the girl in front of me. She was staring at me. I chuckled and ran into her room. My hands curled around her clothes, yanking them off the hangers. I saw a bag and grabbed it. I shoved the clothes in there and turned around. I grabbed all her belongings and ran towards her. I picked her up and ran outside.

Jungkook’s eyes drifted over her body. His head fell to the side as he started laughing. He looked at me and winked. My eyebrows formed a crease as I stepped into the van. Y/n’s body was limp against mine. Jungkook’s hand fell onto her shoulder and shook her. She lifted her gaze from her lap to my eyes. She sighed and dropped her head onto my shoulder, which made my heart beat faster than it should’ve.

Y/n’s POV

My fingers were hovering over the keyboard as Jungkook stared at me. “I thought you could hack, now do it y/n.” My fingers touched the keyboard but my mind couldn’t form any memory of hacking. My mind was still in a daze because of Taehyung. My hands dropped to my side.

“I forgot.”

Jungkook’s fingers rubbed his eyes. He stood up and opened the door. “Just fucking leave.”

My feet slid across the floor as I walked to my room. Taehyung’s scent started to take over my mind. His scent was sweet with a hint of sweat. I sniffed right before I opened the door. My eyes drifted across Taehyung’s torso when I stepped into the room. Taehyung gasped and covered his stomach.

I flopped onto my bed as I watched Taehyung try to put his shirt on without revealing his torso to me.

“Y’know I saw your torso so stop being so shy.”

“What would you do if I saw your upper body NAKED!”

I laughed and sighed. Butterflies started to erupt in my stomach when Taehyung’s scent became stronger. I sighed and stared at him in astonishment.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I frowned when his deep voice broke the silence. I shrugged and let my eyes drift across his arms. His veins were sticking out more than it did yesterday. His scent was stronger. He was overwhelming. His face was illuminated by the ceiling light. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were blue. He really was an angel. His looks were far from any person. He must’ve been the most perfect person I’ve ever seen.

He coughed and stared at me. I jumped and blushed ferociously.

“I killed my pack out of instinct. I’m far from perfect.”

Can he read my mind?

“Obviously.”

His scent became even stronger. I instinctively sniffed the air and sighed in contentment.

“Stop sniffing me it’s creepy.”

My mouth hung open. My heartbeat was beating so fast it clouded my hearing. All my senses became more effective around him. Footsteps went down the hall. The smell of Jungkook came closer- JUNGKOOK.

Jungkook slammed the door open and grabbed Taehyung’s wrist harshly. He pulled Taehyung out. Taehyung was whimpering in pain. I wonder what’s gonna happen.

Jungkook’s POV

I threw Taehyung’s body into my office. Taehyung’s limp body hit the ground with a thump. I kicked the door closed and walked towards Taehyung. I looked at his pained expression and chuckled darkly. His eyes looked at me with fear. I bent down to his body.

“How can you be so soft when talking to her. I thought you killed your pack, because they stole your meat.”

He instantly sat up straight when the last words left my lips. He frowned harshly as me. His hands rubbed against his jeans.

“That was not the-”

“Shut up dog. The training starts tomorrow at noon. Be late and I’ll bite your head off.”

He stood up and nodded. His feet dragged against the ground as he walked towards the wooden door.

“I killed my pack because they were all infected and they had to die sooner or later. I didn’t want to see them all in pain so I made it sooner.”

Taehyung’s POV

I slammed the door shut and stomped towards our room. My heart was beating harshly in my chest. My eyes started to water when I thought about my pack. I wiped my tears and opened the door.

“Hey what ha-”

“Don’t talk to me.”

My body fell onto the bed and I heard her breath hitch. I clenched my eyes shut and instantly regretted saying that to her. She stood up and turned the light off and climbed into her bed. She mumbled a faint ‘good night’ before her body turned to the side.

I ran to the field with my clothes hanging off my body and my shoelaces loose.

“Well, someone’s late.”

All the men chuckled and turned towards Jungkook. His face was stern and angry. His eyes drifted through the crowd but stopped on me. He smirked. He then went forward to scan the crowd further. Once he was done he told us to run 100 laps.

My legs were shaking when I entered the bathroom. I ripped my shirt off and stepped into ice cold water. A sigh left my lips. I washed my body with soap and stepped out.

I entered the room with only a towel on completely forgetting that I had a roommate.

Y/n’s POV

My fingers were typing as fast as they let me. I reached over and took a sip of my water and continued my typing. Jungkook asked me to write a plan to get rid of other packs entering our territory. My brain had never come up with a solution that fast in my entire life.

I heard the door creaking revealing Taehyung. His upper body was exposed and his hair was stuck on his forehead. My hands stopped typing and my mouth fell open. He looked at me and gasped. He turned around and slammed the door shut. I let out a sigh and heard the camera turn its view.

My eyes saw the red light blinking. I tried to carry on with my typing but I couldn’t because of him. His lean torso, his tan skin. He was making me lose my sanity.

The door swung open and this time revealed Jungkook. He looked furious. He stared at me and then glanced around in the room before entering. He locked the door and sat on the floor next to my bed.

“Why did you stop? Did that dog distract you?”

My diverted from his eyes to the floor. His hand cupped my face and turned my head to look at him. He let out a small smile.

“You shouldn’t let that dog distract you. You’re one of the strongest girls, the smartest as well, I know. I know you can get your mind off him. I believe in you. I depend on you. Now please, carry on. For me. Fighting.”

He stood up with a comforting smile on his face. His bunny smile was the rarest thing you could see. I smiled back. He turned around and unlocked the door. The second he left Taehyung stomped into the room.

“Are you okay?”

He grabbed my face yanking it to the side looking for any bruises. He lifted my arms still looking for bruises.

“I swear if that boy hurt you I’m gonna kill him.”

He leaned forward and sniffed me. My head dropped to the side in confusion.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

My head was buried in his chest. His hot breath was flowing across my neck making millions of goosebumps rise. Our legs were tangled and his arms were holding me close around my waist. My eyes opened and saw tanned skin. I sighed and wiggled out of his grip.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Because you always climb into my bed. People are staring at us all day long.”

“I don’t care. You’re warm and you-”

“Stop.”

I turned around and walked to the bathroom. I entered it and walked to the mirror. I started brushing my hair when Taehyung burst into the bathroom. He grabbed my brush and threw it against the wall left from us. He pinned me against the the sink.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it. I know you like being in my arms. The way you wiggle towards me when I climb in. The way you snuggle your head into my neck.”

I shook my head and pushed him away. I turned to the mirror trying to finish. He stood behind and stared at me. His gaze was harsh and demanding. I chose to ignore him. I brushed my teeth and started to braid my hair. That’s when Taehyung bent down and started breathing harshly on my neck. Goosebumps rose upon my skin. He chuckled as he saw my skin.

“Look at you. Getting you all flustered.”

He bent down further and moved my hair to the side. His soft lips touched my neck. I jumped onto the sink. A blush was covering my whole face making me look even more flustered. He pinched my side and walked out.

Taehyung kept teasing me in the worst possible moments. He stayed by my side. He was around me whenever he could be. His scent became stronger and even more intoxicating. He was toxic.

Jungkook kept on trying to get me to work but I couldn’t get him off my mind. Jungkook eventually gave up and focused on Taehyung. He kept him busy for as long as he could. He tried to keep him away from me so I can work. But every time Taehyung somehow escaped and came running towards me.

Taehyung entered our room and fell onto his bed with a load groan following. He stared at me. I turned my head from the bright light that my laptop let out to his eyes. His eyes scanned me from head to toe. His eyes went from my eyes, to my nose, to my lips and then back to my eyes.

Butterflies started erupt in my stomach. My head started spinning when he stood up. His long legs got him to me with only 2 steps. He bent down and sat on his knees. He still wasn’t saying anything and my stomach still had butterflies.

He stared into my eyes again. His eyes went from a brown to blue. At this moment everything stopped. I felt my eyes divert from brown to gold. My body turned to face him. Instantly he let his hand onto my thigh. He was still staring into my eyes.

I let my eyes drift around his face. His Eyebrows were thick but not too thick. His eyelids were uneven. His big eyes were still looking at me. My eyes went to his nose. It trailed down to the tip of his nose making me see the freckle on his nose. A smile lifted on my lips. My eyes went down to his cupid’s bow and finally reached his lips. His lips were slightly parted. They were plump and pink, perfect.

He started leaning forward. Just when our lips brushed Jungkook pushed the door open. His eyes fell onto us. To my surprise his eyes weren’t intimidating but held fear.

“Taehyung, Y/n. I need your help.”

My eyes drifted across the red field. There were bodies lying all across the once green field. I turned to look at Jungkook and saw that his clothes were covered in blood.

“What happened,Jungkook?”

“I don’t know, it was another pack for sure but they just attacked. I have no clue who it could be. The only pack I had bad chemistry with was your pack, but they’re obviously not gonna attack anymore.”

I let my feet drag me towards one body. I saw multiple stab wounds and scratches on every person’s face. I recognized this work as Chanyeol’s. His pack always used knives and claws as defense, very old school. I never thought they would attack but then again nobody’s that predictable.

I turned towards Jungkook and saw tears in his eyes. I walked forward with ferocity and hugged him when I reached him. He hesitantly hugged me back. I heard Taehyung’s heartbeat quicken so I pulled back.

“I got blood on you..”

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay, okay? Kook, this is Chanyeol’s pack.”

He looked at me with his brows furrowed. He glanced back at the bodies and gasped.

Jungkook looked at me and nodded. I nodded back and turned to the guns in front of me. I grabbed a pistol reloading it and stood next to Taehyung. His hand rested on my hip as Jungkook made sure he had everything we would need on our trip. Jungkook glanced at us and stopped all movement.

“Are you guys like a thing?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s deep voice echoed in the hall. Jungkook nodded and carried on with his work. I glanced up to Taehyung to see that he was staring at me with a smile. He bent down and pecked me on my forehead and walked towards Jungkook leaving me stunned.

“Okay, you got it?”

I nodded and stepped into his black Bugatti Chiron. Taehyung coughed slightly making me stop and turn my head back.

“There are only those two seats.”

“Yes and?”

“You’re gonna have to sit on my lap.”

I looked at Jungkook and saw him nodding at me.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drive and if he sits on your lap you’re gonna be crushed.”

I sighed and stepped back from the car. I let Taehyung in first. Taehyung grabbed me and pulled me harshly onto his lap. He slammed the door shut making me and Jungkook stare at him in anger.

Taehyung just giggled and grabbed tightly onto my waist. He buried his face into my neck and sniffed. I washed my hair so he was probably sniffing my shampoo. He pulled back and calmly let his body lie onto the backrest.

Jungkook kept tapping on the steering wheel letting me know that he was stressed, really stressed.

“Calm down, Kook.”

My soft voice made Jungkook stiffen a bit.

“How do I calm down when I’m sure we’re gonna die. My whole pack is dead except you two.”

“Wait you see me as part of your pack?”

“The day since you lived in the same building as me yes. The day I saw you climb into her bed because you were cold, I said to myself I’ll never let anyone cause harm to any of you two. Look at me now. I’m probably gonna be the reason of your death. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry, I really am. I should’ve come alone. You two should’ve-”

“Shut up. I would’ve forced you to let me come. You’re my alpha. I will never let you down even if that means dying for you, I’ll do it.”

Taehyung kissed my neck when those words left my lips. He squeezed me harder.

“I agree.”

I saw Jungkook relax. He turned his head towards us and looked back at the road. His eyebrows were furrowed.

“What’s up?”

“I thought that maybe, since it’s only us... We could maybe just leave. We could travel. I scraped a lot of money into my bank account. We can go anywhere. I know I’ll third wheel you guys but I still want to do it?”

A smile spread upon my lips. I looked at Taehyung and saw the biggest smile on his face. He instantly started nodding.

“Yes! Yes! I’ve never been out this area before. Please can we go, Y/n what do you say?”

I nodded quickly making Jungkook turn around and head back to our home.

“You ready?”

Jungkook’s body was leaning against the door frame. He stood with a loose white shirt with loose fitted jeans. He wore timberlands on his feet.

“I’ve never seen you this laid back before.”

He chuckled and walked away, making me and Taehyung follow him. Just as we were about to enter the garage Taehyung turned around and grabbed my face and planted his lips onto mine. He kissed me softly and passionately. I combed my hand through his hair and pulled back with a smile.

“Hurry up! Stop kissing and get your asses in my car before I bite you to death!”

Masterlist

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twelveunitsshy-blog · 7 years

Text

Hearsay

Admittedly, there are parts in this story that could've been left out, but I left them in anyway. Also, maybe it might have a continuation possibly? It ends in a bad spot and in a bad way. So, I don't know.

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Genre: Romance Pairing(s): Jack/Gabriel aka Reaper76 Rating: PG13 Summary: In high school, there was a rumor going around about Gabriel and of course, his best friend Jack is the last to know.

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Notes: Yep, a high school AU. Also featuring random OCs.

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Hearsay

Jack began having suspicions that something was wrong when Gabriel would be late coming out of the school building. They always walked home together and normally it was Gabriel who had to wait for Jack to catch up. Now he just watched as his dark-skinned friend came marching out murmuring angrily to himself.

"Let's go," Gabriel said harshly as he walked right past Jack.

"Hold on a minute, Gabe. Did something happen?" Jack asked. He had to jog a bit to catch up to him. After his friend remained silent and kept walking, Jack finally spoke again. "Gabe, say something."

"Nothing happened. Let's just go home," Gabriel said.

Well, Jack knew that something had pissed him off. A teacher must have kept him for detention. But if that were the case, that was the shortest detention Jack had ever heard of.

"We've got that test tomorrow. Wanna come to my place and study?" Gabriel asked as if there had been no prior attempts at conversation.

"Yeah, but something's bothering you and I wanna know what it is," Jack insisted.

"Don't be stupid, Jack. I said it was nothing, so let's just leave it at that."

Well, it seemed as though Jack were causing Gabriel to become even more upset by asking him about it. That was the last thing he wanted to do. "Yeah. Alright."

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They'd stopped at a convenience store for sodas before they quietly made their way to Gabriel's house. No one was at home, as usual. Gabriel's parents worked the late shift and Gabriel often spent his nights at Jack's house. But they would have more quiet studying at Gabriel's house.

"You know, Gabe. This probably wasn't a good idea," Jack began.

Gabriel sighed. "What do you mean?"

"We're studying together, but neither of us is even slightly good at math. It's like a camel trying to teach a tuna how to fly," Jack told him.

The darker teen snorted. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"Yeah. Just like the two of us trying to study math together."

"Well, what were we supposed to do? Drag home one of the nerds or something?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe. That one girl with the freckles and the huge rack who sits in the back of the classroom coulda helped us out. She's really smart. What's her name again? Zoe?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It's Sadie. And my parents don't want me to have girls over while they're not here."

Jack grinned and nudged his buddy. "How are they gonna know if they're not here? Come on. You've probably had hundreds of girls over."

"Of course not, idiot. You're always here, remember?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Hey! Then why don't we both invite girls over here?"

"Aren't we getting a little off topic?"

"Not at all. I'm just saying that Sadie could come over and bring one of her friends or something and we can all 'study' together," Jack said, being sure to emphasize the word study.

Jack already knew that Gabriel knew that he wasn't talking about studying at all. "Can we focus a little here? It's already gonna be hard enough to understand this stuff without you thinking with your dick."

The blond couldn't help noticing that Gabriel seemed a little upset. "What's the matter with you? Do you like Sadie or something? You already knew who I was talking about and you knew her name and every—"

Gabriel cut him off with an abrupt, "No."

Jack looked at Gabriel for a long time. He was even crankier than usual. They always joked about everything and Gabriel rarely took him seriously. What was up with him?

He watched as Gabriel opened his math book to the section they were working on in class. So, he relented and joined his friend in an attempt to study.

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It was a pretty good attempt. The next day, they both received C's for their effort. At least they didn't fail like on the last couple of tests.

As Jack was gathering his books after his last class of the day, he spotted Gabriel hurrying down the hall. This was a good chance for Jack to find out why Gabriel was always late meeting up with him after school.

Jack hoisted his backpack up on his back and trotted after his best friend, making sure not to make too much noise. He watched as Gabriel hurried into the boys' bathroom near their classroom and before Jack could follow him inside, Gabriel came right back out and hurried on down the hall. Thankfully, his dark-skinned friend didn't think to look in his direction.

The blond followed Gabriel on down the hall until he darted into the next restroom. Jack thought that Gabriel might come right back out like last time, so he waited around a bit. But when he didn't come out, Jack slowly opened the door to see Gabriel hurriedly scrubbing the wall.

What in the world was he doing?

The sound of the main door closing obviously startled Gabriel. When Gabriel turned to see who was there, he quickly tried to cover up what he was doing.

"What's going on, Gabe?" Jack asked.

"Don't look," was all Gabriel said.

Jack was completely confused until he saw what Gabriel was trying to cover up. There was a hastily scribbled statement on the wall: Reyes puts the GAY in Gabriel.

The first thing that came to jack's mind was that his best friend was being bullied. "Who did this?" the blond asked.

"It's nothing," Gabriel told him, still trying to hide what Jack had already seen.

"If someone's bullying you, we should tell someone. A teacher maybe."

"It's nothing. Just...."

"Or I could help you deal with them personally," Jack added, jabbing his fist into his palm for emphasis.

Gabriel looked surprised. "What? No. You can't do that. You'd get in trouble."

"I don't care. You're my best friend. Nobody messes with my friends."

"No, Jack. You have a reputation as a good kid. Don't mess that up," Gabriel told him sadly. He began cleaning the wall again and was surprised when Jack joined him.

"Well, the least I could do is help you."

The two were quiet for a while, but Jack became curious. Not only did he wonder who was saying such things about his best friend, but why?

He looked at Gabriel, who made it a point not to look back at him.

"Does this person write random rumors about you every day? Is that why you're always late meeting me after school?" Jack asked.

Gabriel sighed. "Looks like we're done here. Let's head home. I'm allowed to order pizza."

As soon as Jack heard the word pizza, he lost all focus. "Well let's not wait around this place. Let's go."

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On their way to Gabriel's house, they spent the whole time disagreeing on what toppings to get on their pizza. They finally settled on pepperoni, onions and mushrooms. The onions were a compromise. Gabriel had wanted olives while Jack had wanted peppers.

As they sat and enjoyed their pizza, Jack frowned as he chewed. "I still can't believe that someone would bully you."

"You know how teenagers are. Just drop it," Gabriel said between bites.

"I just wanna know who it is so I can knock his teeth in one good time."

"Let it go, Jack."

"How long has this been going on?"

Gabriel was quiet for a while. "About a month."

At least he answered that. "So what exactly has he been doing?" Jack went on.

Gabriel glared at him for a while, then sighed and said, "It's like a game to him. A scavenger hunt, I guess. He writes stuff on bathroom walls after school and I 'm supposed to find them. If I don't, they'll be there for everyone to see the next day."

Jack groaned, aggravated. "Doesn't this clown have anything better to do than make up lies about people?"

Gabriel averted his eyes.

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The next day, the two of them were walking to school behind a group of girls. Those girls were looking back at them and whispering and giggling among themselves.

Jack was feeling pretty confident that he and his buddy were the topic of their conversation. Especially since they kept looking back at them.

"Which one do you like?" Jack whispered. But when he looked at his friend, he didn't seem to be paying attention to what was going on.

"Huh?"

"Those girls," Jack whispered. "Which one would you go for?"

"I don't know. The blond one, I guess."

Jack laughed. "No way. What about the little exotic looking one? I like her way better."

"From what you were saying the other day, I thought you were into girls with freckles," Gabriel said, sounding a little bitter.

"Well, I like to stay open-minded in my tastes."

"Hey, Gabriel. You two are really close, huh?" one of the girls finally said.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Just shut up, Amanda."

The girls went back to giggling with each other and Jack looked confused. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Gabriel said. "Don't pay attention to them. It's what they want you to do."

Jack chuckled. "Fine. But maybe we should get you that blond's phone number."

Gabriel rolled his eyes yet again.

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Having a reputation as a 'good kid' had its advantages. Jack left his last class early so he could keep his eyes open for any unusual activity regarding writing on boys' bathroom walls.

He was in luck. Jack spotted a suspicious looking kid rushing down the hall and into the bathroom nearest his last class. Whether or not the kid saw him, he wasn't sure. Nor did he care.

Jack walked into the bathroom and sure enough, the kid was writing something on the wall. 'Gabriel luvs....' and then a horizontal line that could have been the beginning of the letter T.

"Hey!" Jack said, interrupting what the guy was doing. Upon closer inspection, Jack realized that he did recognize the kid. His name was Dustin and he was in Gabriel's last class. "You're the one who's bullying Gabriel?"

"Bullying? Of course not," the one by the name of Dustin said. "There's nothin' wrong with—"

"Hey!" Jack heard Gabriel say behind him.

"I'm glad you're here, Gabe. This has gone on long enough. Let's teach this guy a lesson," Jack said as he rolled up his sleeves. He had to admit, though, that he felt a little bad. This Dustin kid was way shorter and smaller than both he and Gabriel. Why was Gabriel allowing himself to be bullied by this little punk?

"We're not teaching anybody anything," Gabriel said to Jack.

"You're right. This has gone on long enough. I'll put a stop to it," the kid said. "But only if you let him see the inside of your locker, Gabriel."

Jack looked at them both strangely and he noticed that Gabriel's dark skin seemed to become flushed. And now that he thought about it, Jack had never seen the inside of Gabriel's locker. He'd never even been over there.

"Come on, Gabriel. You do this and I won't write on the walls anymore," Dustin told him.

"Fine. It's not really a big deal anyway," Gabriel said.

Jack was completely confused, but he followed the two teens to the lockers on their end of the hall. When Gabriel opened his locker, Jack saw that there were tons of pictures all over the insides of it. And they were all pictures of Jack.

"He's my best friend. Of course I have pictures of him everywhere," Gabriel said quietly.

Jack was flattered, but he also felt bad because he didn't have any pictures of Gabriel in his locker. "Wow. What a friend. Thanks, Gabe."

Dustin looked utterly astounded. "You always were slow on the uptake, huh, Jack?"

"Shut up, Dustin. Don't say that about him. You got what you wanted. Now, don't go around writing weird stuff on the walls anymore," Gabriel said. "Or I might start playing by my own rules. Got it?"

"Alright!" Dustin said. He was about to leave, but as he was passing by, he stood close to Jack and whispered, "The only reason someone keeps that many pictures of a person in their locker is if that person's a boyfriend, girlfriend or crush. Think about it."

With that, the weird kid left and Jack watched as Gabriel hurriedly shut his locker. The darker teen's face had become even more flushed, but he looked relieved. "Glad that's over. I'm gonna go clean that wall and then we can head home."

Of course Jack quietly went along to help Gabriel.

It took Jack a few minutes to put all the pieces together. When he thought about the first message he'd seen—'Reyes puts the GAY in Gabriel'—and the second message he'd seen—'Gabriel luvs', which was a partial message—and all the pictures of him in Gabriel's locker, he couldn't help making the connection.

Jack began feeling heat spread all over his face and up to his ears. "Gabe, can I ask you something?" he asked as they finished cleaning the wall.

"What is it?" Gabriel asked slowly, making sure not to look at his blond friend.

"Do...do you have a crush on me?" Jack asked.

"I don't know what that guy said to you, but are you really gonna believe everything you hear, Jack?" Gabriel asked, still not looking at him.

Jack quickly shook his head and laughed uncomfortably. "No, of course not. Besides, we've still gotta get that blond's phone number for you."

Part 2

#overwatch #fanfic #reaper76 #Jack Morrison #gabriel reyes #high school au #might be continued?

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