ɢʟᴀss Ʀᴏsᴇ's (ᴠ X ᴛᴀᴇ)
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - 𝟷
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀɴ ᴇᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs ʜᴇʀᴇ
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
sᴏ ʟᴇᴛ's ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ɢʟɪᴍᴘsᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
Elite places always smelled the same.
Polished floors. Old money. New lies.
Kim Taehyung learned that within a week of stepping into ʜᴀɴᴇᴜʟ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsɪᴛʏ, where ambition wore tailored coats and morality was optional if you could afford the cover charge.
By daylight, he was invisible in the safest way—perfect attendance, perfect grades, neutral smiles. Professors liked him. Students barely noticed him. That was intentional. When you had nothing backing you except grit and pride, you learned to stay small.
At night, Taehyung became deliberate.
Different clothes. Different posture. Same spine.
He never begged. Never lingered. Never crossed his own lines.
What he sold was time—not submission.
That mattered to him.
Self-respect wasn’t negotiable.
Kim Taehyung met V on a rainy Tuesday.
The kind of rain that makes glass buildings cry.
V was already in the dorm room when Taehyung arrived—lounging on the bed like the space belonged to him, suit jacket draped carelessly, sharp eyes cataloging everything in seconds.
Rich didn’t describe him properly.
V didn’t ask questions. He observed.
Didn’t introduce himself. He waited.
Finally said, voice low and smooth like a knife sliding back into its sheath
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Looks like it.
V smiled—not kind, not cruel. Interested.
That was Taehyung’s first mistake: mistaking curiosity for harmlessness.
ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ & sᴇᴏᴋᴊɪɴ — ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ
ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ, graduate researcher, walked like the world was a puzzle begging to be solved. Words spilled out of him—philosophy, ethics, truth. He believed systems could be fixed.
ᴋɪᴍ sᴇᴏᴋᴊɪɴ, law prodigy, believed people couldn’t.
They were lovers who debated like enemies and protected like brothers.
Namjoon noticed patterns. Seokjin erased problems.
When Namjoon first saw V watching Taehyung across the lecture hall, he muttered,
ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ
That’s not interest. That’s assessment.
Seokjin didn’t look up from his notes.
ᴋɪᴍ sᴇᴏᴋᴊɪɴ
Then someone should warn the kid.
Because warnings don’t stop collisions.
YOONGI & JIMIN — THE ONES WHO FELT TOO DEEPLY
Min Yoongi lived in soundproof rooms and underground studios, composing music that felt like bruises you pressed just to see if they still hurt.
Park Jimin danced like pain had taught him grace.
Jimin noticed Taehyung first.
Not the escort secret. The exhaustion.
ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ
You’re tired in a way sleep won’t fix
Jimin said once, handing him water after class.
Taehyung smiled politely. Lied beautifully.
Yoongi noticed V next—and didn’t like the way his gaze lingered.
ᴍɪɴ ʏᴏᴏɴɢɪ
That guy looks like trouble
ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ
They always do.
V discovered Taehyung’s secret two weeks later.
Not through stalking.
Through coincidence.
Wrong place. Wrong night. Right price list.
V didn’t confront him immediately.
Let Taehyung squirm in his own skin for days before finally speaking, casually, like discussing weather.
V said one night, leaning against the window.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You don’t beg. You leave first.
A pause. A glance sharp enough to cut.
V stepped closer. Too close.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because I want you to choose me
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Not because you have to—because you want to.
That was the moment Taehyung understood something terrifying.
He wanted ᴄᴏɴsᴇɴᴛ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ.
Outside, the rain struck the glass harder.
Inside, a rose began to crack.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ɪᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴡʜɪᴍᴘ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪs ɪᴛ
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ, sʜᴀʀᴇ
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀʟʏ
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏᴏɴ ɪɴ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀs ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴀᴢʏ 😪
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 — ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ
Silence wasn’t quiet in that room.
Taehyung sat on the edge of his bed, fingers clenched around his phone like it might bite back. V leaned against the wall, arms crossed, posture relaxed—too relaxed. Like a man who had already won something and was deciding how gently he wanted to claim it.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
I’m not most people.
There it was again—that look. Not hunger. Not pity. Calculation softened by interest. Like Taehyung was a locked door and V was enjoying the thought of choosing the key.
V said, voice low, unhurried
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
When I first realized what you were doing at night, I expected you to fall apart.
Taehyung’s jaw tightened.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Then you don’t know me.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You leave first. You don’t drink. You don’t let them touch your face. You always get paid upfront.
Taehyung stood so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You watched me.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You followed me.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I noticed you. There’s a difference.
The air felt thinner. Sharper.
Taehyung met his gaze then—eyes steady, spine straight, dignity intact even as his pulse thundered in his ears.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t own me
V pushed off the wall and took one step closer.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because I don’t want ownership.
CONTROL DOESN’T ALWAYS LOOK LIKE CHAINS
That was the cruelty of it.
Instead, he reached past Taehyung and picked up a folded piece of paper from the desk. The paper Taehyung hadn’t realized was missing from his bag.
Not complete. But enough.
V said, not threatening—stating.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Your scholarship. Your dorm. Your carefully balanced life.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Then why haven’t you?
V tilted his head. Studied him.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because I don’t destroy things I admire.
Something ugly twisted in Taehyung’s chest.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Don’t flatter yourself.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You’re not flattered. You’re angry.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Because you’re standing there pretending this is some kind of favor.
Taehyung laughed then—short, sharp, humorless.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You think silence is kindness?
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I think silence is leverage.
Taehyung turned away, walking to the window, pressing his palm flat against the cold glass. Outside, the campus glowed—safe, ignorant, clean. A lie.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
What do you want?
V didn’t answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was closer.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I want to keep you safe.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
From what? People like you?
V’s eyes darkened—not offended. Focused.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
From people worse than me.
PROTECTION IS A DANGEROUS PROMISE
The first time V intervened, it wasn’t dramatic.
Taehyung found out the next day when a regular client canceled suddenly—account frozen, investigation pending. The escort agency sent out a warning email that read like panic wrapped in corporate politeness.
Taehyung stared at his screen, heart pounding.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
He crossed a boundary.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t get to decide that!
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
When it involves you.
Taehyung’s voice shook despite his effort.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You’re controlling me.
V stepped closer—not invading, just present.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
No. I’m removing threats.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
That’s not your role.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Then tell me whose it is
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because you’re alone out there.
Taehyung hated him for knowing.
THE MIND IS THE FIRST THING TO BLEED
V didn’t demand anything. That was the trap.
He walked Taehyung to class sometimes. Sat beside him without touching. Left coffee on the desk—never sweetened, always exactly how Taehyung liked it.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
How do you know?
Taehyung started sleeping better.
Because comfort was how you got caught.
One night, after a particularly bad client interaction that left Taehyung shaking in a club bathroom, he didn’t call Jimin.
V arrived in ten minutes.
Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t scold. Just handed him a jacket and stood guard while Taehyung breathed through the aftermath.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You don’t owe me for this
Taehyung looked up, eyes glossy, jaw set.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Then why does it feel like I do?
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because you’re not used to being held without being bought.
DIGNITY IS NOT THE SAME AS PRIDE
But the tension lived between them like a third presence—watching, waiting.
He would not quit on V’s terms.
He would not confuse protection with possession.
One night, Taehyung said, voice raw
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
If I tell you to stop, will you?
That scared Taehyung more than no would have.
V leaned in—not close enough to touch.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because I want you choosing me awake, not cornered.
Heavy. Intimate. Dangerous.
Outside, rain streaked down glass like cracks.
Inside, Taehyung realized the truth he’d been avoiding:
And some small, traitorous part of him wanted to see what remained after.
Taehyung learned something dangerous that week.
Silence could feel like shelter.
That realization sat wrong in his chest, like a borrowed warmth he didn’t trust but couldn’t give back.
V didn’t mention the phone call again.
Didn’t bring up the client.
Didn’t remind Taehyung what he knew.
Which somehow made everything louder.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
sᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ?
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴀʀᴇ.
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3 — ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇʀᴍs ᴏғ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ
Every time Taehyung walked across campus and felt eyes slide past him without stopping, he wondered if that was coincidence—or V’s hand, unseen, adjusting the world just enough to keep him untouched.
Protection, done right, was invisible.
That scared him more than control ever could.
The first rule appeared without being spoken.
V started walking him home every night.
Not holding hands. Not touching. Just there—always a half-step behind, like a shadow that chose him.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t have to
Taehyung said on the third night.
That answer tasted wrong. Want was never neutral.
Taehyung stopped arguing after that.
Arguing meant engagement.
And cracks were where V lived.
One evening, Taehyung came back to the dorm to find V on the phone, voice low, tone unreadable.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I don’t care what you paid.
Another pause. Sharper this time.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
If you try again, you’ll lose more than access.
Taehyung stood frozen in the doorway.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Was that about me?
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You promised no ownership.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I promised no coercion
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
There’s a difference.
That should have angered him.
Instead, Taehyung felt something colder slide down his spine.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You’re deciding things ғᴏʀ me.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I’m preventing things ғʀᴏᴍ happening to you.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
That’s not your right.
The room held its breath.
Taehyung opened his mouth.
V watched him—not triumphantly, not cruelly. Patient. Like he already knew the answer and was giving Taehyung space to reach it himself.
Finally, Taehyung said quietly
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Not like this.
Taehyung’s nights grew shorter.
Not because of clients—but because his thoughts wouldn’t settle.
He’d lie awake, replaying moments:
V standing too close but never touching.
V remembering details Taehyung hadn’t shared.
V stepping in front of danger without announcing himself as savior.
Taehyung had learned intimacy with a price tag attached.
This one came wrapped in silence and choice—and that was harder to fight.
One night, after a long shift at the club, Taehyung came home shaking.
Not crying. Never crying.
V looked up from the couch.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
No questions?
V fetched a glass of water and placed it in Taehyung’s hand. Their fingers brushed—barely.
Taehyung pulled back instinctively.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You should guard yourself.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You’re telling me this while dismantling my life?
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I’m telling you this because of that
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I don’t want obedience. I want boundaries that matter.
That twisted deeper than cruelty ever could.
He said one afternoon, sitting beside Taehyung in the library.
ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ
But not sad-quiet. Alert-quiet.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You always read too much into things.
ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ
So does Yoongi.
Across the room, Yoongi’s gaze flicked briefly toward V—who sat two tables away, pretending to read while clearly listening.
ᴍɪɴ ʏᴏᴏɴɢɪ
Not loud-dangerous. Strategic-dangerous.
ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ
But is he hurting Tae?
That silence said enough.
The agency collapsed quietly.
No headlines. No scandal.
Just accounts frozen. People disappearing from lists. A structure dismantled without noise.
Taehyung found out from a burner email: ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ sʜᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴜs.
He stared at the screen, heart racing.
This wasn’t protection anymore.
Taehyung said that night, voice steady but eyes burning.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You said you wouldn’t control my choices.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I said I wouldn’t force you
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
I removed the option that was killing you.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
That was my choice!
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
And it was destroying you.
Taehyung’s hands curled into fists.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t get to decide when I’m allowed to suffer.
V’s voice softened dangerously.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
You think suffering is proof of strength.
V continued, quiet and precise.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
It isn’t. Endurance without care is just slow self-erasure.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
That’s rich coming from someone like you.
That honesty cracked something open.
Taehyung’s voice dropped.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Then why help me?
V answered without hesitation.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Because you never begged.
That night, Taehyung did something reckless.
Not submissive. Not yielding.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t own me
He said again, softer now.
V’s breath hitched—just slightly.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t get to rewrite my past.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
You don’t get to touch me unless I ask.
And for the first time, Taehyung was the one holding it.
The escort life was gone.
Not replaced. Just… absent.
Taehyung worked part-time at the library now. Slept more. Ate better.
Still guarded. Still sharp.
When Taehyung studied, V studied.
When Taehyung stayed silent, V respected it.
When Taehyung snapped, V absorbed it without retaliation.
But it wasn’t domination.
And Taehyung hated how safe it felt.
Taehyung stood at the window, watching lights blur.
V didn’t pretend surprise.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Of wanting this
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
Of letting you matter.
V stepped closer—but stopped himself.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴠ
Is the only reason this isn’t a cage.
ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ
And if I fall?
V met his eyes, something unguarded flickering there.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ ɪᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪᴛ's ᴏᴋᴀʏ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs, ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀ ɢʜᴏsᴛ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴs, ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ sᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴘᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴀʀᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴇʟᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ sᴛᴏʀʏ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ 😪
ʙᴜɪ ʙᴜɪ, sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.
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