Taekook Oneshots

King

"Jeon Jungkook! Let go of the weapon now! Put your hands up! Now!"

I roll my eyes, placing my sword on the ground. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," I mutter under my breath, allowing the guard to tie my hands up behind my back. "I swear I was just sparring. That's not illegal. But I suppose you're just desperate to arrest someone, huh?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "Who are you trying to impress? The prince?"

The guard scowls, tugging on the restraints to check them before dragging me towards the prison, an irritated expression on his face. "Ah, so it's the prince," I say, realising that I've struck a nerve. "I guess he is kinda hot, but he's a prince. He's been arranged to marry someone since before he was born. Surely you're aware of that?"

"I'm not attracted to his majesty, " the guard grumbles, freezing completely at the sight of the (admittedly gorgeous) future king. "Oh fuck."

"Good morning, Taehyung," I say politely, smirking slightly at the shock on the guard's face, "how're you on this fine day?" The ethereal prince in question rolls his eyes, waking over to me slowly, one hand on the hilt of the sword at his own waist, the other swinging by his side.

"What did you do this time, you child?" he questions tiredly, glancing at the guard with an annoyed expression. I just shrug.

"I was sparring by myself, and mr 'I don't know what practice is' decided that you're so attractive that he needed to arrest me for having my sword out during daytime or some shit like that," I explain.
"Watch your language, you're talking to royalty," the guard hisses in my ear, and Taehyung laughs, the sound as melodic and beautiful as always.

"Trust me, that's not the worst I've heard from him. Nowhere near the worst."
"I think you'll find it's the other way round, Your Royal Highness," I retort cheekily, chuckling as his cheeks go red at the reference. "As far as I remember, anyway," I add, and he rolls his eyes again, walking closer.

"And, if my memory serves me right," Taehyung returns just as mischievously after a few seconds of thought, "you were using the same language as me. You were enjoying yourself, just as I was."
"Oh, but Your Highness," I say, dropping to one knee dramatically, lowering my head, "I would only give the best to you."

I hear his sharp intake of breath, the swish of metal sliding against metal, and feel the cold point of his sword pressing into the root of my tongue, not enough to hurt or cut the skin, between my jaw and neck. "Just as you should," he says breathily, and I manage a smirk, flicking my gaze up to look up at him teasingly through my fringe.
"And have I ever let you down?" I ask in response.

He just smiles slightly, nodding and lifting the sword away from me, sheathing it quickly. "Release him," he orders the guard, who's been standing there the whole time, baffled.
"But he was-"
"Sparring? Sounds like him. It's not illegal to practice your art, especially when you're the prince's consort," Taehyung interrupts calmly, raising an eyebrow at the poor man, who now nods and hurriedly unties my hands.

"Jeez, sometimes I wish the rest of your subjects knew who I really was, so they'd stop this from constantly happening," I complain, as Taehyung grabs my hand, pulling me back up to my feet. "Thanks for your help here, though."
"Not a problem. I'll talk to my parents, see what they say. They're still a bit shy of having a gay son, but they'll have to deal with it once you turn eighteen and we get married. We can't hide ourselves forever."

"I suppose that's true," I agree, smiling a little, fondly. "It's funny, in a way. I had to pretend you were engaged since before your birth, when in reality your parents are awesome and let you choose your own love. If you were arranged, you'd be with a girl."