#mafia ot7

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn��t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

[wooataes]

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

[forthechubbies]

Seven Days to your heart {Rated: X}° Drabble Redemption Pile

Idol! Jungkook x Chubby!Reader

! Toxic relationship,Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, and aggressively loving Jungkook

It took place during a romantic meal with candles. Naturally supported by jungkook, your covert sweetheart. The seductive thrill of secrecy quickly started to fade. And you both uncomfortably aware of it. -

" Jungkook. "

He may be so childish at times, "No. "I hate it when you sound like that," He declares with a cute-pout.

You scoffed. "Well, this is not going away." You do something you'll soon regret when you finally reach across the little coffee table to meet eyes. Your boyfriend's bulging red eyes made your heart swell as you said, "Look at -." Is this why it's so dark in here? "..

You signed, planting a small peck to his forehead. " We need to talk about it. "

Your love is disintegrating right before your eyes. The last thing jungkook needs is to be in a relationship given the international rumors, his separation, the threats, the stress, and his work. He hardly ever has time to take a shower.. -

" I'm doing this for - "

"My own good—what a load of bullshit." He struck the table as he got up and walked away.He patted his pockets.

You stared at him at first, unable to speak. "Bullshit! You're only kidding yourself if you believe this will work." As you were tidying up jungkook's mess, you spoke the truth. "You don't even have time for yourself. not to mention me.

"You haven't even tried, you-! The fuck!" A white pack of cigarettes fell from Jungkook's jacket's pockets after a strong shake. A lot of celebrities wed regular folks. "Why can't we be like them?" As he walked to the porch to smoke, he yelled angrily.

When did he start smoking? As hot as he looks you couldn't help but worry . " because you receiving death threats when we hadn’t even public about any of thing.." You can't find the words to express the feeling in your heart. "Just think for once. "

He chuckled. " I'm not worried about threats, sweetheart., " he promised; releasing smoke through his nose.

It's tough to believe a hard headed man-like him can walk this earth. " Are you even listening to me?! "

" I guess I have to love you harder than if the problem is you want more attention." The alcohol must finally be getting to him, he blew his pull before pulling you in close. "Whatever my baby want. She gets.."Kook snaked behind you; trapping you in his arms.

Your attempt to ignore him as he lapped up the vulnerable region between your ear and neck backfired as you rolled your eyes. He nearly won, but you changed your mind.You pushed him away and said, "This isn't a negotiation; kook," as you made your way to the entrance. "We are done."

The brute idol clutched you back by your plump waist as you dashed to the door with your heels clicking. Jungkook didn't take long to push his hands up your dress and stick his tongue down your throat.

The entire evening was hazy. As jungkook threw you over his shoulder, the last flashing memory was of the entrance door.

Next morning

Due to Jungkook's absence, you welcomed the sun alone.

While you slept off your tiredness, a series of messages informed you of what was occurring. He was laughing and grinning while you were out only a few hours before, he had left your poor soul with bite marks, handprints, and among other things.

Sleeping with your supposed ex is not how you want to start your Monday.

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal (Series Masterlist) [PAUSED]

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the habits

— summary: you are a weapon and weapons do not weep

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset

— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost

One.

Two.

Three.

The seconds will pass. The minutes will fly. The hours will go.

You’re alright.

Endure it. Endure it.

It will pass.

Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.

In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.

Eventually.

Eventually.

You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—

“What are you doing?!”

You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.

Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.

“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.

He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.

Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them. 

Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.

And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.

You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.

“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.

Paralyzed.

Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”

Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.

That he, too, had reverted back to the past.

When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.

He reverted back just as you had.

Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.

Two little kids.

You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.

But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.

When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.

The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.

The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.

You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.

You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.

And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.

Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.

Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.

Anyone else.

He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.

Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”

You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.

He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.

Of a child.

He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.

Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.

“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.

“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.

“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.” 

You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.

All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.

For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.

Or rather, he was the war itself.

You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.

You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.

“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.

Because weapons do not weep.

And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.

“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.

“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”

There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.

“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”

“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.

“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”

He. Your father.

“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.

“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.

With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.

One. Two. Three…

It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.

It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.

There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.

There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.

The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

.

.

.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.

“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”

Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.

Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.

Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.

Under scrutiny.

“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.

“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”

“I told him something he didn’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it. 

And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.

“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”

No.

No, not at all.

You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.

You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.

You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.

The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.

“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.

You lie because you have to.

“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”

His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”

“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”

“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”

No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.

“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”

You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it. 

Every bit of this.

“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.

Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.

It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.

“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”

He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.

“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.

“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”

“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.

“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”

But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.

Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.

It’s been a little over a month.

Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.

Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.

He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.

“..Kook.”

You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.

He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.

“Do you need something?”

It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.

“When are they coming?”

“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.

“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.

“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”

You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting? 

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”

For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.

You look exhausted.

The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.

Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.

“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.

“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”

He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.

“Jungkook?”

“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”

“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.

In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.

“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”

Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him. 

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”

“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”

“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”

“Bruises?”

“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.

Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.

“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.

“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.

When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.

Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.

About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.

It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.

Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.

And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.

You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.

It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.

Somehow.

And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision. 

Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.

Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.

“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.

“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”

“...Do I now?”

“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.

You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”

From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.

But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.

He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.

If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.

“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.

He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.

.

.

.

Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.

A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.

He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.

Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.

Feeding you to the wolves.

He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.

But nothing turned out alright.

In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.

While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?

The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?

“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.

You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you. 

A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers. 

Then another.

Then another.

And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.

You don’t resist.

“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.

You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.

Vacant.

Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”

If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?

Jungkook wishes he could have been better.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Most to Least In Denial Member from my Mafia World

All bcos I couldn’t sleep.

1. Taehyung

Man’s clinically diagnosed psychopath. He’s very much aware that something’s not right with him and he doesn’t care. So of course he thought that he couldn’t feel anything. And of course he couldn’t understand why he’s feeling that way for her. And of course, he’ll stalk her and annoy her to figure out what is it with her that makes him feel emotions.

2. Seokjin

Eh. The most chaotic and in denial man after Tae Tae. Man is so confused and quite frankly, disgusted by his feelings. But did that stop him from buying a house for them to grow old one night when he was drunk??? Nope.

3. Yoongi

The leader aka the bloodthirsty fool. Man’s really not in denial, he was just ehem…slow to realize his feelings. And of course, you guys knew that it was already too late the moment he realized. He was already in too deep. And nope. He’ll never even try to help himself 😮‍💨

4. Namjoon

This man is too focused on his career that he really didn’t take his sweet time to understand his feelings. Mostly, he’s just happy everytime she’s near. He only really acknowledges his love for her when she becomes pregnant 🤓

5. Jimin

Ah, girl, the moment she defended him was the moment he accepted that she was going to be someone to him. He is aware that the bestfriend thingy he has going on with her would one day bite him in the ass.

6. Jungkook

Man is smitten. Everyone knows. He even announces it in his company website 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Hobi

Man’s obsessed.

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

Whoever is doing these edits you need to seriously staph😭

Caus you are singlehandedly causing enough destruction

🌚

[hobicakess]

UNTITLED

Summary: In which Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook see your true colors.

PAIRING: Hyungline x MC | Maknaeline

GENRE: PWP

RATING: 18+ ( you are in control of what you consume.. i am not a babysitter. )

TAGS: Foursomes, Cum Eating , Facials , Spanking , MeanDom!Seokjin , Dom!Hyungline , Poor Mankae :( , Plus-sized!MC , Degrading Names , Polygamous Jin & MC , Consenual Recording , Cheating? Not Really ,Bondage..

A/N: A little something because Chopstick Part 2 is still actively in the works.

The camera panned in on you; your hands were tied up behind your back, and you kneeled in the middle of the bed. There were a few shuffles before one of their Hyungs came into the camera kneeling beside you.

They watched his hands glide down and under your flimsy skirt, gripping a hand full of your chunky ass his other hand went to pull your shirt up over your boobs.

They almost drolled at the sight of your tummy.  Watching your brown nipples go hard instantly as you panted and squirmed, trying to push back onto Namjoon. 

He did allow it till another familiar tsking voice came from behind the camera. “That’s enough” Seokjin came from behind the camera, making Namjoon pull away from you.

You whined and grumbled, making Jin take a handful of your hair into his hands, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. 

“You know Namjoonie let her get what she wants.” Hoseok giggled. Yoongi's deep hum in agreement from behind the camera made the audio shake for a second.

“That’s why she’s a brat now.” Jin removed his fingers from your mouth and shoved your cheek into the bed sheets. 

Namjoon's hand went to the middle of your back “Come on baby arch, pretty for us.” You mewled and deepened the arch in your back and made a show of wiggling your ass to which Jin smacked your thigh.

“Don’t be such a slut” landing another hard smack on the insides of your thighs making a high pitched moan leave your lips.

“Fuck lemme have her.” Yoongi said as he walked from behind the camera, and that’s when the video cut to you with a face being decorated with Yoongis thick white cum, you tongue sticking out to catch whomever was next. Spilling over the wet and pink musle, you swallow happily eyes, glossy and makeup smudged.

"Good girl" Hoseok hummed, softening cock slapping your cheek..

PRESENT

The three maknae stared wide eyed pupils blown, dicks hard, and sweaty at there hyungs laptop. They didn’t exactly know about what type of relationship you had with their elders. You were married to Seokjin, and they’ve never seen much PDA between the two of you.

A while ago, they caught you making out with Yoongi, and they reported it to Jin, but he didn’t do anything about it. His response to it was unbothered.

"Thank you for telling me, boys." Then he returned back to working. Maybe it was an open relationship thing? but they’ve yet to see Seokjin with another woman. Their elder seemed rather disgusted and cold when it came to interacting with other women that weren't you.

Maybe it was a sharing thing? To repay their other hyungs for their contributions to Jins company.

They didn’t intend to find this tape, and it’s not that they were snooping around. No, they'd never!! it’s just you asked them to go get Jin’s laptop, and when Taehyung pressed it on to see if it was charged, boom, there it was.

“Boys?” Your flowery voice called, and Jimin was able to snatch the hard drive out and press the power button on the computer. “What are you guys doing?” You smiled, looking nothing like the woman you were in the video.

You were wearing a pink sundress with brown wedges. Your light makeup was intact, not running down your cheeks, and hair was pinned up pretty with small coils on each side of your ears. Face clear and clean, embodying a feminine sweet and innocent housewife, they wondered if you had freaky twin because they couldn't believe it.

“The laptop was dead so we were looking for a charger ma’am.” 

“Oh! Well it’s fine then, I wanted to go out and get some more ingredients for dinner anyways” you waved at them to follow, turning on your heels to walk away. It took everything in them not to look at your ass as you walked away.

Later that day, the eight of you were gathered around the dinner table.

“Darling, did you go into my office today?” Jungkook choked on some of his rice, Taehyung and Jimin stopped mid chewing.

“Oh yeah! I had the boys go in to grab your laptop, but I changed my mind.” Jin eyed Mankae before turning to his wife. "Hm, I'm missing our Flash drive." That's when everyone stopped eating.

"Which flashdrive?" Namjoon asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose."The special movie." All eyes looked over to the three younger men who were sweating and shaking. Jimin gulped, deciding to be the one to speak up. "We didn't see a flashdrive, sir."

Seokjin eyed him carefully, then picked up his Chopsticks. "Hm must have moved it somewhere."

The tension loosened, and the three breathed as dinner went on again with you urging them to eat more.

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 3

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: taehyung x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 6k

warnings: explicit smut, rough penetrative unprotected sex, creampie, PRAISE KINK, degradation kink, dirty talk, lap dance, begging, petnames, some switch!tae action?, light choking, tae loves him sum ass, grinding, neediness/stuttering, oral (f), sexual tension, teasing, todays theme is LYING, manipulation, possessive behavior, mourning/fear, mentions of traumatic events, guns!, light violence/abuse, bad coping skills, drug use, obsessive themes, blackmail, gambling, psychiatric facilities and treatment **this is not realistic!!! the yandere is starting to show a lil oop, heartbreak, betrayal, but also like cute moments with tae, TWISTS AND TURNS BB this one kinda wild but not as wild as the next ones gonna be ;)

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Lost in the soft crinkling of flames, a young Jeon Jungkook hides—fearfully quivering inside his pantry. Heart racing with fear, hatred, all boiled up into his shaking hands. They had come to his house, tearing through it like it was nothing. Jungkook could merely watch as these suited men with their large guns trashed his home, breaking everything left and right while he hid, helpless. Utterly powerless.

Dad—his mind is spinning.

So he ran. Through the narrow alleys of the outer city. Stacked thing between tall, worn-down buildings—factories, apartments, grey smoke clouding the dark sky lit only by a gold shadow.

A sick feeling in his gut. A nasty premonition sending warning through his veins. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pausing a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t, not when sharp footsteps could be heard so near. He slipped behind a dumpster, hand pressed firmly against his chest as if it would muffle the pounding beats.

 “You think you can get away with what you have done?”

Jungkook peeked out, eyes widening as he saw his father—on the ground, face covered in bruises with pure fear in his eyes. Unable to see much else. From the sounds of it, there must have been two or three others, but speaking was only one.

“I—I’m sorry” His father pressed his palms together, begging for forgiveness. Shame burned through Jungkook’s cheeks as he watched his father lay on his stomach, reaching for the shoes of the man who addressed him. “Forgive me, sir”

“Taehyung-ah” The voice addressed someone else, “Is this him?”

No response was heard. A moment passed. Seemingly, the slowest couple seconds Jungkook had ever lived.

And then there were gunshots. Jungkook shoved the side of his hand in his mouth, biting down as screams overtook him. Tears poured down his face—he couldn’t watch. He hugged his knees to his chest, sliding down the rough walls.

He heard the man spit on his father. He waited until the right moment before peering over the side one last time to see who it was.

He didn’t recognize the man. It was too dark to see his face but there was a vicious hate in his eyes. An anger that elicited fear from any who saw. His eyes diverted then to a younger boy by his side, trembling as he clung to the man’s sleeve.

“Hyung stop, please” The boy, clearly traumatized, was balling. “Let’s go home hyung”

The man smirked, dusting himself off before he lifted the younger boy into his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, let’s go home now, Taehyung”

-

The precinct was dimly lit. A sickly sheen reflecting from grimy tiled floors, walls with peeling paint, haphazard desks, stacks of manilla files. At this late hour, only a few officers remained, the stench of tobacco making your nose scrunch.

Jungkook ignored their disrespectful ogles. That Jeon, lucky fucker—pretty girl in cuffs tonight. He hovered his palm over the small of your back as though he were shielding you from their judgement.

You didn’t want his protection.

The interrogation room had a deadening silence. Your mind scrambling, attempting to piece together your next play. Your next lie.

A large, mirrored wall stared back at you—face to face with your opponent for the night. Could you keep it together? Or would you let Jin tear you apart from beyond the grave?

Jungkook’s fingers danced on the back of your neck, making you shudder. Unconsciously you arced your back to his touch, shocks down your spine as he unclipped your choker. He held it in his palm for a moment. The annoyed look in those dark eyes of his, as his fingers traced over the diamonds.

“Are these real?” You knew your answer would only piss him off, so you said nothing. Instead he took a seat across from you. A small pile of documents in front of him.

In front of you was a small machine. A polygraph. Jungkook placed the sensors on the inside of your wrist, ignoring the way you trembled at his cold touch. He was being careful. Your tears had the effect you had hoped. You could tell. His small gestures—your sadness made him uncomfortable. Stepping away, he observed you carefully.

“Did you know Jin was seeing someone?”

Typical Jeon Jungkook, you mused. To the point. No bullshit. Except you weren’t prepared. His questionrang in your ears. He was seeing someone.

“I didn’t” You said it, because it was true. Thinking back to the night. The kiss that had been years in the making. The kind of thing that inspired song—filled childish dreams. The kiss that wakes the princess up from a poison slumber. Instead, Jin’s kiss pulled you into his nightmare.

Jungkook bit back a smirk.

“Who?” Your voice was embarrassingly hoarse. Jealousy lacing every word.

You knew Jungkook must be enjoying watching you suffer. You’d be damned if you’d give him the satisfaction. Your nails were digging into your palms—the pain distracting from the pulsing hopelessness beating through your veins.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This was a game. It had to be. You didn’t know how—you didn’t know why. Somehow Jin was still fucking with you. Would he really have hidden something like that from you? A relationship. Had he loved them? Had he loved you? He said he did. Over and over and over again. You wondered if the meaning had faded.

Jungkook motioned to the document, “Namjoon didn’t want to force you into this marriage. Seokjin signed over Kim Enterprises to Namjoon in exchange for a promise of your engagement to Kim Taehyung, as well as control of Nexus—which is your mother’s company—right?”

The trick in poker, Jin had said—never let them know what you’re thinking.

Use pain. Focus on the most painful sensation in your body. It wipes your face of your real thoughts.

“I did not” The polygraph twitched.

“Interesting. Because all of these things combined give you a lot of motive to want Seokjin gone” Jungkook finally took a seat in front of you. “I wouldn’t blame you. They ruined my life too. Stole everything from me”

You stayed quiet. Jungkook was a new opponent. You weren’t familiar with how he played, yet.

“They killed my dad, ten years ago. Your mom disappeared too, didn’t she?”

Ten years ago. No bodies were found. No deaths declared. No explanation nor closure. Jin was there for you then, arms wide open to accept you in. Later the same year, Taehyung was sent away. You moved in immediately. You never asked why. You assumed it was what your mother would have wanted. The Kim’s took care of you, nursed you back to life. Jin, especially. He had always loved you so much.

Jin was seeing someone.

“Ever wondered what really happened to her?”

Your eyes were watery. Red with anger. You stared at him with hatred seething through your teeth.

“I know what happened to her”

The polygraph twitched. Jungkook grinned.

“Maybe we can help each other out then”

“Hi princess”

Jungkook released you shortly after. Walking out of the precinct, hands rubbing against the raw imprints of the cuffs, you saw a white sports car. Standing by the door with a dozen roses in his hand, was Taehyung.

Smiling softly, he welcomed you. He really was extremely attractive, eyes so magnetic you simply couldn’t look away. Pulling you into his space. He gave you a light hug—respectful yet comforting.

Jin died. He’s dead. “I need to go home,”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “I know” Is all he said. His eyes sparkled as he let his lips graze your forehead. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through”

Your heart pulsed. Taehyung had always been selfless. You crumbled into his kindness. Resting your face against his chest. Alone—the ungodly hour. The parking lot of the precinct. The faint sound of crows on the horizon.  

“I missed you” He exhaled, meeting your gaze. “You have no idea how bad I missed you, princess”

The petname stung. You wondered if it always would. For Taehyung, you were his princess. For you, you were Jin’s. His princess, his love, his everything.

Because Taehyung hadn’t been here. He left you.

“If you missed me, why didn’t you just come home?” Your voice was shaking. “You never called. Never wrote. You even missed the funeral”

Taehyung let the roses fall from his hand. Gently he stroked your back, swaying your body side to side.

“I promise I will tell you everything, but right now just let me hold you”

The moment retreated into silence. Nothing but the slight swing of your hips. Taehyung’s hands explored your back, stroking you gently. His steady heartbeat lulling you into a sense of ease. He kissed the top of your head, humming softly.

After some time, Taehyung cupped your cheek. You looked at him questioningly.

“Let’s get you home”

Yoongi arrived in the precinct the next morning. His eyes crusty, dark circles from the night he lay away—in front of his computer digging for the truth. He was obsessed. It occurred to him how pathetic he was being. An ex-boyfriend trying to prove his girlfriend’s fiancée was no good. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

From his understanding, Park Jimin was a practicing psychologist. His age matched Taehyung’s—meaning the plausibility of Taehyung simply going under an alias was still there. He had no way to connect Park Jimin to the Kim family—at least not publicly.

But Yoongi had seen one too many serial killer movies. He thought of how brilliant it could be for someone to kill the only living person who knew what Kim Taehyung looked like to take his place. Whether he was right or not, he needed you to be safe. You were currently off with this man doing who knows what—the thought alone disgusted him.

He wanted to tear all the tiny fingers off that wretched heir. He wanted to burn him into the ground.

“Min Yoongi” The detective arrived in the room where he sat, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hi sir—yes, you’re Jeon Jungkook right? The detective investigating Kim Seokjin’s murder?”

Jungkook nodded slightly.

“I was wondering if you had information on Kim Taehyung” Yoongi gulped, pulling out his phone. He slid it over to Jungkook who looked at the screen skeptically. “That man—that’s Park Jimin. But—” His voice was a stuttering mess. But Jungkook deduced what he was trying to say.

“This is Kim Taehyung” Jungkook grumbled. “Interesting”

“I couldn’t find a connection. I was hoping maybe you would be able to use police resources to see? I’m just worried. He could be Jin’s killer”

Jungkook took a seat, pulling out his laptop. After scrolling for some time he paused. Chewing his lip.

“Who else have you told about this?”

Yoongi shook his head. “N-no one, I noticed it yesterday. He has a tattoo that I don’t think he should have if he was really Kim Taehyung because Taehyung wasn’t there when his mom died and Y/n said that—”

Jungkook held his hand up, “Breathe” He instructed firmly. Yoongi gasped. His palms were sweaty. Eyes quivering. “Y/n—are you a friend of hers?”

Yoongi’s movements stilled. “Um, kindof.”

“Ah, so you were fucking her” Jungkook folded his arms over his chest. “So you had motive”

Yoongi huffed, “I wouldn’t be here if I had something to hide”

Jungkook hummed in agreement. “Well Min Yoongi…looks like you might be onto something. Park Jimin was a registered patient at the Children’s Correctional Clinic ten years ago. That’s when Taehyung left—isn’t it? It looks like they must have altered his identity to protect their family or something”

“I see…that makes sense, I guess.”

“Don’t poke holes, these guys don’t play around Yoongi” Jungkook warned, shutting his laptop. “They do stuff like this all the time. Digging will only put you on their radar.”

Yoongi nodded, thanking him for his time. He hopped into his car—googling Children’s Correctional Clinic on his phone.

He called the number.

“Namjoon” Hobi emerged from his room, nothing but a fluffy blue robe adorning his figure. Outside the window, the late morning sunrays of Paris glimmered through into the penthouse. Hobi never stayed in one place too long, but he made enough to have multiple permanent homes. He preferred the consistency. He had lots of things he liked to collect—he was a hoarder, if you will. “I cannot keep harboring a fugitive”

Namjoon sat at the piano, glasses on the rim of his nose, staring at the document in his hand. “You knew about this—and you didn’t tell me?” His hand was shaking.

In his hands was his mother’s will.

In his hands, was all he ever dreamed.

“He wasn’t exactly eager to share the information” Hoseok sighed, walking up to Namjoon. He curled his fingers around his shoulders, massaging him gently. “Took some persuading—God, you’re so stiff you need to relax. Stress looks horrible on you, Joonie”

Stepping away, Hoseok slid open a mini decorative jar, studded with little jewels. Inside was a small bout of white power. Taking the matching little spoon he poured a little bit out onto a tray. Reaching into his robe’s pockets, he pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Rolling it up, he inhaled the powder quickly. “You want some?”

Namjoon ignored him, simply too stunned to react.

“Jin never got the company. I just never knew because he went to the will hearing while I,”

Hobi gave him a knowing look, “You need to forgive yourself. God knows she’s moved on. Honestly she’s better off for it, she’s killing it now”

Namjoon winced, recalling what he had done to you that night. It had all been for nothing—him crushing your spirit. The dirty deals he made with his brother the very next day, signing away things that were rightfully his—rightfully yours—without even realizing.

There could have been a different story. He could have gone to the will hearing. He could have had more faith in himself instead of stopping so low he needed to hurt Jin before he even had a reason. Maybe you would still like him. He would have learned to love you back. Maybe things could have been simple.

“He tricked all of us”

“That’s Seokjin for ya” Hobi sighed, walking over to the wall. It was decorated with a line of automatic rifles. No bullets, of course, but he liked to show off his collection. Reaching, he dismantled one. A personal favorite. A gift. Toying with the weapon in his hand, he smirked, “Greedy little fucker, that one. But Joonie I gotta ask, and you know I support you no matter what” He turned again. “Was it you? Did you kill your brother?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I don’t remember. But yeah, it’s possible”

The man at the clinic handed Yoongi a box. “These are all of our visitor logs from ten years ago. Hopefully that helps”

Thanking him, Yoongi immediately began digging through the files. He scanned the names of the visitors—until his eyes narrowed down—Kim Seokjin. So, he had been here.

Tracing the row with his finger, he noticed the patient Jin had come to see—patient ID 1230. Setting it aside, he pulled out another stack of files—room assignments. He located the patient ID, registered under KTH. Kim Taehyung. His roommate was patient 1013.

“Excuse me, do you know who I should talk to if I am trying to find someone who was admitted here?” Yoongi called out to the receptionist.

“Usually patient files are confidential, sir. But when most of our patients grow too old for our facility, they get transferred to another luxury facility, The Rose House.

“Perfect, thank you so much”

Everything reminded you of him.

The same steps you used to fall down. He’d reach out his hand, pull you up, not letting go until you’d stop crying. Your room—the doorway in which he would come in, leaning against the frame as he would ask you about your day. His room, where you would sneak into at night, snacks in your hand, getting high under the stars.

The bathroom where you stared at your own face. Instead, you saw him. Smiling. As he would place the choker around your neck. I got you this. Happy birthday, princess. Diamonds suit you. You gasped—turning the sink on. Letting it fill to the rim. You ducked your head down, letting the cool sensation cover your face.

You held your breath.

You won’t lose me, ever.

This was all your fault. Wasn’t it?

“Y/n!”

Dizzy—you blinked as a hand pulled you back. It was Taehyung, eyes quivering with worry.

“What the fuck” He mumbled, grabbing a towel, and wiping your face. You sighed, helplessly. The last thing you wanted was a confrontation. It was just something you liked to do—it helped you clear your mind. God knows what Taehyung thought he was walking in on.

Taehyung stared at you, dabbing your wet skin.

“You’re hurting” He said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes”

Stopping his movements, you shook your head. “I’m alright, Taehyung. Go back to sleep”

Taehyung pouted. You smiled immediately, remembering how bratty he used to be. He would hate seeing you sad—always wanting to see you smile.

“I honestly can’t sleep” He confessed, setting the towel aside. “It feels strange, being back”

You understood. Ten years was a long time—specifically to be the age Taehyung had been gone for. He was a little kid, and now he was a man. If you had met him on the street you probably wouldn’t have even recognized him.

“Do you wanna sleep in my room? I don’t really mind. It’s pretty fucking big” You chuckled. Taehyung gave an eager smile, nodding quickly.

“That would be great, noona” You scrunched your nose in distaste. Taehyung giggled. “No? No noona? Alright I’ll just stick to princess Y/n” He poked you playfully.

You rolled your eyes, pinching his cheek fondly.

Guns. Guards. Yoongi shuddered nervously as he stared at the facility gate. It looked less like a hospital, more like a resort. He would expect nothing less for the Kim prince.

“I’m here to see Kim Taehyung” The words left his mouth before he could even process them.

“Right this way” Yoongi exhaled in relief. He followed the receptionist into the space. Palm trees all around. A group doing yoga. Another painting flowers. Some people simply meditating on their own.  

Not a bad set up. Yoongi mused.

“Mr. Kim isn’t in this wing” The receptionist noticed Yoongi looking around, confused. “We keep extreme cases in the basement”

The basement. He followed the receptionist down a dark series of stairs. Opening the door, he squinted. The white light was nauseating. Slick like a hospital, nurses scurrying about. The rooms were glass. Walls plain.

Just looking at it made him feel crazy.

 “Don’t worry, they can’t see you” Yoongi stared at the patients, each in their own space, some crying, some screaming, some staring aimlessly into space. “They’re treated well. Get to go outside, supervised, at scheduled times. They eat, sleep. See their doctor. All from rich families so, money serves them good”

They halted at the end of the hall. Yoongi peered into the room. A man sat on the bed, legs crossed casually, reading a book.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. The resemblance to his mother was uncanny.

“Buzz if you need anything” The receptionist walked away. Gulping, Yoongi carefully opened the door.

The man’s eyes shifted in his direction. Carefully he set the book down.

“T-Taehyung?”

He stared at Yoongi for a while. As though he was trying to figure out who he was. Finally, a smile crawled onto his face.

“Ding ding ding” His grin widened, “We have a winner”

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Fingers tracing the lacey ends of the stockings as you pulled them up to the top of your thighs. The small floral pattern, dainty and delicately crafted, fit for an angel.

Your lips quivered at the irony.

Jin had bought it for you. Jin had bought a lot of things for you. Gifts or on request. He never denied you of anything material thing you could ever want.

The bathroom was cold, as the stocking did little to subdue the goosebumps running up and down your legs. You shivered, reaching for your lip gloss—the final touches.

Taking a deep breath, you exited the bathroom. Your long white stilettos knocking against the tile. There was less light in the room, only the dim halo from your bedside lamp.

Taehyung sat on the bed, thighs spread, leaning back against his wrists—waiting for you, patiently. He suggested a nice dinner. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little better. From what you could gather he was very observant. A great listener, and an amazing person to get comfort from.

“You look…amazing” Of course—that had been your intention. Taehyung wanted to talk—but you were tired of talking. He made you feel good. He made you feel seen.

Taehyung himself looked delectable—white shirt tucked into tight black jeans. Approaching him you ran your fingers through his hair.

“You clean up real nice yourself”

He traced the strap on your shoulder. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Your hands glazed over his thighs before you slid to your knees.

“Wait what are you—”

You flattened your palms, running them across his legs as you blinked at him innocently. His breath quickened, watching in awe as you stood up again, crawling into his lap.

“Something wrong?” One by one you popped his buttons open, not letting your eyes leave his. Your fingernails scraped against his chest, making him hiss.

“Princess” He warned, still not moving. You unzipped his jeans, hooking a finger into his belt loop before sliding back down to your knees—taking his pants with you. You kissed the tops of his knees, travelling up his thighs as he shuddered.

Your fingers fanned out over his bulge. Taehyung cursed inwardly. You wanted to put on a show for him. Wanted him to need you so bad he couldn’t take it. Because you wanted him. Wanted to feel him everywhere. Taehyung leaned forward suddenly, tilting your face up. Thumb tracing your lip. You stuck your tongue out, wrapping his thumb in between your glossy lips.

He watched you suck on his thumb obscenely.

“Stop” His voice was stern. He was not fucking around. He looked serious in a way that gave you chills. “We shouldn’t”

You released him. You were tired of being told no. What was the point of all the wealth—all the luxury—if you couldn’t have what you wanted? Was it so wrong—was it so fucking wrong for you to want to sleep with your fiancée? The man that your lover was forcing you to marry—the man who you barely knew?

“Please” You pressed your chest against his, pulling his face into your neck. His nose traced your jaw as he inhaled sharply. Hands finding your lower back.

“Please fuck me” Your lips dragged against his ear, making him shudder. Voice barely above a whisper. Seductive—as you rolled your hips teasingly.

You asked so nicely, there was no way he would say no.

A low growl left Taehyung’s lips. He immediately stood up, lifting you by your thighs. He tossed you down onto the bed, quickly climbing over your frame. Vicious—desperate—his lips found yours, tugging at them. Tongue piercing through, swallowing you in. His fingers gripping your legs, pulling them apart, nails digging into your flesh as he slotted himself where he wanted.

“You bitch” He breathed out, rolling his hard cock against you. “Such a fucking tease”

You mewled, wrapping your legs around him. The friction sending shocks through you. His touch was electric, grabbing handfuls of your ass as his lips slanted across your jaw. He scented all over your neck, nipping your skin.

“Here I am trying to be so good to you, but you’re such a little slut” You cradled his head against you, moaning out as he nibbled your ear. Heat pulsed through your chest, down between your legs.

“Yeah I am. And what are you gonna do about it?” You smiled against him, knowing he could feel it. You arced your back, allowing him to unzip your little dress. He slid it off you in a swift motion, tossing it aside.

Hovering over you, his eyes scanned over your body—licking his lips. His fingers traced your panties, slipping inside briefly. He grinned watching you blush—your wetness leaking against the flick of his finger.

“So wet for me. So needy—fuck” Immediately he climbed back over you, latching his lips to your chest. He kissed you all over—mouth open wide, sucking and tugging at your flesh. You gasped—legs failing in the air as he continued to trail his kisses down your stomach. Dragging your panties to your knees, he pressed his nose between your legs. Heat burned through your face.

You reached for him, grabbing a handful of his hair. He carefully licked your throbbing folds. Twitches overtook your body as he drank you up. Tongue slipping deep inside you. His fingers tracing your stockings, holding your thighs up over his shoulders.

“T-taehyung” You screamed, gasping loudly as pleasure seized every fiber of you. Abruptly he pulled away, causing you to whimper.

“Don’t” He gritted his teeth, “Don’t call me that”

You gulped, “What do you want me to call you?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder it for a while. “Anything just—not my name”

You would have questioned it more, except he shed his boxers. His cock eager for you. He towered over you, aggressively jerking along his length. You propped yourself up, licking the tip cautiously.

Your panties painfully jut into your thighs, but Taehyung lined his cock up with your folds. He let a glob of spit fall onto your clit before rubbing it all over. You panted heavily, sweat collecting on your forehead. Eyes clenching shut as you felt his tip burn into you.

“Look at me” Taehyung growled, reaching for your neck. He gripped it tightly, forcing you to watch as he pushed his length in.

“F-fuck” Your eyes rolled back. Pain shot through you, your legs trapped. Taehyung didn’t care. He groaned loudly, hissing curses as he bottomed out. Without another thought, he began to pummel into you. The slippery noises making you dizzy with need. His fingers wrapping fully around your neck, nose brushing against yours. The bed creaked under you. His cock twitching as he fucked. In and out. Hitting you deep in your core.

“Princess” He sighed loudly, lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, squeezing him for all he was worth “You don’t know h-how much I wanted this—how bad I prayed for this, Y/n—I always wanted you so bad. So bad”

His words sputtering as he began to pump you even faster. “Wanna fuck you all the time. Want you so bad princess—this is all I want. Wanna cum inside you, make you all mine—fuck—you’re all mine princess, you always were”

Wet skin echoed through the room. The feeling of his cock filling you up just right. Sutffing you deep before he’d slam his hips, fucking into you again.

“You wanted me to take you like this, just always looking so pretty to fuck—that pretty little dress you had on—your little games—just wanted my fat cock in this little cunt didn’t you? Didn’t you princess?”

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your neck. “Dressing up pretty for me. Begging for my cum. Go on, beg for it princess. Tell me what you want” Releasing his grip you gasped for air.

“Please cum inside me baby” You traced his face fondly, “You feel so good”

Taehyung smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Huh? You like this?”

You nodded, kissing him deep. “I love it baby” Taehyung’s hips jerked.

“Yeah you do. Fuck.” He sped up, eyes rolling back in pleasure “Take it. Take my cum—fuck—gonna fuck you so deep”

You moaned against his lips. He shuddered, grabbing your hips as he spilled inside you. Panting heavily, he buried his face in your chest. You too were out of breath, twitching with pleasure.

Taehyung kissed your shoulders, staying nestled inside your warm folds. He rolled over, holding you close. “You’re amazing” He sighed before kissing your lips again—this time soft, sweet. “You’re everything I dreamed of”

You smiled weakly. “That was really good Taehyung” You noticed him flinch at his name. “Thank you”

Taehyung kissed your cheek. “I can’t say no to you” His breath steadied, Pausing for a moment, he continued. “But we should have waited. You’re going through a lot. Now, I’ve loved you for a long time, I thought about you every day I was gone. But for you, this is sudden. This is fast. I understand that” He gazed at you as though you were so incredible, so precious, it made your heart melt.

“You were being forced to marry me” He cleared his throat, tracing your lips, “But I want you to want me. Want you to love me like I’ve spent the last ten years loving you”

What you had felt for Jin—it was strong. Overwhelming. Made you want to fall to your knees in defeat.

But Taehyung was here. He was the calm in the storm. The two of you were connected. And at the end of the day,

Jin was dead.

And you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Yoongi couldn’t even believe his eyes. He sat at the foot of Taehyung’s bed after explaining who he was, watching as the heir flipped to the back of his book. There was a section carved out—filled to the brim with small white pills.

“They were drugging me. To keep me here”

“Oh my god” What the hell did he just get himself into? Yoongi thought about the test he could be studying for instead of acting like a maniac. It was your fault. You made him like this. He would only do these things for you.

Taehyung shrugged “Figured it out, eventually...so I stopped taking the pills”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Ten years. The thought alone creeped him out. Being trapped in a place like this. The kind of trauma this would cause a person—it was beyond cruel. They might as well have killed him off.

“Why?”

Taehyung blinked blandly. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. So they sent me away. Convinced me it wasn’t real”

Yoongi felt queasy. He knew the Kim family was fucked up—but this was bizarre, even for him. “I’m so sorry” Truly, he didn’t know what else to say.

Taehyung scoffed, “Few years ago, Dr. Park got assigned to me per my guardian’s request. Put me on new meds—the wrong meds”

A few years ago—Yoongi pondered, maybe around when Chairwoman Kim died? Could Jin have orchestrated all of this? Yoongi wouldn’t put it past the lying bastard.

“I guess using whatever you’ve told him, Dr. Park convinced everyone that he’s you” Yoongi confessed. Taehyung didn’t react. “He stood in for you at your engagement”

“Engagement?” Taehyung tilted his head. Did he not even know?

“To Y/n”

The name made his eyes widen. The book fell from his hands. Pills scattered everywhere. Still. Motionless, he stared at nothing.

“Sir” Jungkook groaned as an officer approached him. He hated being interrupted when he was focusing. He hadn’t heard from you—he wondered if you had considered his offer. Together he was certain he could tear the Kim family to pieces. They deserved nothing less, not after what they did to him, you, and who knows how many others. In his pocket was your diamond choker. His fingers traced the rough edges of the jewels.

“What?”

“Min Yoongi is here again to see you” Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes. The last thing he needed was to waste time on a jealous ex-boyfriend of yours and his conspiracy theories.

Jungkook walked out towards the interrogation room. Stepping inside, he immediately noticed the another man. Tall, extremely handsome, messy black hair and sickly pale skin. Eyes thin, sinister. A face somewhere between bored and amused, Jungkook couldn’t quite tell.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to Yoongi, unphased. “What now Mr. Min?”

“Detective Jeon. Meet Kim Taehyung”

Jungkook inhaled as Yoongi went on to explain how he tracked the young heir down. He watched the man carefully. The man stared at him right back. He felt something tight in his throat.

It was a power play. The man was unwavering, but Jungkook wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. So we meet again Kim Taehyung. It’s been a while.

When Yoongi finished his story, Jungkook simply shrugged “Prove it”

The man smirked, eyes dropping, scanning Jungkook’s figure up and down with intrigue.

“I know who killed your daddy”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jungkook continued to glare at him, fists clenching. He did bear the resemblance. The twisted look in his eyes was a classic Kim trait after all.

Jungkook rolled his tongue in his cheek. This isn’t good.

“Yoongi, you and Taehyung stay here. I want you both under police protection. I will go get Y/n and make sure she is safe. Then we will figure out how to prove all this and arrest Park Jimin. Maybe he’s connected to the murder, maybe he isn’t”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a look. Taehyung tilted his head. “What murder?”

Oh. Jungkook tapped his finger against the table lightly. “Your brother—Kim Seokjin, was murdered”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Hyung? He’s dead?”

Both Yoongi and Jungkook stared at him, unsure how to proceed. “Yeah, and right now the evidence points at Y/n—but I don’t really believe she is responsible”

Taehyung cleared his throat, “What about Namjoon? He’s alive isn’t he?”

Jungkook nodded and Taehyung let out a sigh of relief.

“You do know” Yoongi started, “That your mother is dead—right?”

Taehyung’s face fell. Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who bit his tongue. Idiot.

“I didn’t know that” Taehyung exhaled slowly. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Jungkook. “Take us with you. She won’t believe you otherwise”

Jungkook frowned slightly. He pondered a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another second in proximity with a man that witnessed his father’s murder. The man who pointed his finger and caused it. But he had to be careful. He had to think smart.

“Fine”

Waking up in Taehyung’s arms was a dream. You felt light—weightless and free. He smelled like heaven, his warm body radiating onto you. Staring at his face, you observed his features closely. His eyelashes, his adorable nose, pouty lips. You remembered how he had a little spot on his face. Tilting his head to the side you searched for it.

Hm. You pursed your lips when you didn’t see it. Maybe he was still wearing some makeup. Taking his hand in yours, you began to kiss the pads of his fingers.

You saw his tattoo. Weird. You remembered Namjoon and Jin going together to get their family crest ingrained on their bodies. It had been a melancholy moment. A healing moment where you began to wonder if those two brothers could find love in each other ever again.

Maybe Taehyung got it when he was gone. He never did tell you why he never came back when his mom died.

You wondered if Jin would go visit him.

Jin.

Your heart began to sink into a deep pit. The screams came back to your ears.

“Fuck you—you liar” You screamed, hands trembling around the gun.

“Stop acting so innocent Y/n” Jin snapped, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?”

You froze.

Jin let out a shaky breath, face red with anger “I was trying to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do” He stepped closer. Closer. And closer. Until you could feel him. Feel the betrayal in his eyes. The gun slipped from your hands.

“You would have taken everything I had” You growled. “You lying piece of shit”

“You don’t understand—Nexus is dangerous. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

Jin slapped you clean across the face. Your jaw dropped, the pain stinging from impact—deeper in your chest when you processed what he had done.

“That’s enough” A deep voice cut through. A wave of relief crashing over you. Footsteps neared—they were hurried, angry. You shut your eyes.

Something shattered. Your eyes opened. In front of you a man stood, raging. Jin was on the floor, blood on his eye. Jin laughed.

“Nice of you to join us, Hoseok”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: get ready bc the next part is jimin's pov baby ;) send your theories! would love to know what yall think <3 (begs for feedback)

also you're hot and dont you forget it! thanks for reading :) <3

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part six - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Warnings - 3.6k words of : Toxic yandere men, sub drop, crime, violence, injury, emotionally abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, lying and manipulation, monopolising, unhealthy relationships, aftercare ish, love bombing?, Namjoon's dark side is coming out but internally (because we can read his mind but MC can't)

It’s a sting or an ache that rouses you awake, coming from your bruised wrist. You let out a soft gasp of pain, lifting your head to see Yoongi carefully applying cream to the dents the ropes had burned into your perfect skin. 

“Hoseok and his stupid games,” he mutters, full focus on making sure he’s soothing the marks of their punishment, like if the evidence of them went away so would the sadness they inflicted on you as well. It was a stupid naive thought, Yoongi knew it, but your presence in his life filled him with that silly feeling of hope. 

He gently rests your wrist on the bed, searching for the next limb before he notices your eyes on him. They’re blank he notices, void of anything, fuck, they really did a number on you. He couldn’t swallow down the lump of regret lodged in his throat, no he would suffocate on it until you recovered. 

You feel the bed dip beside your head, but it doesn’t pull your gaze away from Yoongi as he pulls your other wrist cautiously away from where you held it against your chest. You feel fingers in your hair, the urge to nuzzle against them almost overwhelming but the memories of their harsh words keeps you still.

“Heaven,” Taehyung's deep voice murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he plays with the strands. “Does it hurt?”

At his words you feel something pierce your middle, a pain that lay dormant until it was called out. A part of him means the sting of Yoongi’s ministriations, another part of him means the hole they carved out of your chest. At first it might seem sadistic, but he needed you to feel it, if you felt empty it would be harder to coax you back, the hurt meant you were still alive, still with them, and not an empty shell they were terrified they pushed you to be. 

He would take your anger, your betrayal, your sadness over the void you presented to them now. Yoongi moves you carefully from your fetal position on the bed, so you’re lying on your back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s as he peers down at you. The position has an itch of anxiety building under your skin, it's too familiar to your punishment even if you aren’t as physically as exposed, but the burn in your extremities from those ropes lulled your brain into believing it was about to happen again. 

You see the frown in his brows as he watches your chest lift and fall too deeply, the look in your eyes like a caged animal looking for a chance to run. It’s when Yoongi takes hold of your ankle you pull away with a small whimper. Both men look at each other for a moment as you swallow down the rising panic. 

“Little love,” Yoongi says, being as reassuring as he can, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

You inhale like your soul slammed its way back to your body, the corners of your eyes watering. 

“Liar,” you barely manage to whisper, but it's loud enough that it cuts him. He deserved that. The anxiety in your limbs creeps into your chest, seizing your lungs until you’re unable to take a breath. 

The hand in your hair moves to cup your face, his body lying beside you, your hand is on his chest, your insides fighting with the urge to push him away or clutch his shirt and pull him closer.

“Y/n you need to breathe,” Tae instructs against your hair soothingly, taking your hand on his chest in his. The other palm turns your head so you face him, his thumb stroking circles on your cheek. “Breathe with me.”

You want to tell him you can’t, but you try to follow his example, earning yourself a small smile on his face, the hum of danger dampening. You lose yourself to Tae as you both lie together, feeling yourself calm before sleep takes you again. The last thing you feel is soft lips on your temple, but you’re too exhausted to register it.

—

“How is she doing?” Jin asks Yoongi as he washes his hands, breaking his despondent stare at nothing. 

He just nods in reply, avoiding eye contact. There were only a few times that Yoongi ever felt himself be moved to tears, but the state you were in now shoved him on the brink of a breakdown. And the worst part of it all was that they were responsible. Aftercare, especially after one of Hoseok’s sessions, was vital and they all knew it and yet because they were caught up in their own emotions they let you drop. 

“That bad huh,” Jin laughs humorlessly under his breath, leaning against the door frame as he contemplates his own shortcomings. “Namjoon wasn’t lying when he told her we were the scum of the earth.”

He hangs his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers or at least grant him the ability to rewind time back to when you first woke up.

“We weren’t supposed to be scum to her,” Yoongi muttered, turning off the water that scalded his hands red, the pain was good, it felt like he was paying for his mistakes, although it was a small compensation to what he would have to pay. “The rest of the world doesn’t matter, to Y/n we were supposed to be worthy of her.”

“But we’re not,” Jin replies quietly. 

“We didn’t have to prove it,” he bites back, feeling resentment towards Namjoon for bringing it up at all. He understood the need to be accepted, raging red flags and all, but to you they were supposed to be better, you were supposed to be the exception.

“What if she never forgives us,” he whispers his fears to the oldest of them, that tight invisible grip around his throat still present. 

Jin can’t even bring himself to placate him, he can’t, he has the same fears. 

—

Jimin’s tears crumbled their already broken hearts, but when Jungkook joined in it made them feel a despair they hadn’t felt since the day you left them. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince when a small voice in the back of his head was calling him a liar. If he could he would shoot the voice dead. “Our relationship isn’t that weak.”

Hoseok watches their leader massage his eyes as though a headache was starting. 

“You need to go see her,” Yoongi says to Namjoon, arms folded, voice empty of emotion. Their fearless head of the crime syndicate had yet to visit you since the fight in the bathroom, Yoongi knew he would eat his words once he did.

“How are we going to fix this?” Hosek groans, patting Jimin’s head as he cried. The maknae was attached to Jimin’s back, both of them on the floor as they sobbed. 

Taehyung had refused to leave your side, the others went in and out but Tae was afraid if he left you you would find a way to escape again, and he couldn’t live through that a second time.  

“We broke her by exposing her,” Namjoon mumbles mostly to himself, thinking out loud, biting the skin of his thumb uncharacteristically nervous. “Made her feel like it was something bad…” made her pull away from us because we didn’t make her feel safe and let her drop. “Need to rebuild trust in the same way,” need to make her feel loved, “reassure her,” hold her but keep her vulnerable so she doesn’t build back up with walls against us. 

His brain works fast, now that the Suho problem was dealt with, he could focus on you until the repercussions of the Captain came. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there would be some sort of retaliation, the Captain didn’t seem the sort to let things go. 

“No more games,” Yoongi breaks his train of thoughts, eyes boring into him before looking at Hoseok too. “No more punishments, she never deserved any of them we were just sadistic fucks looking for an outlet for our own insecurity.”

Namjoon’s fist clenches, unhappy with the tone his usually stoic friend takes, even if his words held some truth. 

“A whole world at our disposal to kick down and we take it out on our little love,” Yoongi scoffs, chuckling in disgust with himself and the others. “We really are scum of the Earth.”

—

The Captain doesn’t find the ceiling all that interesting, but it’s all he can stare at alone in the hospital wing. He’s not alone in the sense of physically, the hospital staff mill around working on the ward, he’s merely separated by curtains from the other patients, but the noise around him felt like a hum, a buzz in the background. The only visitor he had was the Chief of police telling him to stand down about the syndicate task force and then offering (ordering) him half a years paid leave. 

“Take the time off,” he had said. “Recover,” he patted Suho’s shoulder before muttering, “it’ll do you some good.”

But the captain could see the truth in the Chief’s eyes, a hidden variable that was making him speak through the shadows. Kim Namjoon got to the police, he had his strings attached to every officer like they were his puppets. He only needed the top brass, they would create order and command for him. He wondered what he had on them all, how deep the corruption ran.

It seemed he was cut at the knees in more ways than one, the leader of the crime syndicate really drove that message home. He laughs at himself humourlessly despite the lack of anything funny in sight. One of the nurses giving him a judgmental side eye, wondering to herself whether they gave him too much morphine. 

Suho could still feel the pain tearing through his knee and his hand, albeit dulled by the drugs in his system. The bullet had been lodged into his bone, it required surgery to be pulled out, surgery that was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. The thought of who he suspected as that person made him want to beg to put the bullet back. 

Powerless wasn’t a feeling he was all that common with, even in his darkest days on the force he always felt hope, knew he would see the Sun rise another day. But Kim Namjoon had a way of drowning the Sun, and all her rays of hope. He could only pray that by some miracle, he could pull you out of the waters before your light washed out. 

—

The scene when you open your eyes is eerily similar to the one before your world flipped upside down, a part of you wanted to believe the hands of time had turned back or at least you woke up in an alternative universe where the fight never happened, but the memories burned through your mind too clearly for anything else to be true. All seven of your walking talking red flags were posted around you in the room, eyes on you albeit much softer than that day, yet for some reason it puts you on edge. 

“Heaven,” Jimin sits on his knees on the bed peering down at you, you notice the telling red rims around his eyes and his nose, was he crying? Why? He tries to cover it with a smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons but he couldn’t hide the evidence from you, you knew him too well.

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips before he mumbles desperately against your skin, his voice breaking, “forgive us.”

Tentatively, as if afraid you were going to break or run away, two arms wrap around your middle, the maknae lying beside you burying his head into you but you can hear the tell tale sniffles. It was rare any of them ever cried, you really must look like a state.

Your head throbs from the continuous cycles of sleep you were putting yourself through, sleep was safe and you were too exhausted to live, let alone deal with the repercussions of your relationship. 

“Jungkook, you’re smothering our dove,” Hoseok sighs, arms folded as he keeps his distance. He wouldn’t say it aloud but since he and Namjoon were the directors of your punishment and subsequently the push into subdrop he was afraid of approaching you.

It wasn’t just your rejection that would break his heart, but if his presence caused a reaction of trauma, more than what you were presenting now, it would crumble him. It took everything in his will power not to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive them, and the man had never begged anyone for anything before. 

Even Namjon kept himself an arm length away, sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed, watching you as the others interacted. Soekjin had stood beside you, his fingers massaging your forehead as if he could sense the pain, but your eyes find Namjoon. 

“Did you hurt him?” It was the first time you had seen him and the first words out of your mouth were about that cockroach. He can feel his anger begin to simmer dangerously, his jaw clenches before he releases a self deprecating laugh under his breath. This was cruel even for you, was it a test? Why didn’t you ask him whether he killed him, that he could answer truthfully, the details were a little more complicated. 

“We didn’t kill him,” Hoseok says, his mind flashing back to standing on the roof of the opposite building holding the sniper as it took out the Captain’s leg.

“That’s not what I asked,” you whisper, eyes starting to water again. 

Namjoon glances at Yoongi’s warning stare, the thoughts written clearly on his stone face, enough of proving to you how evil they truly were, the truth didn’t matter, only you did. But yet there was something inside of him urging him to tell you, a sadistic part of him that wanted to break the already cracked dusty rose tinted glasses. Was it so bad of him to want you to love the darkest parts of him? Couldn’t you hear his soul cry out for you to love him despite how bloodstained it was?

“No we didn’t hurt him Love,” he sighs, hanging his head so he wouldn’t have to meet your gaze, his fist clenching the material of his trousers. The lie tasted like coal in his mouth, but he would swallow it down even if it upset his stomach. 

You let out a sound of relief, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappeared and you could breathe freely again. They actually saw you smile, and the guilt only cemented. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, the feeling of love you were holding back against them now allowed to roam back into your body. There was hope, there was a chance to heal your relationship; they listened to you despite their murderous intent, you were relieved. You were so worried they would kill him anyway despite your plea not to, but this was proof they were willing to work on themselves with you, that you meant something to them more than being their toy.

You close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. Jimin wipes away your tears, you hadn’t even realised had slipped from the corner of your eyes. 

“Our baby’s so caring,” Jin comments, trying to keep the bite out of his voice and eyes. Your gaze falls on him and he smiles, it’s the most fake thing he’s ever done in front of you but you’d believe it. Seokjin was a mastermind at manipulation, to the point he could paint whatever he wanted on his face regardless of his emotions. Namjoon had debriefed them before you woke up, the objective was to do what they did best, monopolise you back under their spell.

It throws you, the gentle expression on his face, maybe you did wake up in an alternate reality. Jungkook distracts you, pulling you closer against him, his lips on your shoulder, making his way up your neck and cheek slowly. You turn to face him, eyes in a daze, that sweet bunny smile greeting you shyly but your attention is pulled away by another. 

The back of Taehyung’s fingers trace your cheek gently, another smile greeting you when you turn to him on the other side of you, finding him kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He takes notice of your glazed stare, the slow confusion on your face.

“Aren’t you the cutest little love to ever exist,” he coos quietly.

“Our only little love,” Yoongi corrects him.

“Our slice of heaven,” Jimin pipes in.

“The only heaven we’ll ever see,” Namjoon’s deep voice gruffs.

That overwhelming feeling only grew, but it didn’t feel unwanted, you felt cushioned, like you were being lifted or floating on a cloud. Gentle touches, soft words, soothing your soul quiet, letting it rest. But you were unaware a part of you was being buried.

“Our perfect Angel,” Namjoon whispered and for some reason it felt like the final nail in the coffin making you snap back to your senses.

“No,” you sit up to face him, breaking away all the physical touch they had on you. The safe space they had lulled you into with all your defences bare had shattered. “You can’t expect me to accept you for all your flaws if you won’t do the same for me.”

There’s a fight in your eyes that comes alive as you stare him down, but he keeps quiet letting you fill the silence.

“I am not perfect, YOU need to stop pretending I am,” you throw his words back at him, he fucked you with those words and made you accept their cruelty, he would have to offer you the same respite. “I am done with trying to live up to this impossible image you have of me, because every time I break the illusion I can see the disappointment in your faces and it kills me every time.”

“Little love, you are perfect,” Jin sighs, moving to sit in front of you to break the staring match between you and Joon. “All those things you think are flaws are perfect Love, they’re a part of you, of course they’re perfect.”

His thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, trying to will away the fire when it threatened to burn everything they had spent rebuilding in this room with your recovery.

“If we made you feel anything other than perfect dove that’s our fault,” Hoseok admits, “but you already know how bad we are, it’s always our fault, don’t let us fool you otherwise.”

“You don’t get it,” you frown, looking down at your lap. “When you love me like that, it's a burden.”

“Love,” Yoongi calls for you, desperation in his voice, hating that you felt that way at all. “That’s not our intention.”

“Baby,” Jungkook sits up beside you, and you start to feel confined, their bodies like iron bars of a jail, keeping you with them for a life sentence you were beginning to think you deserved. “We love you, we made a mistake, we know that, but our love for you isn’t bad.”

“It’s the one redeemable thing about us Heaven,” Taehyung adds, looking up at you even with your head hanging low, trying to meet your eyes. 

You feel your eyes water, you just ached, wanting to be drowned in their love but protected from their consequences. Last time you took the coward's way out, you ran away, this time you needed to create distance, but still work on the problem without bias, without their love infecting you until you could heal them and yourself.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” you confess, holding back a sob. Your mind starting to win the war it raged against your heart and all it wanted.

Their solemn expressions snap to you, the panic in their eyes piercing you.

“What do you mean, little love?” Jimin says warningly, you sounded like you were wanting to end your relationship but you surely knew better than anyone that it was impossible. They wouldn’t let you go if you tried.

“I think we need to go on a break,” you state, your voice strained from the heavy feeling of wanting to cry in your throat. 

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok shakes his head, nostrils flaring at the suggestion.

“I’m not asking,” you say firmly.

“You don’t get to make that decision little love,” Namjoon’s lips twitch as he stops himself from growling, how dare you even think it. “You’re ours.”

You both stare each other down, neither willing to compromise. 

“I’m mine,” you felt in control again, you hadn’t felt this way for so long, like your soul belonged to you, you weren’t just floating in their desires, you were your own person. 

“We won’t let you leave,” Namjoon retorted, not denying your statement.

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” you shake your head, looking at each of them before your gaze returns to the leader of the syndicate, a challenge present in both your stares. “But you don’t get to touch me, or fuck me, or play your games.”

Every one of your new rules hit them like a punch to the gut, a cruel mocking thought passing through the air between them, this was the consequences of their fuck up, and they knew if they wanted to keep you, they would have to listen. 

“One last thing,” you say after a lot of deliberating, a squeeze in your throat trying to stop you getting the words out, a deep frown set between your eyes. “I don’t want you to call me little love anymore.”

[forthechubbies]

Our Little Wife

~Princess Under House arrest~ Vol. 8

Mafia BTS x Chubby Wife Reader

Being Korea's deadliest kingpins made seven men into untouchable demons, yet their little wife is made out of sugar and spice?

⚠️Um? Yoongi is a warning on his own as well as (bad boy gone wrong) Jungkook. Hot makeout scene w/ long haired drunken yoongi🥵, Jin's a sweetheart beyond sweethearts, Vulgar Language, Manhandling, and Jungkook is a sexy hot head so watch out!☺

<- Shadows Vol. 7

Your nightgown caught your foot as you rushed to your vanity. You've been cleaned, patched, polish and pampered.

You looked beautiful, a barefaced beauty. A healthy glow to your skin, volume and fullness in your hair-gently brushing your fingers over your face you discovered your nails were fully manicured.

"What's going on?" You lifted your nightgown to find the same result, your toes matched your nails.

All was flawless beside the ache in your wrist, the only thing not tended too, grazing your fingers ghosted over the sore skin-

You hissed with an "Ouch." squeaking out of you.

The sight of Jimin, the very last person you laid eyes on, sent shivers down your spine. Memories came rushing back, overwhelming you with a flood of emotions. The cruel and heartless actions of your once beloved husband twisted your stomach into knots, leaving you feeling utterly disgusted.

Even more so, you shared concern for him, However you do believe that He got what he deserved before you passed out.

But the memories only caused more confusion. Why are you back home? the men knew Jimin? and that man who grabbed you. His eyes...they looked like Kookie's.

To yours and my surprise, One of your French doors was unlocked, You shivered at the numbing temperature and aura of the house, scrolling down the corridor, The wholesome family pictures successfully made you feel like a bit better.

"Kitten?" The echo of a deep male purr startled, Yoongi stood at arm's length he looked sloppy..his clothes were hanging of his figure, hair overgrown into a tousled bun dangling off his broad shoulders.

"Is this finally you? My kitten." He reeks of whiskey. Yoongi calluses grip your jaw bringing your face to his, You grip his button up to keep balance on your tippy toes. "Or I'm finally dying for alcohol poisoning and you're an angel sent to ease my pain as I pass on."

Speechless you stared into Yoongi's heated face to see a long open wound slashed down his right eye, the dried blood still staining his crimison cheek. "If so, Could you pity me a kiss for a heartbroken man." His voice deeply rumbled as he whispered to you before planting his lips on yours.

You gasped. "Yoongi-" ghosting your fingers around his eyes. "You're eye."

Yoongi's large hands ♡ swallowed your chubby waist tugging all of your weight on him. The Innocent kiss turned course following Yoongi's lead as he worked his tongue.

"Mm!" You squeaked against his lips.

His tongue tricks distracted you from those busy hands of his stroking up the curves of your nightgown. You found yourself sandwich between the wall and Yoongi not that you mind-

"Ya! You better not puke on my carpet again, Min Yoongi! Or I'm settling for a divorce." Jin cried, you can't see him but you could imagine the blood rushing to his ears. "Yoongi, if you feeling sick dead outside-" Jin's eyes meeting yours.

Jin's eyes grew three sizes. "Yoongi! You're being too rough-" A harsh shove knocked the wobbly drunken man to the wooden floor where he happily retired. "My princess, Are you hurt? Any of those scratches stinging." He checked you frequently.

Jin quickly settled down placing his large hands on your shoulders, his sorrowful eyes roamed down your nightgown. "Namjoon was right...I should have kept the door locked." He mumbled, the last part before freezing at the loud sound of his husbands coming home so soon..too soon.

In the panic of heavy boots headed up the main staircase, Jin shoved you through your door frame, repeatedly cooing apologies at you as you fell flat on your bum. " I'm so sorry, Daddy loves his princess." You hardly heard him over the door closing with a click. He locked it.

"Is she up yet?" Kookie...

You kept your ear to door.

"No,-" Jin lied. " She's still asleep." You could hear his knuckles whiting from his intense grip on the french door's golden handles.

"What?! It's been three days?! Aren't you fucking concerned-at all!?" Jungkook's satori boomed, startling you on the other side.

You never heard kookie raise his voice maliciously to anyone especially his older spouses.

Jin's temper boiled over much like your bunny's. A loud thump was heard through the wood then a pregnant silence. Jin disciplined Jungkook upside his head.

"How dare you speak to you like I'm one of those punks you beat up, You feral mutt-!"

In seconds, The tip of Jungkook's nose tap Jin's as a horrifying fire burned Kookie's eyes. "What the actual fuck did you just call me?!"

A sudden adrupt shove against the doors sent you hurling into your fluffy carpet once more as fatal squeak falls from your lips. As soon as the cute sound left your mouth, Jungkook released his assault on Jin's collar.

The silence between the two men was deafening til Jungkook broke it with a small whimper. "Creampuff?! Are you alright?!" Jungkook ripped Jin away from your door, swinging opening them open to find you, his startled Creampuff grasping on your nightgown for dear life.

My goodness. You gasped. Nevermind the fact, He completely broken the lock on the doors effortlessly. I don't even think it he realized yet.

Jungkook stood tall before your dumbfounded face, You can admit it's been sometime since you seen your husbands but these dramatic difference in appearance are not for the faint hearted, to yoongi new scar and long hair to Jungkook's entire existence at this point.

He too has quit cutting his hair leaving his to fall to his shoulders , mainly hiding a good some of his face and yet the little droplets shimmering off his tips enchanted you.

It must be raining horribly upon how drained he is.

Jungkook's heavy muggy boots destroyed your ivory carpet as he slowly walked towards your shaken figure in awe. "It's really you?" He breathed, dropping his knees on either sides of your thighs, leaning closer in your face. "It is you."

Your eyes can't stand to look away from the new tattoos decorating the left side of his neck, beautifully paired with the two addictions piercing his lip and eyebrow.

Is this your kookie?

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 1

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

“My condolences.” Someone wished you solemnly as they stepped up to pay respect. From your position on the straw mat at the side, you only maintained a straight face and bowed to show your gratefulness.

“Your father was a great man.” A lady smiled softly.

“I’m sure he was.” You replied. But her reaction to your statement made you purse your lips. You hadn’t intended to let that comment slip out. You recovered by straightening up and shaking her hand, gesturing to her to the food and beverage table.

Some people excused your attitude as your way of coping and mourning. But those people that knew the truth knew your indifference and emotionlessness was because you didn’t know the man in the coffin.

He was supposed to be your father, it says so on your birth certificate. But it also said so on the divorce papers your late mother had.

To you, he was a stranger.

You had just finished a long call with your classmates to discuss a group project that was coming up. You stretched your stiff arms over your head as you went downstairs to get a drink.

DING DONG

You placed down your mug and went to the front door. There was no reason for anyone to be here. You didn’t order anything recently.

“Yes?” You opened the door to come face to face with a suited male. He was good looking and you could tell how built he was despite his suit and coat covering his body. But you had never seen his face before.

“Nice to meet you, Miss. My name is Kim Namjoon-”

“I’m not really interested in what you’re selling, thank you.” You cut him off, ready to close the door. He held a hand out.

“Apologies, (y/n) sshi. I’m not here to sell you anything.”

“Wait, how do you know my name? I have never met you before.” You frowned, starting to get a little worried and cautious. This man looked like trouble but at the same time, you knew you couldn’t run from him. Where could you run to in your small house? Plus, he looked like he could catch you easily. You just took a step back, shielding more of your body behind your door.

“My name is Kim Namjoon. Unfortunately, I am here to inform you that your father, (y/l/n) (y/f/n), passed away early this morning.” He informed. Your eyes widened as your brain worked to process what he said.

“As his only child, it is only right for you to represent him during the funeral procession.” Namjoon said.

“I-I don’t have a father.”

“I was told that you may react that way. Here, this is for you. I know you never had a relationship with your father but he did think of you often and I know he would want you to be there for his final send off.” He handed you a folder.

“He’s a stranger. I know nothing about him except his name.” You tucked the folder under your arm.

“I understand. Your father did love you and miss you but there were circumstances that prevented him from contacting you all these years.” He gestured to the folder.

“Look, Namjoon sshi, I don’t have the money for a coffin, much less to book a funeral hall. I’m on my own, living off the savings my mother and I earned on our own.” You sighed in defeat.

“Don’t worry about that. My brothers and I have everything handled, as instructed by your father before his passing. All you have to do is be there. We were close but at the end of the day, you’re his only blood born child.” Namjoon said with a small smile.

“You work for him?”

“In a way. I trained and work directly under him.” Namjoon was brief in his explanation. You just stared at him, knowing that he was more than just an employee to your father.

“Have a nice day. I look forward to hearing from you, hopefully.” Namjoon offered you another respectful bow before turning to walk back to his car. You closed the door, leaning against it and heaving a long sigh.

So here you were, greeting people and thanking them for coming to a funeral of a man you didn’t even know. They probably knew him better than you did.

“Namjoon sshi. I’m going for a breather.” You went to the male, who was sitting with 6 other males.

“Sure. Make sure to get some food and drinks too.” Namjoon smiled and patted you on the shoulder. You stiffly nodded and walked out of the funeral hall. You entered the toilet to splash your face with water.

“What am I doing here?” You looked at your reflection.

“Just get this over with and go back to your normal routine.” You told yourself as you left the bathroom. Maybe you didn’t really know how to feel about your father since your mother never talked about him much. All you knew was that they got divorced when you were 2 years old. Were you supposed to resent and hate him? Or be sad that you never got to know him?

“Want one? You look like you need it.” A pale guy offered you a cigarette when you stepped onto the balcony for some fresh air. You recognised him as the stoic looking one in Namjoon’s friend group.

“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.” You shook your head.

“Suit yourself.” He rested his forearms on the banister, lighting his cigarette to take a smoke.

Guess you won’t have much fresh air. You turned around and headed back in. You didn’t have much appetite to eat but you did grab a drink, throat feeling hoarse from greeting people.

“My condolences. It must be hard losing your father. He was a great businessman.” An older man came to shake your hand.

“You worked with my father?” You asked politely.

“Yes, he worked hard to build his company and this legacy. He was hoping that one day, you would take over-”

“Mr Park! Come, help yourself to the food and drinks.” One of Namjoon’s friends whisked the male away before he could finish his sentence. You blinked in confusion, unsure of what was going on. Namjoon led you back to where your post was.

“If you need anything or need someone to take over while you take a break, let me know. My brothers and I can take over temporarily.” Namjoon said.

“Thanks.” You sat back down on the straw mat, making sure that the ends of your hanbok were straight.

“Thank you for coming.” You bowed to those who came to pay respects.

You looked over at Namjoon and his 6 friends who were also tending to guests and speaking to them. They were obviously not real brothers but you could tell how close they were. The guests seemed to know them fairly well.

They were your father’s children more than you were.

“That girl is really his child?”

“He has never mentioned having a child before. Is she just after the inheritance?”

“Look at her. She doesn’t even care or have an ounce of grief knowing her own father has just died. That’s cold hearted.”

Of course, you were a new, unfamiliar face. You heard all the whispered comments that were being made about you. It didn’t help that Namjoon insisted you wear the band of the chief mourner, that itself signified your highest rank in your father’s life. You didn’t blame the gossip, you would find it suspicious too if a child of a deceased only appeared at their funeral.

“The girl can’t possibly be taking over his company, right? I think he would have willed it to Namjoon. He is capable of taking care of the company in his stead.” An older lady said.

“All the boys are capable of taking over the company. They have been trained by him and cared for by him.” The man she was with replied.

“Yes, they can definitely help it to grow to be even more successful.” She giggled lightly.

"We will be having the final rites before moving to the burial site.” The funeral director came. There was a moment of silence as the final rites were performed. The director held out your father’s photo to you.

“I shouldn’t...” You hesitated.

“Please, (y/n) sshi.” The director looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was scared of anyone else holding the photo. You chewed on your bottom lip, reaching out with shaky hands.

“Thanks.” You whispered, holding the photo in front of you. Namjoon and his 6 brothers stood on either side of the coffin, lifting it up.

“Right this way.” You walked in front, nestling your father’s photo in your hands. As you walked passed, all those in attendance of the funeral bowed their head respectfully. They walked behind the carried coffin. When in front of the hearse, you stepped aside for the boys to load the coffin into the hearse.

“It’s okay, Hobah.” You watched as the smaller, pale man comforted his brother that was crying. Even the tough looking, tattooed one was crying and being comforted by the others. You couldn’t find it in you to shed a tear of feel sad.

The rest was a blur. The ride in the luxury car to the burial site, all the expensive cars riding behind the hearse. You kept to yourself, keeping your head down and not attempting to make any conversation.

“Goodbye.” Was all your uttered as you tossed your flower down onto the descended coffin.

“Thank you for coming.” You stood with the 7 men, bowing as the guests all retreated to their cars to leave the cemetery.

“The company is in your good hands.” The guests all told the 7, mainly ignoring you. You stared at the mound of dirt that would be turned into a nice grave with a headstone soon.

When your mother died, you did everything on your own. There were no visitors, no fancy send off and no one to help you. You had her final rites in the hospital where she passed and paid for her to be buried immediately. Your mother was an amazing woman, she deserved all this as a grand send off, not your father who abandoned you.

“(y/n) sshi.” Someone grasped your arm.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon called out as you yanked your hand away, as if his touch burnt you. The man’s eyes widened at your reaction, he had no ill intentions and even wanted to try to comfort you.

“I’m going home.” You muttered and walked down the path to the road.

“Let us send you home. It would be hard for you to get a bus or cab here.” Namjoon offered. You nodded your head and sat in the car.

“(y/n) sshi, can we pick you up some food before dropping you home? You barely ate at the funeral home.” The one that sat in the passenger seat of the car you were in asked.

“No thanks. I just want to go home.” You requested.

“Of course.”

The car pulled up in front of your small, two storey house. You stepped out and looking up at the house.

“Before you go, (y/n) sshi. This is for you.” You were handed a thick envelope. You didn’t need to open it to know that it was money inside. Probably all the money from the funeral visitors.

“Keep it. It’s not my money. You guys paid for everything so split it amongst you all or whatever.” You held it back out for them to take.

“You’re your father’s child, you should be the one to have it-”

“Look, let’s just stop. The man that was just buried is not my father. The day he left my mother and I, he stopped being my father. To me, he’s just a stranger that I’d rather not know about. I couldn’t cry for him like you could, I feel nothing for him.” You sighed.

“If he wanted me to know him, he had all these years to come back. I wouldn’t have to see my mother shoulder everything on her own because he was prideful or selfish.” Your voice wavered at the memory of your mother.

“He regrets that. He hates that he could only be your parent in his death.” Namjoon said gently.

“No, I only have one parent and I already buried her, two years ago.” There was so much bitterness in your voice. You turned away and entered your house, locking the door shut.

Like the day Namjoon came to deliver the news, you sat with your back to the door. You heard the roar of the luxury cars come to life and fade away as they drove off. Finally, your sobs and tears fell freely.

It wasn’t fair that the man that easily upped and left is celebrated while you and your mother were left to fend for yourselves. The only regret you had was not being able to do better for her when she tried her best for you to live life like any other kid. You worked any job that would take you but you still couldn’t buy her lavish gifts for Mother’s Day and her birthdays.

The day your mother collapsed, you had never been the same. You blamed yourself, she collapsed from the exhaustion. Her body was so weak that death came quickly.

When you buried her, you buried your heart with her.

“Ugh.” You got up, going to shower and change out of the mourning hanbok. You placed everything into a paper bag, throwing it into your closet.

“Hi, can I order two soups, please? Yes, two bowls of rice.” You ordered with the nearby restaurant. If you were not cooking, you usually ordered 2-3 portions of food at once, keeping the extras in the fridge to save on delivery fees.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Delivery!” You went to the door. The man held out the packets of food to you and you handed him the money.

“Have a nice night.” He bowed and went off on his motorcycle. Just as you were going to close the door, you looked at the envelope on your door step. It was the one with the funeral money. But unlike earlier, there was now writing on one side of it.

‘You don’t have to spend it, you can donate it. The money doesn’t belong to us. If you ever need anything, contact us.’

Stapled to the envelope was a business card. It was white, the company name ‘Bangtan Enterprise and Exchange’ printed in gold font. The other side of the card had one number on it. There was nothing else on it.

“Bangtan...” You read out. You placed the food on the table and put the envelope aside, no intention on using the money.

“Thank you for the food.” You began eating. You had placed your laptop in front of you, some mindless show playing to fill the quiet space with some sort of noise.

‘Dear student,

We would like to extended our deepest condolences to you and your family upon hearing your family member’s demise. As per school protocol, you have been granted 3 days of school leave.

- School administration’

You just saw the email sent to you by your school administration. How did they even know if you didn’t tell them? Plus, you never registered a ‘father’ in your school records. Whatever, now you had 1 extra day. Maybe you could spend the whole day sleeping tomorrow since you have been thrown into this emotional rollercoaster and have not slept for 2 days.

“I’m so full.” When you were done eating, you did the dishes, put the extra food into the refridgerator and went to your room to do some studying.

‘(y/l/n) (y/n)’

You remembered the folder Namjoon gave you when he first arrived at your doorstep. Pulling out your chair and sitting at your small desk, you undid the string and poured all the contents out.

“Omma...” You picked up one of the photos. You were a baby in your mother’s arms, the photo caught the both of you mid laugh.

‘My beautiful girls.’

The handwriting was not your mother’s so you guessed it was your father’s. There were pictures of them together, before your mother was pregnant and some while she was pregnant.

The only one that was carefully wrapped in plastic was one of your father carrying you after you were just born. In the plastic, with the photo, there was a folded letter than fell out. Your name was written on it.

‘My dear (y/n),

If you are reading this letter, it probably means that I am gone. Namjoon and the others have been instructed to give this to you only when I pass. Only because I am a coward that cannot face you and your mother after everything I have done.

I know after so many years, no excuse or reason will ever make up for my absence. I deserve to be hated and resented by you.

(y/n), if I could have been there to witness you growing up into such an amazing person, I would have. I would have given up the world to have you and your mother with me.

But I know I cannot be selfish. I cannot jeopardise your safety and risk putting you and your mother in danger. I’d rather live away from you than to know I am the reason you or your mother get hurt.

Every day, I think about you. How I wish I could speak with you and hug you, tell you I am sorry and that I missed you.

It has not been easy hasn’t it? You and your mother having to fend for yourselves. Your mother is just as tough, not wanting to receive any help from me, wanting to singlehandedly raise you, care for you and put you through school. I am confident that she raised you well, to be just as strong and independent as she was.

I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that though, how amazing of a woman your mother is. I will always love her with all my heart, I’m grateful to have her as my partner and soulmate.

While I may not be there to make up for my absence, if you or your mother ever need help with anything, please contact any of the boys.

To ask you to be there at my funeral was unfair of me, I am just a stranger, you probably barely know what I look like. But please just let me be selfish one last time, I just want to see you one last time before I leave.

I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t deserve to call myself a parent, much less your father.

- (y/f/n)’

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

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[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the reckless

— summary: in the face of danger, you run right into it

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 4.7k

— warnings: slight violence

— PART 24 / previous post / masterpost

It’s about one in the morning when you sneak out of the room with gentle steps, making sure to not wake the one who sleeps on the armchair beside the bed, his soft little snores still heard until his presence disappears with the closed door.

The hallways are as silent as it was back in the room, the only thing heard is the sounds of your footsteps echoing through, and as you close your shawl closer to your body, you look around to make your way to the familiar steps that lead outside where the greenhouse stands.

The doors are left unlocked so you let yourself in and step through the glass doors, closing your eyes for a moment to breathe in the scent of the greens all around you.

It’s during lonely moments like this you feel your heart craving for some sort of familiarity. Not just the presence of your Reapers but for the presence of your manor itself.

For years you spent hating that place more than anything because that was where everything happened; where you were born, where you grew up, watching your mother hating you with every fiber left in her, chasing after your father’s attention, shedding tears on top of gentle shoulders, trapped behind the steel door of a white room, training, meeting good people, meeting bad people, everything.

Everything.

You can’t recall when the feeling of dread and disdain turned to eyes seeking for it, feet yearning to step back into it. Maybe it was the moment your father died, when the dynasty he worked so hard to build broke down into pieces like a house of cards, when you took over and made it into the home that it is now starting to feel like.

You returned to it after Leehyun, locking yourself in the comfort of your room, knowing that if you were to step outside, your Reapers would be right there with the smallest calling of their names. It served as your escape when it used to be the very reason you hated your existence.

The manor has become home and perhaps the only reason it’s able to be such a thing is because of what you’ve built it to be.

You want to escape, to return to it and simply hide in it and have no one bother you until you’re ready to step out yourself.

On the bench where Alexander sat this morning, you take your seat and close your eyes, trying to manipulate your mind into thinking you aren’t in Norway, that you’re back in Seoul, back at the manor, and not somewhere far, far away.

It’s exhausting doing this, your revenge plan. It’s exhausting having to put up a front, exhausting having to freeze up and recall unwanted memories that you wish could bury forever in the back of your mind.

But buried memories can’t always stay buried. They return, eventually, in time, whether you’re prepared or not.

You can’t tell how much time has passed but when you feel something against your feet accompanied by small little pants, you open your eyes to find the little puppy that accepted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

You look down at him and he returns your gaze with a tilt in his head, tail wagging, and swirls about in a circle once before using his nose to poke at your leg again. He reminds you of the children at The Academy, how they’ve never been scared of you despite wanting to always push them away with your cold demeanor. It’s like Kiwi sees right through you, just like them, and in your silence, you pick up the small little thing to bring him onto your lap.

His tail wags a little more and when you run your hand through his fur, he gets a little more excited and affectionate.

Besides the children, there’s someone else you see in him.

“You remind me of someone,” you say as he nuzzles into the feeling of your palm. “Though unlike you, he wasn’t too fond of me in the beginning. It took some time for him to warm up but once he got to that point, he wouldn’t stop following me around.”

You fall silent again, thinking, remembering, reminiscing, and your fingers stop playing around with the little puppy on your lap.

The memories aren’t as hazy as they used to be, they’re a little clearer, a little closer to home. You can feel it in your heart when something feels like it’s just stabbed it, and in your stomach when you feel a little drop.

“I’m sorry for being selfish,” a voice whispers into your ear. “I’m sorry for only ever thinking about myself.”

But the thing about that is, you cannot be sorry for something that is within your nature, you cannot be sorry for wanting to put yourself first in a cruel, cruel world. When everything feels wrong, when the world feels like it’s always against you, when you do not know who to put your trust in.

If you were a little more mature and a little more brave, would you have been able to tell him the things you want to say now?

Things like; it wasn’t your fault. Things like; it’s alright, and you’re okay, and rest well.

Rest well, rest well, rest well.

You lean your head forward to the sky, gaze closed, as if hoping the things you spoke within your heart could be heard from him wherever he stays.

And as the silence continues, you feel your consciousness eventually slip away as your shoulders loosen their tensions with the feel of the little puppy resting well in your lap.

You didn’t realize it, that you had fallen asleep, but you know yourself waking when you feel a presence closing in and immediately opening your eyes to meet the old man who has a blanket hovered before you, his eyes falling a little surprised because he hadn’t expected you to wake up so easily.

“It’s good to put your guard down a little, you know,” Alexander says with a small chuckle as you accept the blanket to drape it behind you.

“I’ve learned my lesson with that,” you answer him and scoot over to the edge of the bench in order to make room for him.

He takes his seat beside you though leaves enough space in between and you’re thankful this man is observant. Kiwi’s awake but remains quiet and still, head resting against his paws with his tail swaying side to side.

“Do you have anyone you can trust in this world?” Alexander crosses a leg over the other and you look at your watch to see that it’s about four in the morning.

You managed to sleep in an unfamiliar place while knowing there weren’t any Reapers that could come to you at any second. How odd.

“There are always chances someone can stab you in the back.” Maybe the presence of Kiwi helped you. “It’s never a good idea to put your full trust in anyone.”

“You say that but one day you might come to know it feels rather nice putting unconditional faith in someone.”

You shake your head, brows furrowing. “Even if that someone has a good heart and good intentions, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”

There’s only been one person you know you can truly trust but he’s gone from this world, only ever being able to see him again when he wishes to visit you in your dreams. He’s the only person you’d ever allow to hurt you over and over again, even if it isn’t the real version of him.

Mister Butler can hate you and betray you but you’d let him do it again and again and maybe that’s because in your heart, you know those versions that the nightmares give you are simply from your own imagination and that he’d never truly come to hate you. He’s incapable of betraying your trust. Someone like him, who stayed by your side when he didn’t have to, isn’t a man who can have his heart easily swayed into hating you.

“Are you tired of betrayal?”

“I’m tired of everything,” you admit and he looks at you up and down, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And yet here you are, out in Norway.” Alexander knows a thing or two, he isn’t dumb, and you aren’t someone to think otherwise. He wouldn’t be in the position he is now if he was, and you don’t deny what he implies in his words. “You run straight into the very things that make you tired.”

“Because it is the only way I can feel alive.” You look on straight ahead before you, watching the pretty sky that pokes out from behind the plants of the greenhouse. “Otherwise I’d be in my room, rotting away. There is no purpose in running away, there is no purpose in leaving things be. My father did not leave this world for me to simply carry on as if he never existed.”

Some may take that as you carrying on your father’s legacy and whatever Alexander is thinking, you don’t care too much for it because all it matters is what you know. You didn’t kill your father just to stay silent for the rest of your life. His death was the beginning of everything.

Your turning point.

“And no one can stop a mind that’s already been made up.” Alexander nods, understanding, and doesn’t push for answers, but perhaps in the back of his mind, he’s a little curious about you and your goals and aspirations in this life. What drives you, what made you into the sort of person you are today, but Alexander is wise unlike many old men you’ve met throughout your life, so he doesn’t question things beyond your boundary.

And so he diverts the subject once again, turning it to the puppy in your lap.

“Perhaps you should adopt a pet of your own, to help you ease your mind a little,” he tells you with a fond gaze at Kiwi. “Humans can be quite disappointing, but a loyal pet will stay loyal for the rest of its life. Not to mention they’re the greatest comfort when someone needs it.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you should turn to a dog rather than humans in your time of need. Humans are disappointing creatures after all. But, “It’s too much of a hassle,” you say. “I can’t even take care of my own self properly, it’d be unwise of me to try and take care of another being.”

“...Is that so?”

It becomes a daily occurrence; the talks in the greenhouse, and soon you come to realize that Alexander isn’t one to let just anyone into his greenhouse. The doors that are usually locked during hours when one should be asleep are kept open, and perhaps that’s because he’s come to realize that you don’t sleep a lot, at least not in the house of a stranger, so he leaves them open for you to visit when you need your space.

And in the morning, around four or five AM when he awakens, he’ll come along and strike up a conversation and the two of you will speak about the things he brings up. Things like Seoul and of the Reaper gang, sometimes he’ll ask of Master Kitagawa, other times he’ll ask how far your skills go.

You speak to him in vague terms, careful not to tell him everything, but he comes to know that you were an only child, married once in an arranged marriage, but divorced. He doesn’t seem too surprised by that fact probably because everyone knows this happens all the time.

And in him knowing a little more about you, you come to know a little more about him as well.

Like when Kiwi came into his life and the fact that he’s had other pets throughout his lifetimes before but they’ve all died and left him.

You asked him why he continues adopting pets when he knows they don’t live as long as humans do, why he hurts himself over and over again, but he simply smiles and says that sometimes being able to love is better than being lonely. That it doesn’t matter how many times he has to watch them die and that he’d never regret loving them.

Alexander believes in reincarnation, that the souls of his first puppy dies and returns in the form of the other pets he’s had, so he’s never truly lonely, and something about that, believing in such a thing, though it sounds a bit absurd, is a little bit beautiful in its own way.

If you could believe Mister Butler died and returned through someone else, it’d be a nice delusion to live in, and despite the fact that there have been one or two guys that have reminded you of him, the truth is, no one can ever be Mister Butler.

Not Hoseok. Not Mingyu.

Because Mister Butler is like family. He was. 

Through your marriage with Namjoon, he was your older brother, but he always felt closer to a father figure to you, and perhaps that’s because your father was never there for you. Mingyu is closer to an older brother. A companion. A friend.

And Hoseok?

The one that got away.

The right person at the wrong time.

And because of that fact, you don’t allow yourself to be near him for too long, hence denying his companionship when Jungkook told you it’d probably be better if Hoseok were standing guard at your side rather than him.

It’s true, Hoseok would be better. You wouldn’t be as cautious towards him as you are of Jungkook, but it’s that exact reason that you cannot let him near.

You cannot let him shake your core, so you endure what you can and let Jungkook stay near you despite the constant reminder of what he did all those years ago.

It’s not entirely his fault but as you’ve said, it doesn’t hurt any less.

In your time getting closer to Alexander, he’s refused the appearance of Karl several times. Asher says if he has to, his grandfather will meet him elsewhere. Just not in the house. The guy has come to guess that you’re here because of Karl, and if he’s guessed it, maybe Alexander has too.

Though the old man never brings it up despite the plenty of chances during your greenhouse talks.

“Any progress?”

Dawn remains in the sky as ever and while Jungkook sleeps, you sit on the windowsill to take a call from the other side of the world. It’s a bit chilly to head out today so you stay indoors this time, making sure to keep your voice low.

“Plenty. It’s been quite peaceful these days, it feels a bit out of place.” Alexander’s kindness wasn’t something you expected the first day you walked into Norway. You expected things to be harder after meeting Asher but surprisingly, things are quite…easy, to say the least. “I have a feeling it won’t last too long.”

“No?” Namjoon sounds a little confused on his end. “Why do you say that? Should we come over earlier than planned?”

“No, don’t do that. Come as scheduled,” you say and look away from the window to the man who’s moved from sleeping on the armchair to the bed. It took some time to convince him initially but eventually Jungkook agreed to take the bed since you don’t really sleep anyway.

“You have something planned, don’t you?” There’s some suspicion in his voice and you want to laugh a little at how things are right now.

Who would have thought you’d be back on speaking terms with the man you thought you’d push away for good? But here he is, back and ready to give you his trust. You don’t know if he’s smart or stupid or both. Maybe there’s a bit of both, but it probably took some time for him to consider it, being as the whole thing was about his brother whom he loves very dearly.

Namjoon’s finally using his head.

Though you aren’t too sure if you like it so much.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t know if I can trust those words so easily. The last time you left the country, you disregarded your life just for that plan of yours.”

“Listen.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

There’s a pause on his end before he speaks again. “You didn’t assure me that you won’t do something reckless,” he notes and you internally click your tongue, “which means that feeling of the peace not lasting for long is you actively causing that to happen.” When you don’t respond, he goes on. “Will you stop being so secretive and let me know what you’re thinking? Maybe then you won’t be in the same position you were with Leehyun, and me and my boys and the Reapers will know how to help you.”

Well.

“You can’t keep hiding, Y/N. Stop being so reckless, you’re too reckless.”

“Watch me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“No?”

Another sigh and he knows he can’t win. “Just…if you decide it’s better for me to go over sooner rather than later, let me know. I’ll be waiting. Right here, just a phone call away.”

“...Sure.”

You don’t think too much about it. You don’t want to think too much about it. 

So when the cloud gives way to the sun and it shines higher in the sky, you finally take up Karl’s request to have tea and catch up, deciding you shouldn’t keep running away from what you’re trying to face.

You have Yeonjun stay by your side this time, rather than Jungkook, in case Karl says something out of line and Jungkook will hear more things than you want him to. You stay in the garden of Alexander’s mansion, keeping a little distance away from the building itself, and with the feel of eyes from a window behind you, the conversation begins.

“I remember him,” Karl points at your escort when he takes his first sip of the tea. “Jun? Joon?” Yeonjun doesn’t make an effort to fix him and simply remains quiet. “Right, never one to talk but always by your side.” His eyes settle back on you, a small glint of mirth in them. “You have quite the loyal companion.”

“Yes..I do.” You ignore his gaze to take a sip of your own tea, keeping your replies short.

“I’m still a bit hurt you didn’t reach out to me about your father’s death. We were good friends, you knew that.”

Of course you did. “I apologize, it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?” He raises a brow, unconvinced. “Hmm…and here I thought, I left a good impression in those four months I stayed in Seoul.”

You did. 

You did indeed leave an impression that will last a lifetime.

“Maybe I should have tried harder?”

That mirth in his eyes. Again.

You want to punch him.

“How did he die though? The man I knew isn’t someone who would have easily died and he would have updated me about his health had he fallen ill.”

“He was betrayed,” you say, not batting an eye, and Karl puts his cup down after hearing that.

His eyes are blown out. “Your father? Betrayed? And he didn’t see that coming?”

“They were smart.”

“Even still..” He can’t believe it, though you don’t blame him too much. The father you both know is not someone who’s easily trusting of others, therefore he’s always right there to pick out someone who will betray him before they can execute their plan. 

That’s why it took so long to manipulate him into believing you were a daughter full on worshiping his ground without an ounce of betrayal in your veins. That’s why your masterful plan took so long. You had to convince your father into believing he had won in manipulating you to his side when all along, you had been waiting to stab him in the back. Facing a man like him, smart, calculating, a manipulating gaslighter who thinks the world centers around him requires more than just simple brains and planning.

It took years to execute your plans and even then you feel like you could have done better with everything. For one, not letting anyone see what had happened, aka Bangtan. But what’s done is done. Dwelling on past mistakes is just stupid and a waste of time.

“And what about you?” When Karl points the finger at you, his gaze narrows, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re his daughter, his perfect little doll. You didn’t see that someone was plotting your father’s death? Is it not your job to protect him?”

“That’s right,” you give him nothing to fight against, just simply accepting the accusations placed upon you. “I failed in protecting him. I am an incompetent daughter who should have done better.”

Karl stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Your father did all that he could for you and still, you–” 

When he looks at you again and meets the gaze you send him, his word stops mid-sentence. Your stare isn’t threatening, it isn’t a glare, nor one that is meant to scare him off, yet something in them lies a hidden threat either way, were he to continue speaking. Karl, seeing that, lets out a chuckle and he closes in on you, patting you on the shoulder before simply leaving his hand there.

You look at it for a second before giving him the attention he wants as he leans in, nose inches away from you.

“Your father created you into the weapon that you are today, my dear little Y/N, and you’ve even been trained under Kitagawa, so why is it that you failed to protect him? Huh? Tell me.”

From the corner of your eye, Yeonjun moves slightly closer, though he keeps his distance and doesn’t dare to make a move unless you instruct him otherwise.

The breath against your face, the touch of skin burning through the thin cloth of your dress, the sides of your knees meeting one another, back straightening up, heels rising from the ground, fingers intertwined into each other, sitting on your lap.

You keep your eyes open, meeting his gaze, but internally you’re counting in your head and holding your breath, hearing the beat of your heart that might as well rip through your rib cages and past the barrier of your skin to physically beat widely before Karl himself.

Maybe he hears it, maybe he can feel it, but whether he does or not, he has no will to move away from you and you know Karl, he isn’t dumb. He knows exactly the effect he has on you right now. He saw it, knows just how you felt all those weeks ago when you were in the living room and he touched you.

He knows and doesn’t care one bit.

Just as he was all those years ago.

They never change.

“What is it that you want from me, Karl?” He doesn’t fix you into calling him uncle this time. “Do you want me to repent on my knees and beg for forgiveness? My father’s already six feet underground, it’s not as if he’ll hear me now, but as his close friend, if you wish for me to do just that, I will. Just for you.”

There’s malice in his eyes, a scoff that leaves him when he watches you, and finally, he moves back. Just a little. “You’ve gotten quite bold, haven’t you? Now that your father isn’t here to teach you a lesson.”

“And if I have? What will you do about it?” You push back, leaning forward, challenging him despite your body screaming at you to run away. “Go ahead and do whatever you’d like with me, there’s no one here right now that can stop you. I can tell Yeonjun to pluck his eyes out right now and he’ll do just that. He won’t say a word and he won’t move unless I tell him otherwise.”

At the mention of the boy, Karl looks over between you and him, and then something in him lights up slightly as if he’d just remembered something. As if he’d just realized something.

“That’s right...what loyal companions…” He steps back, releasing your shoulder, and tilts his head back as he laughs obnoxiously. “Is this all about that little boy I messed with? Him?” The laugh rings a little louder, a little more crazed. “You pretend you’re so cold and have no feelings and yet here you are, chasing after me all the way from Seoul, just for a boy, the second you got the chance. If your father were still here, he wouldn’t have let that happen, but now that he’s gone…-”

He pauses again, and after hurling over laughing, stands back up straight again as the laugh dies all too abruptly. So you stand up from your seat, the corner of your lip curling over as you notice just why he’s gone silent.

By now the tea is slowly getting cold but you don’t care much for it as you stand tall, hands held together before you in a formal manner.

“The person who betrayed him…” His eyes narrow. “Who was it?”

“Oh uncle,” you mock that title, mirth in your eyes, “I think you know exactly where that answer lies.”

Danger.

Something screams danger when his gaze darkens in realization.

And yet you seem to only be attracted to danger as it is the only thing you’ve ever gotten used to seeing every day. The danger of being born as a mafia heir, married to a mafia powerhouse, spiraled into a hellhole you cannot ever seem to escape so you run towards it.

Directly into the fire.

Into the danger.

Provoking your enemies, knowing exactly just what their reactions will be, because danger seems to be the one thing in your life that will never leave and abandon you out of nowhere. The only thing you can forever trust to catch you were you to fall blindly into it.

And blindly you fall, trusting it to come.

And comes it goes, directly your way.

Never disappointing.

Never disappointing.

Namjoon called you reckless and for the first time in forever, you might have to agree with him. Because being reckless means not caring for the consequences to come after committing a rash action. The reckless ones do not care what happens to them, they live off adrenaline, they run towards the fire when everyone else runs away.

Towards the danger despite knowing there will always be a chance they may not survive. Unheeding, stubborn, thoughtless, careless, negligent, imprudent. Unwise, unwary, incautious, hasty.

A fool.

A fool.

A fool.

But misguided and left on their own. Lonely, abandoned, hurt, isolated, rejected, forsaken. An outcast and unloved, a disappointment and broken.

Broken.

A broken little soul whose heart lies empty with a hole pierced through the middle.

You are reckless. You are broken.

And broken things do not know how to save themselves, they only know the warmth of the fire. That is the only thing they can rely on.

So you stay within his vicinity, within Karl’s reach, watching, simply standing there, keeping still, as if keeping vigil. Like you’re just waiting, just expecting for something, anything, the inevitable, to happen. And when it comes in the form of a harsh, harsh slap across the face that has your body turning over to the side and having to hold onto the table to keep your balance, you can’t even say that you are surprised.

It feels like being in the presence of your father all over again, in the face of danger, of a manipulator, of a gaslighter, of an abuser.

He returns hard and so vividly in the form of anger, in the form of a ghost, a spirit whom you see standing right behind Karl. He stands as still as ever, hands held behind his back, simply watching.

Watching.

While you stand before him in front of a man he’s using to command orders over him. Using violence through others because father never raises his hands, father never puts in the effort or strength or power into physical forms. He does it through others, he commands through others, he hurts through others.

Watching until he’s satisfied.

But he’s never satisfied. He’s never satisfied.

And on your end, you can do nothing but accept it all willingly.

There is nothing else you can do, there is nothing else that can be done. It is like being in his presence all over again. Yeonjun, the Reapers behind you, standing still, told to not do a thing, to not move an inch, and your father behind the violence, keeping silent with a deadly gaze.

You return to the past.

You see him.

He’s right there.

And Karl raises his hand again.

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 10: An Act of Trust

*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut

*Warnings: Mentions of drugs, language, anxiety

Authors Note: How has it been so long? It's been a bit of a tough time but I have returned to my happy place. I hope you enjoy this look into the Magic Shop. I copy and paste the Tag List, so for those who no longer wish to be in it, I completely understand. Please just message me and I'll remove you. For any new interested readers who would like to be apart of the Tag List, same thing. Please just be patient with me. I'm on new any depressants and will be trying my very best to keep up with this. No matter what, I will never stop this fic and I will try my best to make any wait worth it. Feel free to drop a like, comment, or anything. Also posted on AO3 under the same name, Enjoy!

Tag list: Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine,  @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynutters, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live​

Chapter 10: An Act of Trust.

            This is incredible, you found yourself repeating as you followed Taehyung through the Magic Shop.

            The mansion was the prime example of the phrase ‘never judge a book by its cover’. Though, if you were being completely honest, Bangtan had shown many examples of that phrase the more you were around them. Where the outside of the Magic Shop was foreboding, broken, and cold, the inside was warm, modern, and inviting. And so well maintained. For a group of young men, the place was immaculate. You thought back to when Jin and Jungkook had cleaned your apartment on the first night and decided that you really shouldn’t be surprised. As you looked about the passing rooms, they were beautifully decorated in a modern style that really complimented everyone and the structure.

            Taehyung had, first, led you down the spiral staircase under the front foyer into what you assumed were the old service areas. Now, it was an expansive garage lined with a vast variety of vehicles. You recognized the truck that Jin had driven you home in, the silver sports car that Taehyung had picked you up in that first day, and the town car that you had just been in. Heuning Kai waved at the two of you from his place by the town car, polishing it to look as new. You looked down the rows in awe. As you took in the fleet of cars, you started to understand that you had vastly underestimated how much money Bangtan must have had. But were all of these bought or were they spoils of the job? Or were some of them stolen? You were really trying not to think so poorly of your hosts, but could it really be helped?

            “Nice, huh?” Taehyung crossed his arms with pride as he leaned against a very nice looking black two-door car. He nodded over towards the familiar pickup truck. “That was the first truck we bought back in the early days. We lived off of cheap ramen and stolen veggies, but it was worth it. Jin put a lot of hardware into it over the years. He stayed up a lot of nights reading mechanic books to make it work for us. Now we’re able to hire mechanics who will follow whatever design and dream he can think up to help us. Like bulletproof glass and exteriors, homing beacons, storage and seats that fold down so we can use the space for anything. They, even, have this feature that sends an alert to all of our phones if the vehicle’s ever in an accident so we can get to each other.”

            “I suppose Jin thought of everything, didn’t he?”

            “Yeah,” Taehyung smiled a huge boxy grin. “Jin-hyung is all about keeping us safe. He’s like the mom of our family. He’s always taken such good care of us.”

            As your eyes roamed across the row of vehicles, your eyes caught sight of a sleek, black motorcycle in the farthest corner of the garage. You had always wanted to ride on one ever since one of Amber’s friends came by the hospital to show his new one off. But you had always been too scared to ask to ride along; working in the ER would do that to a person.

            “Like that? That’s Jungkookie’s, He always wanted one. And Yoongi-hyung and Jiminie bought it for him as a graduation present to encourage him to finish school. He was so excited when he went to go pick it out. It’s his favorite thing. Seems like you like it too. I’m sure if you ask him, he’d take you on a ride. As long as he doesn’t combust from shyness. I’d suggest you wait until you’ve been around him more before you ask him.”

            “Oh no,” you said, turning back towards Tae. “I don’t think that would be very smart. Do you know how many cases in my ER are from motorcycle accidents? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You were sure by the look on Taehyung’s face that he could hear the disappointment in your tone as you tried to fool yourself.

            He smiled. “You know that is the same argument that Jin-hyung said when it was brought home. But I know I have a picture of them riding on it together.”

            Taehyung, then, led you out of the garage. As you ascended the spiral stairs back into the front foyer, you were taken down the hallway where Namjoon had appeared towards the kitchen. The hallway was lined with what looked like framed family portraits of Bangtan throughout the years. There were some of them all together dressed all nice, and a few of them in random units posed in fun ways. It was interesting to see how they grew and changed over the years. But it was, also, sad to see how young they were. You paused in front of what appeared to be their first family photo. Where the other photos were in suits or business casual attire, their first picture looked as if they had watched too many hip-hop music videos. Dressed in fake basketball jerseys and hats, or in layered phony designer shirts and too much eyeliner, they looks so young and inexperienced. You almost didn’t recognize Namjoon with his crazy hair and dark glasses, or Jimin with his very tanned skin and shaggy black hair. And Jungkook looked like he had barely started puberty with his round doe-eyes. It really made you wonder what could cause such young kids to turn to gang life. Yoongi and Namjoon you understood since Yoongi had explained his side to you. But were all their stories the same? You had to figure out how to ask them.

       The kitchen looked like it belonged to a showroom with top-of-the-line appliances set against stunning marble counter tops. You imagined this is what a world class chef would want. It was beyond clean and spacious with a large capacity refrigerator and freezer, a fully stocked wine cabinet that almost reached the ceiling, a huge stove and dual ovens, and a large island that could be used for anything. Off the main part, set against a large set of windows that overlooked a courtyard in the middle of the Magic Shop, was a cozy breakfast nook and a fully stocked coffee bar that could meet the needs of the pickiest of coffee drinkers. There were a few different machines for different types of coffee, syrups, stirrers, and different sugars. The enticing smell of whatever Namjoon had made still permeated the room.

            The only thing that was missing was the staff to man such a space. Perhaps they had the morning off?

            Taehyung opened up the fully stocked cabinets, pantry, and fridge to show off their contents and told you to that you would help yourself to anything whenever you wanted.

            “We always make extra so you can have whatever. Or, if you would rather cook something for yourself, by all means. But since one of us will be with you, we may offer to do it.”

            “You all cook?” You remembered the amount of food Jin had ordered the first night for you and figured that’s what they did regularly.

            “Some of us do,” he remarked with a shrug. “Namjoon-hyung can only really make coffee. And my skills are a bit limited. But the others are really good at it. We always leave leftovers if we are out late on missions for the other. We try to have family dinner when we are all together. And we talked about letting you come too, since you’ll be here for a while. If you want, that is. But trust me, you’re gonna want to.”

            “So, you make your own food? I would expect a place like this would come with a fleet of cooks since you all would be…busy.”

            Taehyung laughed. “You would think so. But we are pretty self-sufficient. Other than our hired Army, we don’t really have a staff full time. I mean, there are two mechanics that come to tune up the cars every month, a couple ladies who come in to do a deep clean every three months or so, and Jin brings in a couple helpers once in a while when he’s stuck in whatever he’s working on. But that’s only a very few very trusted people. They’re all older locals though who we’ve helped over the years, so we know they won’t betray us. It’s just safer if we keep it low. When we bring in new people, it’s blind like how we did with you. Not that we don’t trust you. I mean…” Taehyung started trying to figure out how to better explain it.

            “It’s alright. I understand. I am a stranger to you guys. Despite how many card games I’ve beat you at or coffee dates you take me on.” You smiled as your little joke seemed to ease the tension. “It makes sense really. It’s better to be cautious. If anything happens to me, I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I could.”

            “Hey,” Tae brought his hand to your shoulder, face very serious, “nothing is going to hurt you here. I trust you. Call it my superpower, but I can read people really well. All the years on the street do that to a person. You are a good person. Otherwise, we would have blindfolded you before you stepped out of the car. Everyone agreed to welcome you in our home not just because of all you’ve done for Hyung. We could have just set you up in a safe house if I thought you were up to something.”

            You were sure he was being genuine with you. He did seem like he was going very beyond the bare minimum he needed to do had it been some other person. You knew he was trying to make you feel safe and comfortable in this whole situation. They were doing so much for you, you just needed to allow yourself to relax and not think about all the other things. You tried to ignore the dark cloud that kept coming up the second you started to forget their profession and focus on the person.

            From the kitchen, you were lead to the outside courtyard. It must have been intended to be a beautiful event space in its conception. There were moss covered statues, an elegant fountain surrounded by ivy covered iron benches, and beautiful plants that brought so much color to the space. Above, there was a façade that looked like a tapered roof covered in ripped tarps that Tae explained let in a lot of light and rain but kept anyone or thing from seeing inside. Bangtan had really thought of everything to keep the Magic Shop secret. Across the courtyard and through another door, you were shown an impressive gym with an attached studio that Taehyung explained was used for combat training, dance practice, or anything they wanted. Next to that was a shower, steam room, and a large indoor swimming pool. All of which was fair game for you to use if you wanted to.

            After that, the excited man showed you what he deemed ‘the living space’. Up the stairs to the second floor, there was a massive formal dining room, a small library that you really wanted to explore, a small infirmary, a game room, and some office used for whatever they wanted to work on privately. He pointed to another staircase and mentioned that some of their bedrooms were up on the third floor and so were Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s personal workspaces. Jin’s workspace was in the basement, while Jungkook’s room and personal gaming room was on the attic floor with Taehyung’s art studio. There was so much space in this house that you began to wonder if there was a map so you wouldn’t get lost. Before you could try to remember how to get back to the last room, you found yourself in an expansive living room. You figured this may be where you’d be spending a majority of your time. The room was open design with a massive L-shaped couch that seemed like it could fit more than seven, sleek coffee tables, two elegant armchairs with oversized ottomans, and a few beanbag chairs stacked in a corner. Mounted to the wall was a huge flat screen television and on either side of it where towering shelves full of movies, tv series, music, and video games to last a lifetime. There were multiple gaming consoles stacked neatly on top. And on the far wall, there was a small mini fridge, a cupboard with snacks, and a small bar. It was homely and comfortable.

            “We spend a lot of our down time together in here,” Taehyung said, smiling at your awed expression. “It’s probably one of my favorite rooms, besides my bedroom.”

            “I can see why. It has pretty much everything in here. It’s bigger than my apartment. Well, this house is so large it’s a wonder how you can find anyone in here. I still haven’t seen Jimin, Jungkook, or Jin. I feel like I could walk right past them in here and never know it.”

            “Well, Jin is on the basement level working on something. We won’t need to go down there. There is nothing there that’d interest you. Honestly, it’s a bit more confusing to get down there anyway so just try to stay on the first two floors. But. he’ll come up for lunch in a while. Since I didn’t see Jungkook in here or the gym, my guess is that he is probably still in his room. He was up late last night playing video games and is most likely still sleeping. But if ever in doubt, always start looking for him in the gym or where his games are. As for Jimin, I’m not sure where he is. He was excited for you to come to the Magic Shop. I thought he would meet us in the front or outside. That was his plan anyway. Something might have come up. I’m sure we’ll see him at lunch. Oh yeah, there’s someone else I want you to meet. Now, where is he?”

            Suddenly, while you were distracted by some of the framed, less staged photos on the wall, something small and fuzzy ran across your foot. You shrieked and it took everything in your body to keep from kicking at whatever it was as you fell back into one of the armchairs. Taehyung let out a loud laugh that filled the space and had him holding his sides.

            “Tannie! There’s my baby boy.” You turned over the chair to watch him stoop over and pick up a small black and brown Pomeranian puppy. The puppy yipped happily and gave his owner sloppy kisses that Tae returned. “I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Such a silly boy. You shouldn’t scare our guest like that. She’s a nice girl, the one I told you about. Say you’re sorry.”          

            The puppy let out a big yawn. You weren’t sure if that was the apology Taehyung was expecting.

            “Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that. I’ve been a bit jumpier than usual. I wasn’t expecting such a tiny thing to come running at me. You guys never mentioned that you had a dog.”

            “I didn’t? That doesn’t sound like me. I could have sworn I had talked about him a few times back in the hospital.” If you were honest, he might have. But there were plenty of times when you were fighting your many battles about trusting them that you tuned out most of the conversations. “This is Yeontan. He’s only eight months old. You don’t mind dogs, do you?”

            “No, I like all animals. He’s very cute,” you pushed off from the chair and stepped a bit closer. When Taehyung held the small dog out to you, you reached over and lightly scratched him behind his fuzzy ear. Yeontan let out a happy noise and licked your hand. You laugh a bit. “He’s so sweet. But I’ll be honest. I would never have suspected someone like you to have such a tiny dog.”

            “Oh, sure. I get that. Jungkookie keeps saying we should get a Doberman as a guard dog. That would definitely fit our image better. But I could never replace Tannie. He’s all mine.” Taehyung hugged the puppy close, and it warmed your heart. “I’ve always wanted a little dog ever since I was a kid. But a bad home life made it difficult. But all the guys pulled together and helped me get this little guy as a present. And I sold a few pieces in order to save up for classes so I could better take care of him. I wanted to be the best owner for him.”

            The way that Taehyung spoke and interacted with the dog was such a juxtaposition to the wicked mafia persona you had figured hid beneath. It was so cute that you could only wonder if someone would ever treat you with the same amount of affection. Had you not known about that side of his life, you’d swear he was just this lovable guy with a large heart. Though, something he had said gave you pause.

            “Save up? I feel like you all have more money than I can even imagine. I mean,” you made a grand gesture to the room, “why would you need to save up for anything?”

            “I’m sure it seems that way. Sure, we’re pretty well off. But when we first started, we were so poor, we didn’t have enough money to eat. We stole from the gas station just to eat once a day. And when we started out, we were nobodies, so it wasn’t like we were making anything. Whatever we did earn from gang activities went to important things like medicine and renting a room for the night, so we didn’t have to sleep on the street. Then, it went towards necessities, like weapons for protection or clothes so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter. Or bail when we got caught by the police. So, to ensure we would be able to make it and not be picked off by the other gangs, we got day jobs. Namjoon worked the gas station we stole from to make it up to the old man who owned it, Yoongi-hyung was a delivery boy, and Hobi-hyung and Jimin worked at a dance studio. Kookie and I found ways to help. The only one who had any money was Jin-hyung. His family was loaded. When I first met Jin-hyung, before I met the others, he was a student, and I was a street kid just trying not to go home. I saw him at a bus stop I used to tag all the time. He said my work was cool and just like a puppy, I started hanging around him. He fed me and even tried to teach me what he was learning since I dropped out. Then we met the others and Jin-hyung was using his money to help us. But when his father learned who he was hanging around, he cut him off. Until he was able to black mail his father.”

            “But,” Taehyung continued, seeing how off topic he was getting, “the point was, we always had other ways to get money that weren’t gang related. Even now, as big as we are, we still have little side jobs we do. It breaks up the monotony and gives us a little bit of an escape. What we earn from gang activities belongs to Bangtan; the upkeep of the house, paying Army, hospital bills, and our equipment. Anything we earn from our side hustle is ours for our own pleasure. That dance studio that Jimin and Hobi-hyung worked at, they now own. Jungkookie competes in videogame competitions and films himself playing games on the internet. Jin continues his family business, without his actual family. And Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung did music underground back in the day before all the gang stuff, and they still do. They write and produce demos and sell them. You’ve probably heard a few of their stuff. And we all help them sometimes. We joke that if we weren’t in this line of work, we’d probably be a world-renowned band. Funny huh?”

            Wow, you thought as you tried to process what he had just told you. There is so much more to these guys than I thought. How can they be this down to earth?

            “And what do you do?”

            “I told you that I used to be a street artist, right? Nothing too special; just tagging and doing funny graffiti. But the others really inspired me to keep going. Hell, Namjoon got arrested with me when I was attempting to improve some offensive street art someone left outside one of our favorite places just because he wanted to see me improve myself. Now, I’ve moved to a bunch of different mediums; I’ve tried charcoal, photography, drawing, and painting. I took all of those pictures,” he said pointing to the walls. “It’s pretty easy to find a muse when you have a great support system. Here let me show you some of my pieces.” He took your hand and led you out of the living room with a bounce in his step.

            He took you up the stairs and to his art room. You were fairly positive that this was not supposed to be part of the tour since this was where their more private spaces were. But the look on Tae’s face when he showed you his art room was enough to show you that he was very excited to show off his work to you. The room had hardwood floors and walls covered with different sizes of framed pictures of different famous artists that he admired. The room was loaded with supplies like stacks of canvases, drawing supplies and paints, different cameras, and drop clothes to protect the floor. There was a small couch and chairs that you recognized from some of the family portraits. He went over to a desk and grabbed a book. It was labeled Vante, which you remember used to be his street artist name before he shortened it to V for his gang related work. He flipped through the book and handed it to you when he found what he was looking for. There were pictures of different art pieces he had made. Each page had photos of the progression and the finished product with handwritten notes next to it as to when it was sold and for how much. The numbers made your eyes widen. There were things that you would expect to see in a museum. You were speech-less.

            He grabbed your hand once again and led you out of the studio and into the hallway. There were some more pieces hanging throughout the hallways, those he wouldn’t part with. There was one that was so breathtaking; it was a black and gray background, with a single light source from up center. In the center of the spotlight was a dancer clad in white, whose body was carved through shadows and face shown pale in the light, eyes closed in a serene way as if he was lost in the music you couldn’t hear. His arm was extended up to the light like a ballet dancer, so graceful. His hair, a steely blue, and the gathering shadows accentuate his sharp yet delicate features. And the more you looked at it, the more you began to realize that you had seen this person before.

            It was Jimin.

            As you were led to more art pieces, you started to realize that Taehyung had used Bangtan in many of them. They were breath taking. Not only were they all so good-looking, but the way Taehyung painted or photographed them made them look otherworldly. Near the end of a staircase that would lead to the top floor back to the floor some of their bedrooms could be found on, you found yourself stopped in front of what you came to realize was your favorite. It was a black and white photo made to look like a painting. There were seven people in front of a white background that looked like hands reaching out for each other. Five of the seven were leaning on each other, hunched over in a dramatic way. In the center were the final two, both with their arm up, one reaching for the sky and the other grasping the first wrist afraid to slip and let go. It was so simple yet complex, so artistic. You weren’t sure how long you were staring at it until Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts.

            “I was commissioned to make this for someone. But when it was done, I couldn’t part with it. The others loved it too. They hated that I was supposed to sell it to someone who wouldn’t understand it. So, Yoongi-hyung paid the commissioner for it, three times what he was going to pay me for it. Said he didn’t care how much the man wanted for it. It meant so much to us that it was priceless. Yoongi-hyung says it’s his favorite. I think it’s yours too.”

            “It’s so beautiful. You are truly an amazing artist.”

            “I have some great muses.”

            Taehyung and you stood there in silence a bit more before the silence was broken by someone coming out of one of the rooms. It was Hoseok. He looked a bit disheveled and breathless as if he had just run a mile, hair no longer sleek and tidy. He closed the door softly and turned with a grin, licking his lips in some sort of victory. He clapped his hands together and started down the hall with a hop in his step.

            He froze when he saw the two of you looking at him. “Umm...” he started nervously, “what are you two doing up here?”

            Oh right, I’m probably not meant to be up here. That’s why he’s confused. You turned your eyes back to the floor and your shoulders started to hunch. You didn’t want to intrude on their space. You were just following Taehyung and thought it was okay. But it would seem like not everyone was alright with his idea.

            Tae noticed the change in your posture and was having none of that, especially after he worked so hard to get you out of your shell to begin with. “I told you I was going to show her around the house. I was showing Y/N some of my artwork in my studio and figured I would show off the good ones. She really likes this one. I can’t say I blame her.”

            Hobi looked over at the painting. “Oh yeah, it is pretty. But don’t you have a copy of it in your phone you could have shown her? I thought we were just gonna keep it to the ground floors until Namjoon-.”

            “I’m sorry,” you said, arms wrapping around yourself in a nervous way. “I’m not trying to intrude. I wouldn’t have come up here unless Taehyung had brought me.”

            Hoseok noticed the way your hand clenched at your clothes and how you didn’t look at him in the face. And suddenly, he felt bad. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised. We normally don’t have people up here. I wasn’t expecting you. I don’t care if you come up here. Just as long as you don’t go into any rooms without permission.”

            “Well, of course she won’t, hyung. You see how nervous she is just at the thought of intruding. I just didn’t want her sitting in one room all day. Jeez, she’ll probably be hanging on the first two floors anyways. That’s where all the fun is.”

            Hobi threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, Taehyungie, I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Y/N, I’m sorry. I was just surprised. It’s been a long morning.” You nodded your head in confirmation.

            “Now to a better point. What were you doing?” Taehyung fixed his hyung with an accusing look and a smirk from behind you. As if I can’t guess.

            Hobi frowned back at Taehyung before pushing his hand through his hair to tidy himself back up. “I was making sure Hyung went to rest and not back to work. You know how Yoongi-hyung can be when he’s away from his screens. He took some convincing but he’s asleep now in his room. And I,” he fished a key from the pocket of his jeans, “stole the key to the Genius Lab so he won’t be tempted to sneak in and work. He should be out for a few hours. He may skip lunch for now, but I’ll make sure he eats before he needs to have his next dosage for you.” He smiled brightly at you. “So, what do you think of the Magic Shop?”

            “It’s incredible. You guys must have really worked hard to make it so beautiful.”

            “Yeah, it took a few years to get right. But it’s been such a great sanctuary for us. Tell you what, I need to go into town for a bit. I’m sure Taehyung has told you about the dance studio if he’s showing off all his side work. I need to pick up Jimin. He apparently was called in this morning to help with some minor things but he’s not feeling too well to drive back alone. But when I get home, I’ll show you something we’ve been working on with the kids in our class. It’s really fun. Then we can all have lunch.” Hobi moved past you two, making sure to greet Tannie with a series of silly voices and pets.

            Taehyung gave his hyung a confused look. “Is Minnie okay?”

            “Yeah, he’s fine. It’s just about the end of the month. I’m sure he’s gonna try to push it off again.” Realization dawned on Taehyung and he smacked his head for overlooking it with everything going on. You didn’t ask what they meant since it really wasn’t your business. Perhaps it was just some stress related thing that focused on his time of the month. You were sure with everything going on, Bangtan must push themselves too far and that leads to poor health. If Jimin was sick, you would be happy to check him out since you were there to be an in-home care. It would give you something else to focus on. The two said goodbye and Hobi dashed down the stairs.

            “Come on, let’s take Tannie out in the courtyard and I’ll show you some more of pieces on the way.

            You happily followed him, chasing after the positive feeling you had earlier. Your anxieties had been growing more difficult to contain. It must be because you weren’t taking your medicine. You were hoping Dr. Na would have been helpful in finding out what it was so you could get back on track. But with everything that happened back at the hospital, you hadn’t been so lucky. You didn’t even turn in the script he had given you for a mild antianxiety medication to take in its place because you were still so mad at him and hurt. And yet, here you were with the people who ruined him for you, acting like they were your friend. All these feelings and emotions were confusing.

            As you arrived back on the second floor and at the landing of the familiar staircase, you both could hear someone walking around, pacing by the sounds of it. At first, you thought it was Hoseok again, but Namjoon’s voice could be heard just a harsh whisper. Whoever he was talking to, he was not happy about something.

            “I can’t believe you are trying to blow me off right now. How is that fair? My family needs security. Didn’t you say it would only take you a few hours? I know I got the dates mixed up but that shouldn’t matter to you. If you haven’t noticed, my family’s been in a bit of chaos recently and you were supposed to help ease some of my tension with information. At least tell me what you do have. What do you mean you aren’t done with your initial check? Why isn’t it done? I’m sure you’re busy, but you owe me!” The closer the two of you got to the stairs, the more you could pick up the frustration in Namjoon’s voice. He walked from a hallway near the bottom of the stairs, phone raised to his ear. He had changed from his morning clothes into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, something more presentable. He didn’t seem aware of the two of you, so engrossed with his conversation. His eyes were narrow behind his glasses. He was agitated in a way you hadn’t seen since he saved you from Choi the first time. And you were not a fan of seeing him angry. “You said you’d come today and now you’re flaking out on me when I need you? That’s really great, Jackson. No, I am not overreacting. I trusted my gut to a point, but I need hard facts here. I needed them yesterday. Just go with it? Jackson, they’re in my house now, and you’re telling me to go with it?! No, two days is not okay! Don’t make me chase you down, you son of a bitch.” He let out a growl that didn’t fit with his current image. Taehyung didn’t like how mad his leader was getting. The younger knew full well what Namjoon was so angry about and he wished he hadn’t used a flighty character like Jackson to do something Tae could have easily done. But he knew that Namjoon needed an outsider’s opinion. “Fucking fine, how long? You better be here in two days or so help me…,” he let the person on the other end of the phone fill in the blank before he ended the call with a huff.

            Taehyung took the opportunity to clear his throat to announce your presence, which startled Joon more than he would have liked. It took him a second before he let his emotions slip back behind the mask of a calm leader you had come to expect. You were aware that Tae was standing closer to you than before, like he was securing your place next to him.

            “Everything ok, hyung?”

            “Yeah, sorry, didn’t see you there. How much did you hear?”

            “Just you getting mad. But don’t worry, it’s all good.” You gather that Taehyung knew exactly what Namjoon was wanting from this Jackson person but didn’t want to explain it to you. He grabbed your hand with his free one and pulled you down the stairs. “Y/N got to meet Tannie. We know how much he doesn’t like new people and, guess what, he likes her. How great is that? He never likes people other than you guys so quickly. He must know she’s a good person.”

            You weren’t sure what else that was supposed mean, but it made the wheels in Namjoon’s head start to turn. Was that conversation about you? Did he not trust you in his home? Then why had they discussed bringing you here? He had hesitated back when Taehyung had mentioned showing you around the house. You knew they wanted to be careful, but wasn’t it their idea to bring you in? Why would he be so concerned now? You remember that he was supposed to talk to you about it before bringing you here but had forgotten. Was it more than just easing you into this that he wanted to talk about? Maybe this was a mistake? Or were you just overthinking things again?

            “Well, I’m taking Y/N to the courtyard. Don’t let Jackson mess you up. You’re smarter than him anyways. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

            You started to follow Taehyung back down the hall. As you passed, you could tell that Namjoon was struggling with something. If it was about you, you wanted to tell him that you would do whatever made them more comfortable, even if that meant staying in one place like you wanted to with Hoseok. But Taehyung took your hand again and gave it a squeeze, like he knew you were overthinking things again. “Wait a second,” Namjoon said, voice sounding like he had come to a firm decision.

            The two of you stopped and looked back at Bangtan’s leader. He took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. And I mean it when I say welcome to our home. This is a bit new for us but considering the circumstances, this is the best option. Jin and I had been talking before about what happens when you come here, and both agree that we want you to be comfortable and not worried about anything. So, that being said, we came to an agreement about something very important. And I’ll let you decide what happens here. I know you said you want us to keep the darker side of our work away from you, and we have tried to respect that as much as possible. Being in our home may make that a bit more challenging. But we are still willing to do that if you want us to. But if you want, this may make being here a whole lot easier and may clear up some of those hesitations about us you may have,”

            You were willing to listen to what he had to say. “What is it?”

            “Yeah, hyung,” Taehyung said, tentatively, unsure of where this was going. “What do you mean? I don’t think we’ve talked about whatever this is.”

            “We haven’t Tae. But Jin-hyung and I talked about it before and based on some gut feelings, this may be for the best for everyone. But it ultimately falls on Y/N to decide. Jin would like to say ‘hello’ to you. He’s in his lab.”

            “Lab?” You had heard them mention a lab many times but you didn’t think that’s what it was. But by the way that Taehyung reacted to and, and how he had mentioned how you wouldn’t want to go down there, made you realize this was more than that.

            “Namjoon-hyung, are you sure about that?”

            He waved Taehyung off. “Like I said, this may make things for you much easier to understand and take some fear of us away. But if you prefer, we can just ignore it fully. But if you are willing, Jin-hyung would like to show you something in his lab. Jin-hyung does a lot of research and is working on something very important that may change how you see us. But it’s important. But if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, and we’ll keep pretending like nothing has changed. I give you control.”

            You hadn’t had much control over the life you could remember. Leaving your ex and choosing to help Bangtan was really the first taste of control you had, and it was still scary. Maybe being in the dark was a good option. But them allowing you to have a say really meant a lot to you. The fear of what you would find out started to be outweighed by the prospect of clarity. But what if they were wrong? Was it better to stay in the dark? You started to wring your hands together. You had already started to change your view of them since Yoongi had talked about his past and Taehyung had showed you things you would have never thought you’d come to see from them. Was that enough to trust that Namjoon was doing what he thought was best? Looking into his eyes, you saw only patience as he allowed you time to process all the thoughts and feelings.

            You took a deep breath. “I hope this goes the way you planned.”

                                       ****************************

            As you followed in step behind Namjoon and Taehyung, with Yeontan held comfortably in the younger’s hand, in a darkened tunnel, you were really hoping that this would go the way Namjoon had hoped. They had taken you from the front foyer where you had started and down the same hall that led to the kitchen. You had been so had been so distracted by the pictures on the wall that you hadn’t noticed that there was an arched door to the left just before you reached the end of the hall. Namjoon pressed his thumb against a scanner on the doorknob and the sound of multiple heavy locks snapped open echoed against the walls. The door swung open to a granite stairway that was dimly lit. Namjoon had explained that this used to take guests down to the old train platform before they renovated it. When they had first taken residence, it had been so ill-kempt and dilapidated that they worried the tunnels would collapse. Most of the platforms and tunnels had been sealed and closed off. And a few that were in good condition were converted into something useful. But the biggest had been designated as Jin’s personal work area. At the bottom of the staircase, you could see the old remnants of the old train tunnels and platforms. The tunnel was dimly lit but you could still see the curve of the arched ceiling, the old support beams, the drop off from the platform to the old rail ways. Claustrophobia started to tighten its fingers around your throat, and your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag in some way to ground yourself. You were sure that anyone who had stumbled into here would have found it abandoned and unsafe. Which, in hindsight, was probably what Bangtan wanted. But you reminded yourself that they wouldn’t put you in danger. And this was supposed to help you.

            Ahead of you, Taehyung and Namjoon were whispering to each other. You were trying not to eavesdrop, but you did catch that Tae seemed worried about this plan. At least he was trying to keep his promise to you and keep you away from things like this. You really did appreciate that and found yourself believing that he really was your friend here. This was a very big deviation from the plan that the two of you had agreed upon a few weeks ago. But something in the way that you caught Namjoon’s plea for the younger to trust him made you want to believe that this was to make everything better. You understood that this was a very big step for them and something that would probably never be taken into consideration. So, this had mean more than you anticipated. You didn’t want to try to imagine what you were being led to. Could it be a scare tactic to make sure you didn’t talk, or something to bribe you? Neither of those fit with the way that Namjoon had presented the option to come down here and you wanted to believe that Taehyung wouldn’t allow it. You took a deep breath to try to refocus your mind on anything else.

            After a bit, as you started to wonder if there was ever an end to this dark tunnel, you could just make out the bricked-up wall that blocked the rest of the way. It was a dead-end, complete with road blockers covered in an inch of dust, caution tape that looked ancient, and crumbling stones. Another façade. Namjoon reached out to one of the broken bricks and pulled it down like it was a lever, which it was, as a door clicked. The door of bricks slid open like some secret passageway in a spy movie revealing a thick wall of steel and a flood of bright light illuminated your shocked face.

            You felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole as you stepped from the dark granite onto sterile white tile. How could you still be in the same place? Taehyung had called it a basement workshop and Namjoon had called it a lab, but this was beyond what you could have imagined based on those descriptions. It was like you had stepped into some blockbuster superhero’s hideaway. The lab was large, larger than the pharmaceutical one at Mercy. There seemed to be sections where different projects were being handled. Stainless steel tables were covered with different lab equipment that looked familiar, vials filled with many different liquids and powders, microscopes of varying sizes and usages, chemical analyzers, and centrifuges of the highest quality. On a wall, there were many canisters of different drugs based on the labels you could make out, many of them you had used in the hospital.  Two people in white lab coats were noting some results of something in a petri dish that you were sure you didn’t want to know what it was. Looking behind the amount of lab equipment, there was a small medical area that looked like a walk-in clinic you had visited once before coming to Central. There was an exam table, stretcher, enough emergency medical supplies that made you feel like you were back in the ER. If they had all of this at their disposal, they surely didn’t really need you around. You remembered Jin had once mentioned he had medical training and took care of the others, but you assumed it was first aid training and not actual medical training.

            On the other side of the room, as clean and as well organized as the lab and medical area, was another workshop that was dedicated to all sorts of different tools and weapons of their trade. There were blueprints for a variety of items pinned to a board with notes and arrows all around them. There were multiple wide touch screens with information and numbers, molds and mockups, knives, guns, and other weapons in different ranges of finishes. You could see three or four dummies that looked as if they had been very well used. One had a vest on with bullet holes in it, another had slashes and stab marks that you dared not think about. Further back, there was what appeared to be a small shooting target lined with thick glass that you assumed was bulletproof to protect the workers. There was another person in a white lab coat and goggles who was working intently on piecing together a handgun. And in the very center of the room, sat a huge computer with four different large, active screens, was Jin. He was dressed sharply, as he always was, complete with a stark white lab coat. A pair of round silver glasses slid down his nose as he scribbled something on a notepad while looked at something dissolving in a yellow liquid. He looked like some handsome yet mad scientist at work. The glow of the screens cast a pale pallor on his skin and you could see a tiredness on his drawn features. Whatever he was working on, he must have been at it for a while, or was stressing him out a bit.

            “Did I somehow stumble into the Batcave?”

            “Feels like that sometimes. Jin-hyung’s like the Korean Bruce Wayne isn’t he,” Taehyung laughed.

            “I think he’d prefer Tony Stark,” Namjoon remarked.

            “Aren’t they the same thing,” you asked.

            “I’ll ignore that since you’re cute, Darling,” Jin called out, never looking from the liquid in the beaker in his hand. “But there is a preferrable difference.”

            Yeontan started squirming in Taehyung’s arms until he was placed on the tile and ran to Jin’s side. The tiny puppy jumped, trying to climb up into his lap, crying out for more attention.

            “Aish,” Jin exclaimed, dropping the beaker on the table, thankfully not breaking. “Taehyung why is Yeontan in my lab?! We talked about this.”

            “But he missed his Uncle Jin so much,” Taehyung smirked.

            Jin rolled his eyes as he scooped up the puppy and made his way over to the three of you. He handed the puppy back to Taehyung after scratching the pup’s tiny head. “Just keep an eye on him. I don’t want to think of what he could get into.” He turned his attention to you, flashing you a warm smile. “Welcome to my lab, Y/N. I’m so glad you decided to join us down here. I promise that you won’t regret it. I was hoping to meet you when you first got here but I’ve been quite busy. I trust Taehyung has shown you the house. Though,” he fixed the younger with a sideways glance, “I see he didn’t show you where to put your stuff down and has made you carry it all this way. I know I have taught you better manners than that.”

            “No, he’s been such a good host. I just never set it down. Actually, it’s been nice to hang onto,” you explained, saving Taehyung from whatever tongue lashing he was about to receive. “It gives my nervous hands something to do.”

            “Ah, well, we do know a bit about anxiety and habits here. Do whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He dusted off his hands and slipped his glasses into the top pocket of his lab coat.

            Up close, Jin looked just as amazing as always. Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag again, just to keep from getting overwhelmed. This was going to be a normal occurrence if they were all going to be here with you. His pink hair was combed back from his face as if he had ran his fingers through it many times while working. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a grey sweater vest, dark trousers, and polished shoes. Somehow, he always looked like he was modeling for something. Though, you did notice a bit of bruising peeking out on his collarbone.

            “Are you okay? It looks like you had some issues with CrossFit too.”

            Jin looked at you with a look of utter confusion. “CrossFit?”

            You nodded. “Yes, Namjoon has one too. He said he got it from doing CrossFit with you. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

            Jin’s eye were drawn behind you to his members, who were silently trying to communicate without drawing your attention. Joon was pointing to the mark on his own neck before making a pleading motion with his hands. Taehyung was trying to communicate their intention with his eyes as much as possible.

            “Oh yeah,” Jin said, slowly, realization striking him before he slid back into his trained persona so not to arise any suspicion from you. “CrossFit. Right. Well, you know how it goes. He crossed me so I did what I saw fit.” From behind you, Namjoon seemed to choke on air and Taehyung tried his best to stifle a laugh. You turned around to see what was going on, completely confused and clearly missing something. But Jin turned your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about me, Darling. My perfect skin may be marred for the moment but I will survive. But thank you for your concern.”

            “Well, it is sort of my job. Though based on what I see, you really don’t need me.”

            “Nonsense! You are a professional, and we could definitely use someone with your delicate touch. Whatever you may need, you can just ask. And if I don’t have it, I will get it for you faster than any hospital could. I know many higher ups in all the companies in the country and they would leap at the chance to get in my good graces.”

            Suddenly, a loud bang ricocheted off the wall and made you scream and drop your bag, spilling its contents all over the floor. Bangtan only moved from your scream. Jin’s hands came up to grasp your shoulders, steadying you and trying to reassure you of your safety. He bend down so he was able to look into your eyes and whispered assurances that you were alright. From behind Jin, the young man who had been dealing with the handgun had finished piecing it together and fired a shot at the target. He looked over at you with a surprised look on his face, not realizing someone new was in the room. Taehyung had already crossed the room and snatched the gun from the younger’s hands and stowing it away. He gave Soobin a pointed look that spoke volumes. Namjoon had stoop down to start retrieving your bag. 

            “Soobin,” Jin yelled over his shoulder, “you didn’t think to look up before you shot that? Or at least put a silencer on it?”

            “I’m sorry, sir,” the youth replied. “I’m really sorry ma’am.” He scrambled away from the work bench and over to you all to assist Namjoon in locating all of your items.

            “I’m sorry, Darling, I really didn’t want something to scare you. My intention was to make this less scary for you. Here, come sit over here. Take a deep breath for me. Taehyung, can you go get her some water? Take another deep breath, Darling. Yes, just like that.”

            “This was a mistake,” you said between breaths, alternating between wringing and shaking your hands to try get the tremors to stop. Your voice was cracking as you tried to keep from crying out of sheer panic. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come in here. Why did you think this would be a good idea? What was the point? To scare me into keeping your secrets?

            “Absolutely not. We would never want to put you through that. We trust that you won’t say anything. This was to shed some light on what we’re actually doing here.”

            Taehyung appeared next to you with a bottle of water, which you graciously took and swallowed half the bottle.

            “Hyungs,” he pleaded, “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. We wanted her to be comfortable and she asked us to hide this part of us as much as possible.”

            “And we did,” Jin agreed. “Y/N, we tried. And it was easier when it was just going from your place to the hospital and back. But with you being in our house, unless we lock you up in the living room, it’s going to be hard for you not to see some aspect of our work. That’s why Joon and I had this conversation. We thought that after all the time we spent making this relationship with you that you’d trust us enough. And we thought if you saw what we are working on down here, it might clear the air and ease some of these anxieties that still plague you. But we’ve taken an unexpected turn. Just try to relax. You’re still shaking.”

            “I wish I had taken Doctor Na’s offer for some new anti-anxiety medication,” you muttered to yourself, remembering his suggestion in the stairwell. You had a feeling your anxieties were just going to get worse.

            You looked over as Namjoon came to the desk with your bag, all its contents gathered back inside. All except a familiar clear bottle. Your old medication that you had forgotten was in there since the night Doctor Na had followed you into the stairwell after you saw the exchange of U4-1A. The familiar want you felt then of wanting to down that last pill in the bottle and escape world came back. But you didn’t take it then, you didn’t need it now. You wanted nothing to do with that past life anymore. Hell, you only wanted to know what it was so you could find an alternative that wouldn’t remind you of Daniel. But the temptation was strong as Namjoon held it out for you.

            “This is yours, right,” he questioned. “I found it rolled under a table. And it doesn’t look like anything Jin-hyung’s been working on.”

            “It’s mine,” you said as you took it from him. “It’s old medication from my ex-…um, I mean, from my accident. I ran out and Doctor Na was trying to figure out what it was since the label’s been lost. But our hospital pharmacy couldn’t identify it. I forgot to clean out my bag with…everything going on.”

            “May I?” Jin held out his hand for the bottle. You shrugged, handing it to him. He dumped the pill into his palm and started to examine it with the same focused intensity as he had earlier. He made a face. “A generic white pill with no discernable characteristics. And you don’t remember its name?”

            “I don’t remember ever hearing it. I started taking it after I woke up from my accident. The nurse or my ex would just bring it to me. And then, Daniel would get it refilled after that since I couldn’t drive. When I came to Central, I only had what was left in the bottle and had to space it out. I haven’t taken it for a couple weeks now. It’s probably why my anxiety is really bad.”

            “I can find out what it is for you. I guarantee I’ll have more success than some basic pharmacist fresh out of school. I’ve some connections I can talk with to help me analyze it. And,” Jin held up a hand to silence the protest you were about to pose, “these connections are not gang related. Before I became estranged from my family, I was the second heir to the largest pharmaceutical company in all the country. Despite my father’s best efforts, I was very friendly and charming with our specialists and made plenty of valuable connections to help me in the future. So, if anyone can figure out what this is, it’s me.”

            You were stunned into silence. You remember him mentioning medical training and about his father pushing for a different career, but you never imagined he was a part of the Kim Pharmaceutical dynasty. Of course, you had heard of them; all the hospitals pharmacies in the city were stocked with their products, and every doctor read their research reports and trail information. They beat out every other company when it came to advancements in health services. And they were close to celebrity status amongst the papers. You recalled overhearing some pharmacy interns at lunch talking about them. They mentioned that the company was ran by the Senior Mr. Kim, who had been married twice after his first wife passed, leaving him with two sons to take over the company in the next few decades. The oldest was always showing up in the papers. And the second son was said to be away at some foreign school. Which, now knowing that Jin was the second son, was much better for their publicity than saying ‘a part of the most notorious drug dealing, ruthless Mafia families’. You remembered that night in your apartment when Jin had mentioned blackmailing his father for access to his assets. And, looking around at the lab, it seemed to have paid off well.

            As you let the information settle in your mind, you realized that your hands had stopped shaking and your breathing had evened back out. They had successfully distracted you from your panic so your mind could recenter. Well, you recalled, they did say that they had experience with anxiety.

            “Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said, gently, “let’s head back upstairs. We’ll find something normal to distract ourselves until the others are ready for lunch.”

            “Alright,” you said with a deep sigh, “but, before I have another panic attack here, what was so important that I had to come down here? Just tell me. Please.”

            “Ah, of course,” Jin said, reaching over to a drawer and pulling out a small clear container. Inside, you could see several small, heart -shaped, pink tablets, no bigger than a breath mint. You had seen the news, read the papers, heard the doctors talking about it. That was U4-1A, Euphoria. When the first few cases had started coming into your ER, you were told to check and see if they had those heart-shaped pills on them, though you had never seen them. The distinct pink color was, also, a dead giveaway; it was the same color the user’s irises turned when they were high on the addictively deadly substance. The few times you had been in the room with some of the addicts that Doctor Na was working with, you recalled a rose-colored ring on the edges of their eyes that seemed so unnatural. Your stomach twisted at the thought of Henry taking the drug from Namjoon when he was supposed to be helping people. He couldn’t even deny it. “You know what this is?”

            “Why the hell would you show that to me?! I asked for one thing. I could look past some things, try to ignore things. Like I could ignore the amount of money coming and going. I could ignore the weapons, or any other reminders. But I asked specificity for this not be mentioned.”

            “Darling,” Jin chided in an amused tone, “I just asked what this was.”

            “Are you fucking for real? It’s Euphoria…”

            “Wrong,” Jin interrupted as he reached out and tapped you on the nose, completely taking you off guard and disarming you. “This isn’t Euphoria, or U4-1A. This is Euphoric. U4-1C.”

            Never heard of that. “Okay. So, what? It’s a knock off?”

            Jin looked offended. “A knock off. My dear, like me, it’s an original that others fail to compare to. It is the only one of its kind and so important to the work we do here. And before you insinuate, no, it is not what started this addict epidemic. The ones who have that despicable honor are Ji and the Royals. This” he held it up to you again so you could see it was more closely shaped like a triangle, “is my solution to it. For the past five or six years now, I have been secretly working on a counter agent to make that horrid drug obsolete and save the people who either willing or unwilling were made to take it. This is going to be the antidote. It’s not finished fully. I haven’t been able to fully identify the exact formula the Royals use. And it’s not an instant cure. But introducing this to someone going through withdrawals, instead of to induce a sexual release, the addict would just need to exert themselves another way, like exercise or something else that released the pleasure signal in the brain. It takes a lot of time and constant dosing but I’ve gotten it to where after so long it can be tapered off from every day to once a month, and soon only once every other month. I am making a cure. And we pass it out to those in need. That’s what I wanted you to see. That we aren’t the bad guys. Well… at least not for this.”

            You let his words absorb and you felt like you had been doused with cold water. So, when Hwasa cornered Namjoon in the hallway of the hospital and took something from his pocket and mentioned ‘someone will find your kindness absolutely… euphoric’, she was taking an antidote to someone addict to U4-1A? That means…what Namjoon had given Henry, what Henry had used for his patients, what he couldn’t talk about was that he was accepting a possible progressive treatment for the poor souls in the hospital. He was, indeed, a good person. And you had thought the worst of him. Any time he tried to talk to you, you’d run in the other direction. You blocked his number and deleted any trace in your phone. You had thrown away everything because you didn’t want to believe him when he had begged you to trust him. 

            “Oh my god,” was all you could say as your head fell into your hands. “I have made a total ass of myself.” Was there a chance Henry would listen to your apology after all of that?

            “You see,” Taehyung said, “I told you we knew the damage Euphoria does to people. We’ve been trying to fight this.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like that night in the car?”       

            “It’s still a work in progress and a secret,” Namjoon said. “Only a few gangs that have proven trustworthy know we supply it. And they distribute it within their own territory. Or, in the case of your doctor friend, those who did us a great service. We did intimidate him into silence. Which was what you must have seen. Can’t say I blame you for what you thought based on what it looked like. He’d get more if he stayed silent. We don’t want our name attached to it just yet. The Royals already want us dead based on our past with them and our part in the Great War. If they knew what Jin-hyung was doing, it would a bigger target on our backs. But once it’s completely finished, then we’ll openly distribute it to the hospitals and clinics. But we hope that you understand the importance of this secret for us. It’s more than just our lives at risk if the wrong people get word of it. And if Choi already thinks that you’re with us, imagine how much worse it will be when he finds out that we are destroying yet another income for them. Do you understand, Y/N?”

            “This whole time, you’ve been doing a great feat and I’ve been so focused on the rumors. You really are the good guys trying to help?”

            “We’re really good at hiding ourselves. We’ve had years of practice showing the persona we want people to believe.

            “Yeah,” Taehyung said with a cheeky grin, “I mean look at Namjoon-hyung. He puts on a persona that he’s smooth when, in reality, he’s a giant dork who breaks everything he touches.”

            “I’ll break you, you fucking brat.”

            Jin reached out and knocked both of them upside the head. “Language!”

            And you laughed. You laughed without the weight of anxiety or fear weighing you down. For the first time, you felt like you were truly safe.

                                                    ****************************

            The next couple of days went by in a pleasant way, falling into a simple routine that you started to look forward to. One of them would pick you up in the morning, making sure to stop by Holli’s Café for a morning caffeine fix, before taking different ways to the Magic Shop that ensured you were still none-the-wiser as to how to get there. Once there, you would find Yoongi either waiting in the kitchen for you or in the expansive gym where you would start with his rehabilitation exercises after you checked and redressed his wounded shoulder. Now that Yoongi was home, there was a difference from the person at the hospital. He was still quiet but much more open to conversations and approachable. The conversations between the two of you were deep and easy like the ones you had with Amber. And you looked forward to them. There was one time you had made a stupid joke that had made him laugh freely. And that felt like a simple accomplishment that warmed you up. And you couldn’t help but find his laugh adorable. One morning, he brought you to his ‘Genius Lab’. According to the others, it was incredibly rare that he even mentioned his safe haven to outsiders, let alone let them see it. But he had made an exception for you.

            The Genius Lab was more like an office where Yoongi spent a good deal of time juggling between work, reflection, and solitude when the world became too much. The space suited his style; grey walls with dark accents and floors, a sleek black desk with three large monitors and computer equipment. Opposite the desk was a long black leather couch that looked quite comfortable. And the room was completely soundproof. When he had brought you into the Genius Lab, he showed off some of his work. You watched as he pulled up different views of various streets all over Central, some storefronts where he pointed out Bangtan’s hired help stationed out front, and the exteriors of the hospital popped up on the screens. You were very thankful that they were still monitoring your workplace. Yoongi tapped on a few keys and different angles of your apartment appeared across the screens, both outside and inside. He played back your morning; Hobi pulling up in a nondescript black car, him swaying to the music in his earpiece as he rode the elevator up, to letting himself into your apartment and waiting for you with Holli’s coffee in his hand. You remembered Taehyung telling you about the cameras they put in your apartment that first morning. While you thought it would be more invasive, you found comfort in his watchfulness.

            This morning had started as usual; Jin had come to pick you up this time to bring you to the Magic Shop. The only one you hadn’t seen since arriving at the Magic Shop was Jimin. He hadn’t appeared at lunch the first day as you expected. You shrugged it off, remembering that Hobi had mentioned he hadn’t been feeling well. But you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. The drive over to the Magic Shop was as winding and secretive as always. Though they had started going in a different way. From the street, it looked as if he had pulled up to an abandoned auto mechanic gas station in the lower section of town. At the touch of a button on the dashboard, a spray-painted door rolled open to a dark tunnel that ended at the parking level of the Magic Shop. You wanted to question how the construction worked or how it had remained secret but decided against it.

            As you ascended the spiral staircase after Jin, that was where the morning took an unusual turn.

            When you stepped into the large front foyer, you were greeted by the sounds of a struggle. Instinctually, you grabbed ahold of Jin’s arm and hid behind his broad shoulders, causing him to chuckle at the cute action. Coming through the front door was a blindfolded man being dragged in by both arms by Yeonjun and another hired staff member. He was yelling all sorts of vulgarities and kicking out in many directions, like he was throwing a tantrum and not trying to escape.

            “Motherfucker! I told you to stop manhandling me like this! You know who I am? I will mess you up!”

            “Such dramatics,” Jin bemused, “He acts like he hasn’t gone through this before. Yeonjun, did he cause you a lot of trouble?”

            “Sir,” Yeonjun snapped to attention, still keeping his captive held tightly. “He tried to give us the slip. We met him at the appointed time but he tried to run. Even tried to jump out of the car.”

            Jin tsked. “Jackson, so disappointing. I thought we had a better relationship than that.”

            “Jin,” Jackson called out, head snapping in different directions to try and focus on him from behind the blindfold, “buddy, come on. I got the times mixed up and your boy jumped on me. Can we take this stupid blindfold off? I thought we’d be past this.”

            “Jackson, you are like a rash; unwanted, hard to deal with, and annoying.”

            “Damn, that hurt.” Yeonjun shoved Jackson forward, causing the man to stumble freely. He ripped the blindfold off his face and turned back to the younger, fist clenched. “Fucking punk, I’ll wipe that fucking smile off your prepubescent face!”

            “Jackson,” Jin said in a commanding tone that in any other situation would be attractive. Stop it, you mentally screamed. “Refrain from threatening my employee in my home before I let him show you why he’s one of our best. Be a good boy and mind your manners. I’ll go get Namjoon to deal with you. Yeonjun, just make sure he stays here and doesn’t try to slip something into his pocket again. I’ll be right back.” Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes as he straightened himself out. Jin turned around to you, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment, Darling. Don’t worry, Jackson is like a tiny dog; he’s all bark and nothing else, and easy to kick.” Jin’s eye flicked up towards the corner of the room with a sharp look before he turned back to you with a smile. That was weird. “Yoongi-ah should be here soon. Just hang tight and introduce yourself if you want to. And if Jackson does anything ungentlemanly, just tell Yeonjun and he’ll make him regret it.”

            Before you could beg to just run upstairs, Jin patted you on the shoulder and disappeared. You had to remember that Bangtan would never leave you in any danger since they were bound to protect you. You remembered hearing Namjoon mention Jackson’s name before and figured they wouldn’t bring someone into their home that was a danger. You looked over to Jackson. The man’s dual toned hair was messy from his struggling. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his baggy pants pocket and pushed them up onto his head, like a makeshift headband.

            Then, he noticed you. And you felt like you were a mouse caught in a snake’s site. A cool smile smoothed across his lips as he made his way over to you.

            “Well, look at you. I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s a cute, little thing like you doing here? I’m Jackson. You need anything, I’m the one who will know how and where to find it. Individual contractor. Know-it-all extraordinaire. Master of the Silver Tongues.” He offered his hand out for yours.

            “Um, hi, I’m Y/N.” You hesitated to shake his hand.

            “So, what are you? You’re too cute to be related to any of them. You look far too meek to be one of us. And I’d hope you have better taste than to be trying to date one of these losers when someone like me exists. I can tell you, you can do better. I’ve known these guys for a long time. Trust me, they’ve got odd taste that would disagree with such a cute mouse like you.”

            You retracted your hand. Jackson started to circle you, eyeing you up and down. It wasn’t threatening but you kept your eyes on him. Yeonjun gave you a look but you waved him off for the moment. You could handle yourself.

            “I’m a nurse. I’m assisting them after an incident.”

            “Ooh a nurse? What luck, I’m in need of some attention after all that rough housing.” He winked. “Oh, shit, wait, you’re the one that ran into the gun fight? And took out one of the Royal’s guys? I heard he’s still recovering from severe concussion. Mad respect, sweetheart.”

            “How do you know about that?”

            “I make it my business to know things. That’s how I make a living. And why I’m in such demand. Word of what you did has made its rounds through many circuits. Though, I’ll be honest, I’d never be able to put your face to it. And that’s a good thing in this world. Though, if you want to be extra safe from the bad guys, you may want to reconsider who you’re staying with.”

             “What do you mean by that?” You turned to follow his eyes as he kept circling you. “Bangtan seems to be taking good care of me. And I don’t mean anything by this, but I haven’t heard anything about you until now.”

            “Isn’t that the point? I’m good at staying secret, keeping things secret. And they’re so high profile, it would be easy to find you if they slipped up. There are some things that can’t be bought from me. Like a cute, little mouse. And if I wanted to keep someone safe, I’d make sure no one ever found them. Especially, if they are as interesting as you.”

            “I’m interesting?”

            “How could you not be? You’re so innocent, so different from all the other people I’ve ever met. You just want to help, didn’t know what you were running into. And now you’re stuck, hiding from the mean world that is trying to punish your good deed. I mean, I’ve been their friend for years and I can’t say I’d run into a fight with Choi to save someone he’s trying to kill. So yeah, you’re the most interesting person in the world. And I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime to prove I’m a better waste of your time.”

            “And what makes you think I’d be okay with that?”

            “Well, I can give you a hundred reasons to leave these losers behind.” He stopped circling and leaned in so his nose was only a breath away from yours. “But I’m the only one that you need.”

            Unbeknownst to Jackson, Yoongi had appeared at the top of the staircase as Jackson started circling you. He watched the interaction with a scowl on his face. He descended the stairs with a ghostly quiet until he was right behind the rogue. You noticed him as Jackson had stopped to lean towards you and your breath caught in your throat. He looked mad, a fierce protectiveness was present in his dark eyes. He appeared at the right moment. Then, you realized. Yoongi had cameras in the Magic shop, he had mentioned it. And the look Jin had given to the wall that you didn’t understand must have been to one of Yoongi’s cameras that he was watching for when you had arrived as he had done before. They were still watching out for you. He stood so close to Jackson that you wondered how the other hadn’t sensed him yet, his face right next to his shoulder and gaze boring a hole in Jackson’s head. Jackson noticed that you were no longer paying him the attention he wanted and turned his eyes towards the directions yours were on. And he jumped as if he had just been electrocuted, putting some distance between him and the death glare he was receiving. 

            “Fucking hell, you bastard! Put a bell on your fucking neck! Damn, you scared the shit out of me!”

            “Good,” Yoongi said as he kept his eyes trained on Jackson. “Leave her alone, Jackson. She’s got enough problems without you trying to weasel your way into her bed.”

            “You wound me, Suga. I was just introducing myself to the lucky lady who is now one of the most famous women in our field.”

            “I said,” he took a step closer to him, and despite his arm still in a sling, he looked as if he was about to use it on Jackson, “leave her alone.”

            “Wow, back down, tiger. Sheesh, didn’t think you’d be so concerned about someone like her. Don’t you have your hands full already? Or are you just greedy? Or are you guys taking turns?”

            “Jackson!”

            Namjoon’s voice echoed against the walls. You looked up to the second floor where RM was leaning on the banister overlooking the foyer with Jin by his side glaring down at Jackson. RM looked as annoyed as his voice let on. He was all business with no sign of the calm Namjoon you had been seeing around the Magic Shop. With a power that befitted the Leader of Bangtan, he signaled for Suga to stand down and motioned for Jackson to follow him. With a final look and wink from Jackson to you, he flipped Yoongi off and made for the stairs. Suga, silently, watched him go, making mental notes for the future before he reached back and took your hand in his. You jumped, slightly. He hadn’t been physical with you like the others had, holding your hands, giving you a hug or playful shove. There was always a bit of distance, aside from the medical side of things.

            “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”

            He had led you upstairs, asking if you were alright. While Jackson was a lot, it wasn’t something you couldn’t have handled. But you thanked him anyways for stepping in. It felt nice to have someone be so protective of you, something you weren’t so used to. He started leading you up towards the direction of the Genius Lab, where he insisted you stay until Jackson was gone, since it was secure and private, instead of the normal spaces you tended to occupy. Thankfully, the physical therapy you needed to do with Yoongi didn’t require much space and you carried all the equipment you needed in your bag. You figured Yoongi was not a fan of Jackson normally, remembering the disdain in his voice when Joon had mentioned him back at the hospital before. You were sure that Jackson’s display back in the foyer only made that worse and he wanted to keep an eye on when he left.

            As you made it to the floor, Yoongi stopped. “I almost forgot. I need to check on something real quick. Can you remember how to get to the Genius Lab?”

            “I think so. Do you need help?”

            “No. I just need to check on Jimin. I won’t be long.”

            “Is he alright? Is he still not feeling well? I can take a look if you need me to. That’s kind of my whole thing.”

            He gave your hand a squeeze as a little chuckle sat in his throat. “No, it’s nothing you need to worry about right now. He’s coming down with something but is putting off taking his medicine as long as he can. He’s being stubborn. Gets it from me, probably. I’m just making sure he’s still in his room resting. I’ll only be a moment. I promise. Here, this is my key to the Lab. Let yourself in and lock it. I use my code on the door. Not that I think Jackson will know where my office is but just to be safe.”

            Some part of you hated when he let go of your hand to head down the other side of the hall. You had to take a few breaths to let your professional masks fall back into place. You wished your emotions would settle. But being around someone as cute and protective had you feeling a certain way. A way which, you reminded yourself, you shouldn’t be feeling. You were hired to help him heal, not to let a crush develop. You really needed to get a grip. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you made your way down the hall.

            However, after a few steps and turns, you had lied when you thought you could find the Genius Lab on your own. The only places you knew how to get to without much assistance was the kitchen, gym, and the family room. You had only been to the Genuis Lab once and you racked your brain for any distinguishing details that would help you find it again. What picture was near the door? What color was the door? Was the one with frosted glass or was that Taehyung’s art studio? You could just stand still and wait for Yoongi to come back and find you. Or you could text him that you were going to back to the foyer. Or text one of the others for help? Joon was busy with Jackson, and you weren’t sure where Jin went after that. Jimin, of course, was sick and shouldn’t be disturbed. And you wanted Yoongi to focus on Jimin and not you getting lost. You sent a text to Taehyung, hoping he wasn’t too busy to help you with what he was up to in town. You walked further down the hall only to stop and turn around after not recognizing anything.

            Wait, was this the same place you had started? Why must this place be so confusing?

            Your phone buzzed. You looked down at Taehyung’s text.

      TaeTae: I really got to make you a map LOL.

       TaeTae: Do you remember how to find the stairs? Get back there and look for your favorite painting of mine. The G.L is two doors down from that.

       TaeTae: If you can’t find it, I’m sure he’ll find you with the cameras. Sorry, I’m at a meeting right now.

            You could do this. Just find the stairs. Though that was easier said than done now that you had gotten all turned around. You’re sure Taehyung would make a joke out of this if you were ever found. After another turn, you did see a picture that seemed familiar and went down that direction. As you kept walking, you started to hear voices. At least that was a start. Once you found the source, you could orient yourself or ask for help. You followed the voices, and as they got louder, you recognized RM’s tone and regretted your discussion, not wanting to interrupt. That, and you were sure Yoongi didn’t want you near Jackson again so soon. But as you were about to turn back, their conversation caught your attention.

            “Haven’t I been super helpful to ya’ll? Who was the one who gave you that info about the Royals showing up?”

            “You, also, neglected to tell us that Choi was going to be there. And that is how Suga got hurt.”

            “An oversight. That must have changed at the last minute. I can’t be a mind reader.”

            “Even though you market yourself as one?”

            “Ok, true. But you of all people should know that they don’t do what they say. Regardless, I told you about the Ateez pirates. I said they were up to something interesting. You should trust me by now. I got the information. I may be an independent player in this game, but I like you guys. That’s why I keep my ears open for you. And, I haven’t spilled anything of yours.”

            “That’s because I don’t let you get anything worth spilling.”

            “Ouch, you wound me, bro. I thought we were closer than that.”

            Before you could help yourself, you found yourself stopped outside of Namjoon’s office. The door was barely cracked, but enough for you to see a bit inside. Namjoon’s office was much different from Yoongi’s; it was a large room with warm hardwood against velvety walls that declared power, with bookcases lining the grand walls. Thick hard-covered books filled the shelves like an extensive library. Seated at an opulent and ornate desk in a high wing backed chair was RM, his fingers threaded together and pressed against his lips as he peered sharply at Jackson. Jackson sat relaxed in a smaller, less comfortable chair. They were bathed in the crackling light of a roaring fire from the Victorian style fireplace that sat across from them. This was what you expected of a Mafia leader.

            “I don’t appreciate you making my second so upset. He’s supposed to be recovering. Something he wouldn’t have to be doing had you had better information. Maybe I should start going to someone else.”

            Jackson scuffed. “As if anyone could do what I do. Besides, I feel like you would have done it by now if there was anyone else. And if that asshole wasn’t so easily riled up he would be fine. I was just saying ‘hello’ to her. And trying to figure her out. She’s quite a surprise Joon.”

            “We are trying to keep her safe. That includes from you, Jackson. She’s a civilian who got caught up in the worst way. We just got her to relax around us. I’d thank you to not undo what I’ve been working hard to do.”

            “I hear you. Glad you took my advice to just go with it. I told you nothing bad would happen. I mean, what did you just say? ‘She’s a civilian’. I truly doubted she would be any problems.”

            “No thanks to you.” Joon leaned further in his chair, his dragon eyes glowing in the fire light. “I’ve been patient, Jackson. More than I should be given what I am dealing with here. Now, you are going to tell me what I asked you to find out for me before I let Suga do what he wanted to do.”

            “Damn, for someone who said it’s all business, you’re really pushing it here.”

            “Jackson,” you could tell that Namjoon’s patience was wearing thin. What was he so determined to know? Was it something to do with Choi or the Royals?

            “Man, look. I can find information about anyone. With just their name, I can tell you if they had late fees from their elementary school library or how many days their mother spent in the hospital recovering from birth.”   

            “And yet, it has taken you over a week to get back to me. Either you are slipping or you are full of shit.”

            “Or you’re dealing with a ghost.” Jackson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “Everything I found fits on two pages of this little flip pad. Even the most basic civilian fills half of the pages. But this Y/N girl is either that most boring person in the entire world or she’s a ghost.”

            Wait, he was here about you? Namjoon was looking for information about you? You thought you had been very open with them about anything they had asked you. He had asked you to trust him, but he didn’t trust you. He had hired Jackson to dig up anything on you that he could. He was nervous when you had first come to the Magic Shop but you thought you had worked past that. Hadn’t the time they had spent with you beforehand been enough to prove that you meant no harm to them or else why would he ask you to come here? You knew you shouldn’t listen to any of this, but you couldn’t move. You sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, listening.

            “What are you talking about?”

            Jackson tossed the pad over to him to see for himself. “I mean, this girl has nothing before two years ago. All I could find is that she currently works at Central Mercy as an ER Nurse, she lives in a shitty apartment that’s overpriced for that part of town. Before that, there isn’t much. I found her college she attended for her expedited nursing degree where she got high marks. Her father worked for different police forces as a high up desk jockey, meaning she moved a lot so there isn’t much in regard to early years. But nothing else. Everything starts about two years ago. I was able to find a news article about a car accident that listed her as a passenger, so her amnesia story checks out as far as that. Can’t said I ever heard of someone using amnesia as a cover, but fuck if it wouldn’t be good. Father died and there was no mother listed on any paperwork. Father’s file is just as blank. Just he was basic cop who sat at a desk. After the accident, her only known address was some small studio in her name that was set up by the rehab she was assigned to by some Doctor Sung, who died a year after from a heart attack. Found all his files but it’s nothing interesting. She did some reception job for a clinic before she came here that was a nonprofit for student nurses and that had nothing useful other than what I already had. But that’s all. No ties anywhere, no real records until recently. Either she’s got the most boring, nonspecial life I’ve ever seen, or her life’s been invented by some crazy mastermind. And I’m leaning towards the first one, man. This girl is boring and is nothing in the grand scheme of things. And that’s the truth. The most interesting thing was meeting you guys. She’s harmless. She’s no threat to anyone except maybe herself with that stupid heroic shit. So, you worried for nothing. Your family is safe, just like I said it would be.”

            “How can that be all?” Namjoon seemed disappointed. “You’re telling me that there was no other information? How can someone’s life just go back two years? You must have missed something.”

            “I don’t miss shit. Listen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but that’s all there is. Her old man must have been from some off the grid town beforehand and didn’t leave footprints. She’s a nobody. She’s barely worth the time I spent looking for her.  So, stop worrying about her like she’s gonna turn into some problem. And if she does, you can kill her easily enough. Hell, there are seven of you, should be easy.”

            You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Namjoon’s eyes snapped towards the door, knowing full well that he had been caught. He rose from the desk and crossed the room, opening the door to find you rooted in place against the wall, eyes cast down with tears welling in the corners. It wasn’t just from the threat of being killed by the people you were supposed to trust, or the harsh words that Jackson had said about you. But it was the fact that you weren’t trusted. You were not granted the same thing he had begged you to do for them. And that hurt just as much.

            “Oh shit,” Jackson said with a hint of glee. “Little mouse likes to sneak around, huh? I can see why you didn’t want to trust her. Seems like she’ll get herself killed before too long.”

            “Jackson,” RM roared causing you to shrink further into yourself and the tears to flow freely. Namjoon looked down at you, instantly regretting his tone. He had messed up and he knew that. Moving carefully, he held his hand out to you in a silent plea to take it. Feeling like there was no other choice, you let him pull you up to your feet and into his office. Daring to look at his face, you didn’t see anger or any dangerous threat that you feared for your eavesdropping. You saw remorse and sympathy. He led you towards the fireplace where there were two large armchairs facing each other with a side table full of half-read books. He motioned you to sit before he turned back to Jackson. He took out his phone and sent a quick message. Within a moment, Yeonjun appeared in the door. “That’s enough, Jackson. Thank you for your help. But I need to talk to Y/N. Yeonjun will take you back where he found you. You know the drill.”

            “Wow, fastest visit ever. Am I at least getting paid?” Namjoon shot him a look that made him jump and scurry over to the door. “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. I’m sure he isn’t going to kill you. Let me know if you want to take me up on my offer.”

            Yeonjun grabbed Jackson by the collar and dragged him out, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with Namjoon and the crackling fire. You thought back to when he had saved you when Choi had you cornered in the hospital hall, how good natured he had been with you, how he had been so open with you before he even knew anything more about you. He had been the one pushing for you to trust them and be comfortable with them. He had wanted you to come to the Magic Shop, was planning on telling you before he got busy. But was it all a ruse to get you to follow along? A handkerchief was pushed into your hands and Joon took a seat in the opposite armchair.

            “Y/N, I’m sorry you heard that.” He was sorry? Was he going to reprimand you for eavesdropping? Or tell you that all this was a farce that he was going to drop and forget this life debt he kept pushing? “I was hoping to have talked to him before you ever got here. Just for some extra assurance before we moved forward. I didn’t want you to ever hear that. Jackson can say things harsher than he means. I asked him to do a more detailed background check than I had already done, just to ensure I had all the facts.” He flinched when your breath hitch as more tears fell. He started to reach out his hand to try and comfort you but thought better of it. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just needed to be completely sure that we were all going to be safe.”

  ��         “I wouldn’t have hurt any of you. I can barely handle myself, let alone do anything to you all,” you cried. “Why would I put myself in this situation? I tried to get away from all of this but you kept me here. I would have told you all of that stuff. It’s all I know about myself since the accident. I have nothing to hide from anyone. I promise I have only told you the truth.”

            “I know you have. I’m sure you would have told me everything freely. I fucked up. I can’t say I’m sorry enough.”

            “Was he right? Are you going to kill me? Because I seem like a made-up person? Because I don’t have a past?”

            “No!” Namjoon rose from his seat and knelt down in front of you, finding your eyes and begging for your attention. “I would never do that. I promised to protect you. And I would do that whether you owed us a life debt or not. This life I’ve been living for the past twelve years has made me question so much about people. I’ve been lied to so many times that it fucks up your mind. Bangtan is my family and it’s my responsibility to protect them. When I met you, I instantly felt like I could trust you. I could see that you were a good person. But we had been fooled by someone we thought we could instantly trust before and I got nervous. But the more we spent with you, I knew it was different. But there was this little part of me that still worried. So, I looked into you after that first day. That’s why I introduced us as Bangtan to you. The others agreed because they saw what I saw in you. We've all been jaded by this life but something in you broke through all of our hesitations. We all think you are a good person and that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us. Once we got you to see what we really were, I thought this would be easier on all fronts.”

            “You asked me to trust you but you couldn’t do the same for me?”

            “I know. It’s been so long since I could really trust someone. Look at Jackson. Okay, bad example. But I’ve known Jackson almost as long as I’ve known the others. But I still need to keep him at arm’s length or watch what I say around him. It’s different with you. I want to trust you, I do. I just needed to be extra sure that I was doing the right thing. I truly mean that.”

            You sat in silence for a long while as your breath evened out and your tears ceased. You could understand his hesitation. How could he be sure that you weren’t lying? It made sense, but hearing Jackson’s words, imagining that’s how they saw you, it was hard. But you had been so back and forth with their trust, too.

            “I really wish we could just start over.”

 “What do you want to know?” You took a deep breath and leaned back into the armchair. “What else do you need to hear? You want to be sure? Ask away. I only know so much. You guys have asked me to trust you and you told me things that would be helpful. I will try to do the same so we can share a common ground. Maybe one day I’ll know more and I can tell you more. But I can tell you what I can.”

            “It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t need to do that. I trust you.” He stood up and moved towards his desk. But you grabbed his hand, steeling yourself to open up as much as you could. He could sense your determination and returned to the armchair. “Just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

            “I never really talk about this. It’s hard to talk about. But I can confirm that what Jackson said was all true. It’s actually pretty much all I know for myself. My first actual memory is waking up in a small hospital room in so much pain. There was a man sitting next to me that I didn’t remember. He was my friend, he showed me pictures of us at school. His name was Daniel. I don’t know his last name, I never asked or remembered it. He’s the one who told me about the accident. My father’s car was hit from the side and flipped. He didn’t make it. Daniel spent weeks by my side as I recovered. Dr. Sung was this older doctor who watched over me and helped me recover. Once I was moved to his rehab, Dr. Sung prescribed me all these different treatments but my memories never came back. Daniel brought me my old schoolwork, my old journals, anything that could help me find myself. But there wasn’t much. Jackson said something about us moving a lot. After a year, I could recall little things about places I believe I lived. But there was never anything concrete. No friends or family reached out. Daniel told me that it was just me and dad. He had never heard us talk about anyone else. I guess we didn’t stay long in places. After I was released from the rehab, Daniel and I moved into this small apartment that was far away from everything. The rehab set it up to help me adjust to the world. But I was like a zombie, depressed, broken. After six months, I started trying to get better, start over. Daniel and I started dating, I found a job that was walking distance from my place. All my medical training came back over time. Just not anything else. And that was my life for almost two years. But, almost five months ago, Daniel and I split up and I came to Central to get away from all the unpleasantness. I’d prefer not to go into that if that’s alright. We weren’t good together anymore. Since I’ve been away, I’ve started remembering little flashes of things that don’t make a lot of sense. Amber thinks it’s because I’m away from the trauma. I don’t even know if I want to remember anymore. But if I remember anything more, I promise I’ll tell you once I figure it all out.”

            Namjoon reached out and took your hand. “It’s okay. Thank you for sharing that with me. I promise to be more upfront about any questions I have. I trust you.”

            “I trust you, too.”

[intplayboy]

TOUCH - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X F! READER [ THREE ]

if you want to be part of the tag list, complete the form.

summary: jin, with the assistance of 007 (you), performs a quick operation on the maknae as a result of his injury. jungkook tries to thank you, while jin spends some time to learn more about you better. yoongi gets frustrated with his members and takes it out on you.

pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader

genre: mafia au | moderate? angst | romance | sci-fi | action | fluff

warnings: implied drugging, mentions torture (no gore tho), medical extraction, gunshot wound, blood, violence, swearing. more fluff in this chapter! but also unfortunately yoongi being more of an asshole a little bit.

word count: 12,722 *prewritten & new chap but written longer, as an apology for the lateness :')*

also sorry i didn't post on the last two fridays, i had family from the philippines and then new year plans. anyways, better later than never, am i right? heheh... enjoy <3

ps. the second half of this isn't proofread 😭

masterpost | two | four

tag list: @juju-227592, @drunkzseok, @yourgirlcin, @babybunli, @xanny91, @bibetsa, @borahae-reads, @lalavione1309, @luvsbngtn, @tetehearts, @singukieee, @serendididy, @quixoticbittersweet, @iriaachan, @jksisbunntboy, @missseoulite, @xjiminsthighsx, @just-vaaalll, @chim-possible, @passionandsuga, @deadrose287, @kalala22, @bangtanxberm, @scuzmunkie, @sunoosult, @germ2001, @lovelgirl22, @thvkives, @kourtney-fairy-blog, @linlinlily, @getinthetardissammy-sh, @prakriti-j, @paramedicnerd004, @cuteipat, @iamkookiesforyou, @queen-in-the-shadows, @shadowyjellyfishfest, @fakedanger, @reallysparklychaos, @ghostlyworld, @whipwhoops, @knjsbae, @peebsvic, @bfxnmcgjc, @ghostkat23, @mpc1324, @yoongissmalltoe, @prettyling, @luna-astro, @hannahdinse8, @twentyninetyseven, @cryingpages, @ut-dixisti (the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The maknae lies on his bed, as the others surround him with worried expressions. Their butler and Jin tend to him. "How's he hyung?"

"He didn't lose too much blood since the bullet is lodged in him. But we'll have to extract it or else it'll become infected and he won't heal properly." Jin explained.

The eldest brother casts a glance at his younger brother's pale face. "Jungkook, the bullet is stuck; we'll have to get it out. And it will hurt... a lot."

He blinks open his eyes, faintly nodding. "O-okay."

Hoseok enters the room with a metal cart and approaches Jin and Sun-woo from behind. "I brought the tools."

"Thanks."

Then a tiny figure emerged from the doorway. "I heard, hurt bad."

All eight pairs of eyes turned to gaze at you, but you avoided eye contact. "I want to help him."

"C-can I help him?" You asked softly.

Jin redirects his attention to Jungkook, who meets his stare and nods. "L-let her."

"Okay, come here. " Jin directs you, prompting you to move your feet toward the three men. "Get on the bed on the opposite side of him."

You climb onto the bed and sit next to the injured boy. You chew on your lip as you look at him, the sense of his injury being much stronger to you.

Jin then pressed the silvery blade against Jungkook's wound and gently slid it across, while you wrap your hands around Jungkook, and your eyes and the veins on your hands begin to illuminate purple.

When Sun-woo turns around to deliver Jin the next tool, his attention is drawn to you and your glowing appearance, causing him to yelp and drop the tool in surprise. "Oh goodness! That startled me."

"Yeah, that'll be with us for god knows how long, so get used to it." Yoongi scowls and Sun-woo nods slowly.

As Jin drags the blade against Jungkook, the younger groans and stiffens in pain, but thanks to your abilities, Jungkook gradually relaxes and falls quiet.

Jin continues to cut him open until eventually lifting the blade, causing you to let out a short, relieved gasp.

Jin sneaks a glimpse at you before checking on his injured dongsaeng. "How do you feel Kookie?"

"I-I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore, I don't feel anything. You can continue." He affirms.

"Okay, well, the bleeding is stable, and I will now extract the bullet, alright?" Jin makes an announcement, to which Jungkook nods.

Jin extended his other free hand behind him, signaling their butler to give out the next tool, a forceps. He quickly adjusted the metal tool in his hand and hovered it over the bullet wound once he could feel it in his hand.

He looks into the wound again, properly locating the bullet before inserting the tool into the open wound. He fishes for the bullet steadily but effectively, and once he clamps on to it, he expertly wiggles it upwards to remove it.

The soft audible whimpers coming from your petite form, however, do not go unnoticed by Jin and Jungkook, undoubtedly because they are the closest to you.

Still, Jin focused on extracting the bullet diligently, and once it emerges from the open wound, he instantly places it in the surgical metal basin beside him.

"All done." He begins removing his bloody gloves. "You can heal him now."

You flash Jin a brief glance before gently placing both of your hands above the wound. And, once again, not only do the veins on your hands glow but so do the veins around Jungkook's wound.

Meanwhile, Sun-woo marvels as you miraculously heal his youngest boss. "Amazing..."

You quickly retracted your hands while looking at Jungkook after the wound healed. "A-are you okay?"

The corners of the maknae's lips curved up slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on you. "Yes, thanks."

For what seemed like hours in their eyes, a sudden loud sigh interrupts their trance. "How come you didn't say anything, Jungkook?"

The addressed man swiveled his head, his eyes settled on his concerned leader. "I didn't want to worry you guys, and I figured I could treat it myself."

"If only the bullet wasn't stuck in there." He mutters quietly, but the oldest manages to hear him.

"You really think you could properly treat that wound yourself, are you crazy?" Jin exclaimed.

He puts his hands up defensively. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry, I will make sure to tell you guys next time. Happy?"

While the boys cleaned up, you returned to your room as told and awaited further instructions.

Your head sprang up when you heard a knock at the door a little while later. You watch as a figure enters the room; it was the same broad-shouldered man who had tended to their youngest member and politely conversed with you the day before.

As he approaches you, he gives a faint smile. "Hi, I just wanted to come in here and thank you for helping Jungkook."

"Y-you welcome." You answer with your small voice.

He chuckles softly when the memory of your whimpering came to him. "By the way, I meant to ask you, why were you whimpering earlier?"

You give him a quizzical look, urging Jin to continue with his explanation. "You were making these sounds with your mouth while taking Jungkook's pain and healing him. It sounded like whimpering."

You pause for a few seconds. "Oh, y-your pain—" As you try to explain, you motion to him and then to yourself. "My pain."

The lens spectacle-wearing man scrunches his brows. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"I thought you already feel when someone is—" A voice disrupted him before he could complete his sentence. "Hyung! Are you making dinner tonight?"

Jin lets out an exasperated groan. "Of course!"

He sighed heavily, knowing he'd have to put that subject of discussion on hold for the time being. He then returns his attention to you."I know you've been cooped up in this boring room for hours, so would you like to join me in making dinner for everyone?"

"Y-you asking me?"

He nods. "Yeah, it'll be fun... I think?"

"Fun? What's fun?" You sway your head.

He rubs the back of his head, he did not expect that. "It's like— something you find enjoyable, yes. Something you'll like doing."

"Do you understand?"

"Enjoyable... Oh! Enjoyable, yes." You grin with your lips, exposing your adorable bread cheeks and deep dimples akin to Namjoon's.

That's cute. Wait what? What are you saying Jin? "Well, then, shall we go down?"

He offers his hand to you, which you immediately wrap your own around. He takes your hand in his and gently tugs you out of your bedroom.

When the two of you eventually made it into the kitchen, Jin automatically headed to where the apron with the white and blue stripes hung on a cabinet door. You, on the other hand, stayed still as the expert hacker moved about the kitchen retrieving all of the ingredients.

He didn't see you still awkwardly standing in the center of the kitchen until all the veggies and spices were spread out on the large island table. "O-oh sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I plan to make japchae and kimchi quesadillas. You can help by pouring all these contents for the quesadillas into the bowl like this." He demonstrates with empty dishes, making sure you pay attention. "Then mix it with the ground beef— Does this look easy enough?"

You hum and position yourself in front of the contents you were presented with. Jin attentively monitors you for a moment, ensuring you perform your job correctly. When he's satisfied, he turns around and starts chopping the veggies for the japchae.

He skillfully cuts and slices all of the peppers, mushrooms, spinach, and carrot. The same small voice rang out just as he was about to put a pot on the burner. "I-I finished."

He turns his head, and he finds the sight amusing. Splattered stains on his dongsaeng's sweatshirt and your hands drenched in the mixed spices and oil from the sauce that drips down your arms, staining the cuffs of her sleeves.

He chuckles lightly at your disarray. "Ah you're so clueless, but you're a cute kind of clueless."

As he approaches you with a smile, you pucker your lips in bewilderment. "Let me help you here."

He pulls a clean rag from the oven handle and drags her hands towards him. You squeak quietly at his abrupt actions, remembering Yoongi cleaning the food crumbs off your hands before. So you let him do what he did.

He adds as Jin keeps wiping your hands. "You should've rolled up your sleeves before mixing the ingredients together."

"It's okay, you didn't even know. Next time." He finally finishes drying your hands and lifts his eyes to meet your innocent, questioning gaze.

They exchanged stares for who knows how long until Jin noticed a smear of soy sauce on your cheek. His eyes narrowed on the spot, and his hand moved to your cheek without thinking as he came closer to your face. "You have something on your cheek."

You remained still, the close proximity quickening your heartbeat. Were you feeling fear, like your had with the angry man on the road? No. Then what was so different about how you felt when Jin is just inches from your face? That, you did not entirely understand.

This feeling of a new sort of pulse beating, the people, and even the environment itself were all foreign to you. Being outside the concrete walls that had imprisoned you had been a dream in the past, but it was now your new reality. You were finally experiencing it. Perhaps in an extremely bizarre way, as most people would put it, but anything had to be better than looking at those concrete walls and feeling trapped by your own father, right?

Jin came to a stop so near to your face that you could feel his breath tickling your nose. With his fingers hovering over your cheek, he wiped the sauce off your smooth skin with his thumb.

As he withdraws, a smirk appears on his face. "There you go, all done."

"Your hands could be sticky as well, so go wash your hands and we'll continue from here." You nod once again and do what you’re directed.

And for the remainder of the cooking time, you lingered behind Jin, a curious expression on your face, watching him work earnestly.

Jin eventually finishes their food after only an hour and a half. "Ya! I need one of you to help me in bringing out the food!"

Several footsteps can be heard before one individual enters from the kitchen entryway. "I'll help you hyung."

Jungkook walks over to the large island table and carries the other dish that his hyung had cooked. The meal is brought to their dining table by the two men. "Hey, erm, 007...?"

You glance up at Jin when you hear your name and wait for him to continue. "Could you please bring some plates and chopsticks?"

"Okay." You squeaked.

You looked inside the cupboards Jin had been rummaging through while cooking, searching for those white ceramic round circle plates. As you scanned the cupboard, you spotted the stacked plates. You stretched, nearly reaching for the plates with her fingertips.

As you ostensibly struggles to get the plates yourself, she huffs. After a prolonged strain, you felt your fingertips slightly contact the ceramics and instinctively sought to lean to get a proper grip. You were so focused on retrieving those dishes that you didn't notice the tall figure who walked back into the kitchen. "Ya, what are you doing?"

You flinch at his unexpected presence, startling you, and the plate you barely clutched slips from your loosened hands and smashes on the floor with a loud clatter. You released a small gasp, clearly alarmed by the abrupt predicament.

The said person scrambles forward instantly. "Ya, are you okay?!"

And as soon as you saw him, you identified the familiar face of the man you met in the alleyway who protected you without hesitation. "That was so sudden, I'm sorry."

He says tearing you out of you short daze, gazing at him a little stunned. "It's okay, it's my fault, I clean."

You then lowered your eyes, eventually frowning at the mess you had created. You crouched above the shattered fragments of the once-round porcelain dish without thinking. Upon seeing this, Jungkook scurried to your aid, shaking his head. "No- It's alright. I came up behind you without warning."

"I'll clean it up, you'll only hurt yourself—" The sound of glass thudding and a small yelp alerted him, and he noticed blood seeping out of your palm. "See, I told you. Let me do it."

"Let's wrap this up first." He grabs you injured hand, but you pull it back, shaking your head.

"I heal, remember?" Your eyes then turned purple, and the cut on your palm gradually closed, reverting your hand to normal.

Jungkook watches you as you heal yourself in front of him. That's right, I suppose that'll be the new normal now that she's here. Still, he will always remain awestruck by your abilities, although he doesn't look like he is. "Well, even if you can self-heal, that doesn't mean you put yourself in harm's way all the time."

"Let's get you off the floor for now." He wraps his arms around your slender frame and effortlessly scoops you up, eliciting a subtle squeal of surprise from you.

He then places you on the long island table and sweeps the broken ceramic off the floor. When he's finished, he approaches you again. "You know, there's no shame in asking for help. Especially if it keeps you away from harm's way."

You nod slowly, and Jungkook smirks. "Normally, I wouldn't be so courteous to a stranger I'd only met two days before. But you're different, which I like."

"You also helped me, so I guess my behavior right now is a way of expressing thank you for me." He explains himself sheepishly.

Why was he explaining so sheepishly? It wasn't like he was attempting to declare his love to his crush or ask a girl to a school dance. So why does the cute clueless stranger he encountered on the road who can magically heal people make him feel that way when he speaks to her? It seems like such a complicated question to answer.

When you returned his stare, you both fell quiet, unsure what to say next. After what seemed like many minutes of silence, Jungkook couldn't stand it any longer and cleared his throat. "I'll just grab the plates and you can grab the chopsticks."

"Does that sound good?"

You nod and look down from the counter as if you’re uncertain how you’ll get down from there. This does not go missed by him, and he almost laughs at the sight of your innocent concentrated face trying to figure out how to get off.

Without warning, he puts his hands around your waist, lifts you, and lowers you to the floor. "There you go."

"Let's join the rest for dinner, I'm sure we had them waiting quite long enough."

For the following days, Namjoon summoned the gang for another brief meeting, this time to discuss future plans regarding the allegedly stolen medical equipment and the gang that was transporting it. Everyone agreed that it was necessary to begin investigating the truth behind the smuggling business that had been operating under their noses for nearly two decades.

So, since then, some members have kept holed up in the house, going through recent and archived files and phoning contacts, while others have gone in and out meeting other different 'acquaintances' who prefer the traditional way of discreet information dissemination. However, as the days turned into weeks, the group failed to find even a single lead. File after file, contact after contact, it seems that the so-called "smuggling firm" didn't exist.

No one had the slightest knowledge about it not even the whereabouts of that unidentified gang. And this increased Bangtan's suspicions. They all inherently congregated in the living room at the end of the day and sat drained along the couches.

Yoongi rubs his eyes, almost laughing. "This is like chasing after a ghost."

"What are we even doing?"

"Whoever put in this much effort to keep this thing running in such secrecy for so long must be in a higher status. So the real question is, what are they doing with all of these packages of supplies that would force them to conceal it so desperately?" Jin's brows furrows.

Jungkook cocks his brow while staring down. "Something illegal— extremely illegal."

"But we do illegal shit almost everyday." Taehyung responds bluntly.

The others threw him a deadpan expression. "What? It's true!"

Namjoon sighs. "But, Jungkook and Jin are right." He thinks for a moment. "Jin, do you think you could analyze the supplies within the cargo? Maybe we can start speculating from there once we understand exactly what's in there."

The eldest nods. "Yeah, I can do that. But as I said before with the whole military mainframe hacking, this will also take time."

"And, as I have mentioned, it's fine; what matters is that we get to the bottom of this."

"Should we ask our wonderful guest again?" Jimin advises as he cracks his knuckles.

Taehyung sighs. "That little shit refuses to speak. We've gone at him for hours on end."

"And at this point, he's pissed me."

Yoongi scoffs. "Maybe you need to try a different tactic—"

"What kind of tactic?" Taehyung huffs.

"The Oranyan tactic." He replies.

Jimin rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, good luck trying to get something out of him."

"Watch me." He flashes a sly grin.

With that, Yoongi heads to the basement himself, walking into the dim gray room. There, the surviving member of the cargo delivery they interfered in is now bound to a chair, blood trickling down his nose and purple bruising on his right eye and cheekbones. His head hangs as he was rendered unconscious by the constant pain from yesterday afternoon.

Yoongi approaches the poor man, kicking his foot, awakening him. "Ya, wake up dipshit."

The man groans, groggily lifting his head up. His swollen eyes fluttered open, finally landing on the master manipulator himself. He visibly gulps, this doesn't go missed by Yoongi, making him smirk cockily.

"Good, you already know who I am. No introductions needed, I like that." He tilts his head teasingly.

"Jesus fuck- how many there are of you guys?"

"Enough." Yoongi states bluntly.

"W-what do you want? Your friends already talked to me, and I ain't telling you shit."

Oranyan chuckles humorlessly. "Well good news for you, I don't need you to be talking for while—" The man's face twitches, making him continue. "Bad news, you're going to wish you had."

Two hours later...

The beaten man is no longer restricted to the chair but is suspended from the ceiling by his wrists. Yoongi's knuckles are red from the repeated strikes, but his patience is wearing thin. That's it, he tried to be kind.

He then opens a metal drawer and pulls out a syringe. He moves back up to the man, noticing his wary eye on the needle he's holding. "Oh, you must be wondering what this is?"

"Have you heard of opioids? The drug that supposes to relieve pain... Well, with the proper hazardous amount of an extra component, like fluoroquinolone, it will have the complete opposite effect."

"What does that mean for you? This means that the pain will intensify ten times worse than the minor pain you think you can handle. And well—" His lip rolls up. "You better hope your pain tolerance is immeasurable."

Yoongi had fulfilled his goal, the terror had settled in his eyes, and he was only going to touch the tip of the iceberg for the man. This satisfies him and simply pushes him to inject the drug, forcing the unfortunate man to scream. "NO! No, please!"

Yoongi removes the syringe and replaces it in the drawer. The tormented gang member cries out and squirms in his confinement. "Don't do this please!"

The second-oldest bangtan member ignores his screams by grabbing an empty bucket, placing it in a sink, and filling it with water. When the bucket is roughly one-third full, he takes it out and returns to his subject, drenching him with water.

"What are you doing?!"

Yoongi snaps his eyes up at him. "Can't a man have his fun?"

He then takes another gadget from the metal drawer. "Did I not warn you? Now you're pleading with me to stop, and I haven't even begun."

"Let me ask you a question. Do you want me to stop?"

He reluctantly nods. "Then tell me who that shipment was for."

Silence.

"All right, you asked for it." He sighs. The electric buzzing sounds as he switches on the gadget, and he immediately pins it on the lowly gang member, causing him to scream in agony. Thank goodness for Jungkook's idea to soundproof the room.

He lowers the electric device, allowing the man to breathe deeply... "Gonna talk now?"

He simply shakes his head, causing Yoongi to sigh in disappointment, before repeating his actions.

An hour later...

Shit, he looks like he might... No, he won't, he still needs to give some information. Yoongi groans, knowing what he needs to do now, but dreads it.

But he has to do it for the sake of his family. "You're lucky, you get a break. Because I'm not done with you yet."

As a response, he receives a pained moan, which causes his eyes to roll. He finally departs the basement, passing by the living room, where Hoseok and the maknae line were sitting with instant ramen bowls in their hands.

Jimin pauses in his chewing, making eye contact with his hyung. "So, did he talk?"

Jungkook giggles, attracting Yoongi's attention. "Something funny, Jeon?"

"No, no— uh, nothing." He coughs, continuing eating his noodles.

"Well, why are you here if you're getting close?" Jimin inquired.

"Because that fucker has a low toleration, he looks like his heart is ready to quit beating if I keep going."

Hoseok's pupils dilated. "What, why? What have you been doing?"

"Didn't you hear him earlier, he say his 'oranyan tactics'?" Taehyung nudges him.

"Seriously, Yoongi what did you do?"

"I might've given him the drug." He answers haphazardly.

All four of their faces drops. "You what?!"

"But Jin hyung said-"

"I know what Jin said. But it was the only thing that triggered that prick, okay? And if it works, it works, and I will continue to do so." He cuts off Hoseok. "Now tell me where that weird chick is."

"Where she's always been... Her room." Taehyung sighs.

Yoongi left the living room and proceeded to your room without saying any more.

Before leaving your room, Jimin and Jungkook assisted in keeping you entertained by setting up your television. You were so engrossed by the moving images and characters on the TV that you hadn't noticed Yoongi enter your room after two knocks that you ignored.

He came to a stop when he saw you were too absorbed in a... children's cartoon? His brow furrows at the scene, and he clears his throat loudly, capturing your attention.

Your head swings around at him, little startled by his presence. Your doe eyes reciprocate his gaze. When your eyes connect, he can't help but look away, trying to hide the sudden warmth that has crept up on his cheeks. "H-hey."

You cock your head. "Hi..."

"I need uh- I need you to do something for me." He starts. "There is someone here who is being questioned by me. But it looks like he might pass out from all blows he got."

"I also don't want to risk him dying before I have any information from him."

You keep staring at him, urging him to continue. "What I'm trying to say is, you need to heal this guy, or whatever."

At his remarks, your brows raise. "Okay."

"He hurt really bad?"

"I guess?" He shrugs.

You then hop off the bed and stand on your own two feet. "I will heal then."

Yoongi nods, mildly stunned by your instant obedience. "G-good, follow me."

He then walks you out of your room and down the stairs, passing through the living room, where the three youngest and Hoseok still stay. "Hey cutie~! Whatcha doing out?"

Taehyung greets you with the same boxy smile he had the first time you two met.

"Following him..." While glancing at Taehyung, you point at Yoongi. "He said someone hurt really bad, so I heal."

"Oh..." His lips curled slightly downward as he turned to look at his hyung.

"You're seriously going to bring her down there?"

"Yeah, so?" The latter replies dismissively.

"Hey, this is your problem, don't drag her into this. It's your fault for using that drug on him. I'm guessing you gave him more than the proper dose." Hoseok quickly intervenes.

Yoongi huffs. "Would you all stop ganging up on me. I'm trying all I can to acquire some sort of lead and help us all."

"May I remind you all that we've been running in circles with these detective games for weeks and haven't gotten far."

Hoseok's shoulders slump, Yoongi isn't wrong. If they had any suspicions about anybody or anything, they could usually track down the person's whereabouts, associates, background, and whole past in a matter of days. But not this time; the pending investigation has been prolonged for far too long already, and it's quite eerie for them to go this far without knowing who or what is involved in this whole quandary.

"Well, just know that if Jin finds the extent of your 'interrogation,' you will bear the consequences." Jungkook breaks the tension.

One thing about Jungkook is that, despite being the youngest, the maknae of the gang, he can be pretty mature and frequently plays the part of the elder one or even the group leader when the circumstance calls for it. Perhaps it is because he tries his best to be the most level-headed member of the gang whenever there is a problem amongst the members, and the others are tremendously thankful to him for it, either indirectly or directly.

"I understand." He cuts the talk short, then turns to you, who is already staring at him, oh so innocently... "L-let's go."

You nod and continue to follow him, silently, to the interrogation basement.

When you both enter the room, your sight is drawn to the battered form of the guy that hangs from the ceiling. When you return your gaze, Yoongi turns to face you. "He's hurt really bad."

"Yep."

"Heal him, so I can question him more."

You again merely nod as you walk up to the gang member. When you come near to him, he opens his eyes and fixes them on you. You meet his glance with a blank face. "Hello."

He grimaces at you. "What do you want, bitch."

"Bitch?" Your brow furrows in perplexity.

"Yeah, you stupid bitch." He says it again, leaving you even more perplexed. "Did you come here to do your little boyfriend's dirty work?"

"Me heal you." You innocently gesture to him.

He chuckles dryly, then spits in your face. "I ain't falling for your tricks."

You take a step back from him, flinching and closing your eyes at the fluid contact. Yoongi's laughter interrupts the silence, surprising the guy who had missed Yoongi's presence. Oh, how he wishes he had noticed.

"I think you're the stupid one here." Yoongi then approaches you and hands you a white handkerchief while causing you to gaze up at him while still having the man's spit on your face. "Wipe your face with this."

"I was actually generous enough to bring her here to relieve you of your misery. But it seems that you desire to do more." He looks across at the battered prisoner.

"I-I'm sorry, I t-take it back." He splutters.

Yoongi picks up the water-filled bucket once more. "No, no, not again."

He splashes him with water before grabbing the stun baton. "I advise you turn away, kitten if you can't handle this part."

You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes the stun baton on the gang member, eliciting another agonizing cry from him. As the wailing continues, you cringe, shielding your ears.

Yoongi takes away the baton. "Who was the cargo intended for?"

"I-I can't t-tell you. T-they'll kill m-me." The man replies.

Yoongi exhales exasperatedly. "You'll die anyways if you don't tell me who that cargo was for."

The man clamps his lips together, terrified, he looks at the second-oldest member of the bangtan mafia group. "I-I c-can't."

"Then I'll continue." He then applies the stun baton to the prisoner's abdominal region.

The shrieks lasted for a bit longer, till Yoongi removed it again as the man struggled to take deep breaths. Yoongi was about to push the gadget against him again when the gang member stopped him. "Wait, wait!"

"I-I can't tell you w-who the shipment was for, b-because I don't know who it is."

"How can you negotiate a cargo agreement with someone you don't even know?" Yoongi asks, judgingly. "Are you telling me you don't know who this man is?"

He shows the image that was contained in the evidence package from their anonymous tip a few weeks ago. "Isn't this your little gang meeting up with a man who runs a medical facility?"

"Y-yes, but that wasn't who that supplies were for."

"B-but I don't make the deals, s-so I wouldn't know—" He explains.

"You're the one who does the dirty work, I know." Yoongi sighs and sets the photo down after finishing his sentence.

"But if you don't make the deals, surely you know who does." Yoongi arches his brow in expectancy.

The guy nods, gulping. "I-I do..."

"Tell me now."

Jin was on his way to find Yoongi and remind him that it was his turn to make dinner. He enters his dongsaeng's bedroom, only to be met by the void of his presence. He furrows his brows and begins searching for him throughout the mansion until he comes upon their vast gym room, which Jungkook is occupying.

He walks in, quickly drawing the maknae's attention. "Hey, hyung."

"Hey, Jungkook, I'm looking for Yoongi. It's his turn to prepare dinner. Do you know where he is?"

With the white rag in his hand, the younger pats his forehead. "Yeah, he's in the interrogation room."

Jin's brow furrows in surprise. "He's still there?" He glances at his silver wristwatch. "It's almost six, that means he's been in there for hours."

"Yeah, he claimed he was close to getting the guy to talk." He nods.

"Okay, thank you. Remember to wash up before you come for dinner." The elder pivots, about to return to the entrance.

"Yes mom." Jungkook rolls his eyes. "By the way, that girl is with Yoongi as well."

Jin comes to a halt before grabbing the door handle and turning to face him. "The girl? She's in the interrogation room with Yoongi?"

"Yeah, he said he needed her before the guy passed out on him." Jungkook answers without making eye contact as he resumes his workout on the bench.

Jin pauses for a moment. "Why would— Oh, my god, that little... I'll go, see you later, Kook."

The latter simply grunts in response, as Jin walked out of the gym to the basement interrogation room.

As he descends the stairs, he strains his ears to hear something, anything, despite knowing that the room had been soundproofed courtesy of Jungkook's big brain.

He approaches the door and swings it open. "Min Yoongi, what do you think you—"

Jin stop mid-sentence as he registered the scene in front of him. Yoongi is stuck, staring at you with uncertainty as to what to do about the state you're in.

Earlier, before Jin arrived, the gang member finally told Yoongi what he needed to know, and everything he did know. Yoongi then ordered you to heal him in order to torture him again as retribution for the man's delay in providing the information and send a message to that gang. One that tells them explicitly that Bangtan always gets what they want and that no one can or will stop them from achieving their objective; if they do so, they should count themselves unlucky.

Of course, he didn't tell you that. You knew and were trained not to question commands, only to obey them. So you complied with his demands, but both of you didn't anticipate how severe the healing process would be on you, until now.

Like the previous times, your veins from your fingers to your elbow glow purple and match the veins of the man you are holding as your hands are gently squeezing his sides.

The pain was first somewhat more than you could handle, but the more you lingered with the man, the worse it became. You did your best to prevent the cries and whimpers that threatened to spill from your mouth. No, you can't take your hands off him just yet; he's not completely healed, and his pain hasn't gone away, you thought.

Back at the facility where you escaped, if the healing procedure wasn't fully completed and the subject's pain wasn't properly drained out, you were met with consequences. Consequences that ensured you never made the same mistake twice. You want to take your hands off the man, but if you do, you could suffer the same repercussions as before, which you don't want more than anything.

You don't notice it at first, but as the pain transferring grows increasingly intense, your veins and eyes begin to shine brighter and your head rolls back. You whimper softly as you take more, not only feeling the scorching pain in your abdomen but also in your head. You're not sure what's going on, maybe because you've never reduced pain like this before, causing your senses to surge into overdrive.

Blood begins to seep from your nostrils as your face glows brightly and your head lolls back. And it wasn't until you let out an audible whine that Jin breaks out of his trance on you and rushes up to you.

He grabs your shoulders and jerks you away from the man, interfering with the healing process. And as soon as you lost contact, the agonizing sensation subsided, but the aftereffects almost immediately caused you to become limp in Jin's arms.

Jin drops to the floor with you, softly cradling you. He attempts to wake you, but you don't respond. "Ya! Wake up!"

The elder shifts his gaze from you to Yoongi. "What did you do, Oranyan?"

Yoongi meets his gaze. "I didn't do anything. All I asked her was to heal him."

"And from there, I don't know what was happening. I thought she was just healing him."

Jin's lips pinched as he returned his attention to you, his gaze drawn to the blood gushing down your nose. "I-I think it was too much for her."

"Too much?" Yoongi questions.

"After all, she is still a human being, just like me, you, and that punk over there." Jin replies. "Everyone has a limit, I know you know that, otherwise you wouldn't have asked her for help."

Yoongi turns away as Jin rises up and lifts you in bridal style. "I'll have one of the maknaes take care of whatever happened here."

"I came to tell you that you need to make dinner. And you'd best be prepared to explain everything later." He exits the interrogation room, leaving his dongsaeng behind.

Jin walks across the living room to the front entrance as he emerges from the basement. Their medical clinic is separate from their mansion, but still on their property, so they would have to walk a short distance to the modest housing unit.

On the way to the clinic, he comes across Namjoon, who is reading a book on one of the white benches on their magnificent front yard. Jin's footsteps on the gravel draw the leader's attention away from his book.

When he sees your unconscious body in the arms of his hyung, his brow furrows. He stands from the bench and walks over to you both. "What happened?"

Jin sighs. "I'm not sure, I found her with Yoongi in the interrogation room."

"I guess he needed her to heal the guy since he went too far again." He elaborates. "I think she passed out because it was too much for her."

When the three of you arrive at the clinic, Namjoon goes ahead and holds the door open for Jin. Jin lays you on the automatic medical fowler bed before scurrying into the clinic's supply room to retrieve some tools to help you.

"She's bleeding." Namjoon points out, as the other moves about.

"Oh really Namjoon, I hadn't realized that. Thanks for pointing it out." Jin reacts sarcastically.

Namjoon pouts. "Geez, I didn't notice it until now, okay."

Jin finally returns to you with the appropriate equipments. He needs to check sure you're still alive, so he attaches the fingertip pulse oximeter to your index finger and connects it to the machine.

The machine then detects your heartbeat, allowing the elder to exhale a relieved sigh. "Well, she's alive—"

"What are you doing?" Namjoon observes Jin as he drags a machine close to your head.

"I'm going to scan for her brain activity and see what's going on in that little head of hers when this happens." Jin answers. "I had some suspicion when she helped Jungkook."

"And that is?"

"I'll try to explain it simply, you know when she takes away the pain—" Namjoon nods, encouraging him to go on. "I believe she achieves this by transferring the pain we feel to herself, which means she will experience all of our pain at the moment."

Namjoon's pupils constrict. "That's… That's pretty sensible."

"But, we'll conduct a test to further confirm it." Jin tells him. "You asked me to do some research on the girl, so here it is."

"Shouldn't we first wake her up?" Namjoon inquires.

He shook his head. "No, at least not yet. I'd want to compare the results. Right now, her brain activity should be fairly stable, but we'll see."

Jin surrounds your head with the swoop portable mri scanner. He types on the machine's screen, and the machine whirrs away, leaving the two men waiting for the results of the scan.

It isn't long until the device completes the process and emits an electronic beep. Jin moves to the display computer beside them and types briefly on the keyboard before the scan results appear. Namjoon approaches him from behind, peering over his shoulder.

"What do the results indicate?" Namjoon asks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"These yellow-red patches in her frontal and parietal lobes are likely the stress-related aftereffects of the physical pain she suffered." Jin explains.

"It's almost mostly red on her parietal lobe, is that worse?" Namjoon inquires.

The master hacker nods. "Yes, the parietal lobe is in charge of sensory perception, such as taste, hearing, sight, smell, and… touch."

"You're right, then…" The leader concludes.

Jin snorts. "I'm always right."

Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Suddenly, the two men hear fabric ruffling, signifying that you are waking up.

They pivot, seeing your eyelids flutter open with a scrunch between your brows. When you fully wake, your face softens into a muddled look. You sat up hastily, swiveling your head in the strange room until you noticed the two familiar men alongside you.

Your wide doe-like eyes lock onto them. "W-where am I?"

"You're in our clinic house." The lens-spectacle man responds.

"A c-clinic ho-use…?" You stutter.

"Yeah, it's like going to a doctor's office to be healed and whatnot." Namjoon simply explains for you. "

"Healed…?" You tilt your head. "But I heal me."

"Well, it's also a place to find out whether there's something wrong with you." Jin adds.

Your eyes widen with a trace of panic, which the two men pick up on, only raising more questions about you in their minds. "I-Is something wrong in me?"

The oldest member shakes his head. "I wouldn't say bad, we're just doing tests to see what you do."

They test you; you must do well, you reason, thus you almost instantly sat up straight. "What do I do?"

"Huh?" Jin lifts his brows.

"You said, test me…" You started making that cute gesture you make when you're trying to explain yourself. Wait, cute? What on earth are they thinking?

"So 0-0-7, do what you say."

"Oh well, it's not much. It's a quick thing." Jin begins, then pats Namjoon on the shoulder. "Namjoon here is going to hurt himself, and you're going to heal him again."

Namjoon looks at Jin. "Excuse me? Since when have I-"

"Since now. Now go hurt yourself with something." Jin smiles tightly.

"With what exactly?" He narrows his eyes at his hyung.

The latter merely shrugs. "I don't know. You're the clumsy one."

"Fuck you. I'm NOT that clumsy." The younger scowls.

Jin's brow furrows. "No… You're quite clumsy at times, it's ridiculous."

"Am not." Namjoon groans.

"Remind me who packed the wrong explosive on the helicopter?" The broad-shouldered man crosses his arms and stares expectantly at the other.

"Hey-! It's not my fault they look the same to me!" Namjoon accusingly points at him.

"And neither is it my fault, you were too over-confident."

"Look, if you're not going to hurt yourself, I will." Jin says.

"Oh, really? And how are you—ah!" When Jin jabs a scalpel into his hand and swiftly retracts it, the tactical genius yelps loudly.

"YA! Are you crazy?!" Namjoon exclaims with disbelief.

"I did strap a missile to a tiny helicopter in order to blow up a moving truck… So, perhaps a little?" He replies condescendingly.

"Again, fuck you, that hurt."

"Well, of course, it hurts you pabo, I stabbed your hand."

Jin claps his hands. "Okay, now that he sustained an injury—" He turns to look at you, only to catch you looking at both of them, frightened. Jin's unexpected action may have scared you. The way he didn't think twice about hurting the mafia leader reminded you so much of your father, who didn't hesitate about punishing his scientists and workers if the drugs and experiments on you didn't work or went wrong, along with you, of course.

"Oh, I- um, it's for the test." Jin approaches, but you simply shrink back.

And Jin dislikes it. You and he may have just spent a short time together, but he preferred it when you didn't back away from him. "H-hey, I'm not going to hurt you like that... that, was just for the test."

You reluctantly nodded, then shifted your gaze to the leader, feeling a clear sensation in you that he's hurt. Namjoon meets your eyes, knowing exactly what you're about to ask him. He chuckles to himself, you're like an open book, so simple to read.

He approaches you and extends his hand to you. But Jin stops you before you can display your glowing visage again. "Wait, let me first put this on you."

He grabs a piece of the contraption and places it on your head, puzzling Namjoon. "What is that?"

"It's a neuro headset. It will read her brain activity and transmit it to us in real-time while she heals you." He answers.

As Jin finishes setting the headset on you, Namjoon's lips make an 'o' of understanding. "Okay, you're all set."

Then, he locks eye contact with you, with no animosity. "Don't worry, whether you heal him or not, you'll do well."

Your lips curl into a little grin at his remarks, now nodding with more confidence, which causes him to smile as well. You cover Namjoon's bleeding wound with your feathery touch. Your purple glow comes to life, illuminating your veins, around the wound, and your eyes.

You begin to close the cut on Namjoon's hand while also relieving his pain. And this time, Namjoon truly focusses on your face, attentively watching even the smallest twitches in your face as Jin keeps his attention, analyzing your brain waves. When you transfer the pain into yourself, you close your eyes and your face starts to contort in discomfort.

Jin is right; when you're healing someone, you experience all they feel. He leans back in shock, watching as the wavelengths on the screen bounce higher, indicating the severity of your discomfort. You slowly open your eyes again a few seconds later, and your purple light fades, indicating that the process was complete.

You let go of the dimpled man's hand, revealing it to be perfectly flawless, as if the injury had never occurred. He then pivots, waiting to hear from the master hacker about your brain activity.

Jin just nods his head, confirming Namjoon's thoughts. You're a true enigma to figure out. “How do you feel?”

Namjoon's question makes you blink. “Me?”

“Yes, how do you feel?”

“I feel… okay?” You say.

"007, what did you mean when I asked you how you take away our pain?" Jin asks.

You hum. “Your pain, my pain.”

"I should've known then, but now I know. This changes things a bit."

Namjoon nods. “It does. So we can’t entirely rely on her when it comes to the more severe injuries.”

“We have to tell the others about it.”

“Indeed, we do. We have a lot to talk about anyways, I assume Yoongi got the man to talk.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”

By dinnertime, the seven members had gathered in the dining room, where the delicious food had been prepared by the scar-faced man.

The table was unusually quiet, which generally meant that something bad or novel would be spoken. In any case, the maknae line never enjoyed the tense atmosphere, at least not at the dinner table.

Jungkook uttered a whine. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I have something to say…”

“I have some information…”

Yoongi and Jin spoke at the same time, causing the others to raise their brows and the two men to exchange glances.

“Well, since I’m the older one, you go first.” Jin crosses his arms.

Yoongi only huffs. “Sure… I got a name and location for the gang. The birdie informed me that their gang's leader conducts business in private. But he uses an alias. So it's pointless to try to check his background."

“And the location?” Namjoon inquires.

“Daegu. They had plans if they were compromised they’d lay low there.”

"It seems that their leader loves Golden Dragons. And, that he’s a person we don’t come to and demand of, he comes to you, or so he says.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then we’ll go to Daegu.” Namjoon declares.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Deagu?! That’s hours away. That’ll be—”

"Yes, it will be a full work day for us, maybe a couple of work days." Namjoon confirms.

"When are we leaving?" Hoseok questions, unfazed by the sudden plans.

"The sooner the better, therefore we'll leave tomorrow." The leader answers.

The maknae groans. “Aw man, that means we’re going to have to pack tonight.” Jimin scolds him quietly by pinching his leg.

“Then it’s settled, we’re going to Daegu tomorrow.”

Jimin looks at Jin. “Now, what was it you were going to share hyung?”

He exhales, his shoulders dropping. “It’s about the girl, 007.”

“What about her? Is she okay?” His face is filled with concern. “Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her since she went into the interrogation room with Yoongi.”

“Well, she’s alright now. But it’s about her… abilities, we could say…” He begins.

"We all know that one of her abilities is to heal wounds and relieve pain for all of us, or anybody, really—"

"You're rambling again, Jin hyung." Jimin puffs his cheeks.

He exhales forcefully. "Remember when she came to help you when I extracted the bullet from you, Jungkook?" Jungkook nods, and Jin resumes. "What she did when she numbed the pain was transfer the pain to herself."

"Meaning, she felt all the pain you were feeling at that moment—that's how she does that thing." He explains.

The table falls silent once more as everyone processes the new information.

"See, I had a feeling bringing her down there wasn't a smart idea." Taehyung frowns at Yoongi.

"Ya, none of us knew that until now. Don't blame me." The older glares back.

"How did you find out about this?" Asked Jungkook.

"Well, Namjoon and I went to the clinic to run some brief tests on her after she passed out in the interrogation room. Her brain scans reveal it all." Jin replies.

"Ah… I see…"

"Wait- Did you say she collapsed?!" Jimin's eyes widened as he turned to face the person who had prepared dinner.

"What do you want me to say— I didn't think that would happen." Yoongi shrugs.

"Alright, well, we all know now. We can't rely fully on her if one of us suffers a more severe injury." Namjoon breaks up the members' glares and looks.

"But she was fine when she was healing Jungkook," Jimin muses.

"The only difference is that he didn't have the drug put into him." Jin sneers.

Oranyan slams the table with his fist. "Can't you all be thankful that I got something from him to help us all?"

"Seriously, all I've been hearing at this table is how badly I screwed up. It's annoying." He clenches his teeth.

"You know what, whatever, I'm not hungry anymore." He abruptly rises from his seat, and all six of the remaining eyes follow him.

"Where are you going Yoongi?" Jin sighs.

"Room." He walks away without looking back.

They all looked at each other for a moment before Taehyung broke the quiet. "Shouldn't we—"

"No, just leave him alone for the time being. He needs his time to cool off." Namjoon replies.

"And speaking of the girl, since were going on our little business trip, we just can't leave her here the entire time."

"What do you suggest we do?" Hoseok cocks his head.

"We'll enroll her in school." Namjoon responds while slicing his steak.

"A school… You want to put her in school?" Hoseok repeats.

"Yes."

"I think she'll be alright with Sun-woo here." Jungkook insists.

"Yeah, but for a more than a day, busy with what? A children's cartoon?" Namjoon counteracts.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender. "I'm simply looking at it logically. I mean, she has no social skills, rarely speaks, and doesn't even recognize half of the items in this house. You think she'll survive a day at a school?"

"While I understand your point of view, Jungkook, I think Namjoon's idea is good. How else could she learn those things—certainly not from us." Jin sips from his glass of wine. "And I believe that is also a logical viewpoint. She wouldn't gain from being cooped up in this mansion. And if she's going to stay with us, she might as well learn a thing or two."

"Are we even going to be able to have her registered so quickly? We leave tomorrow." Taehyung questions.

Jin smirks. "Look who you're talking to; what you're asking me is child's play."

"I mean, she's the one forced into a new environment after all." Jimin proposed.

Namjoon nods. "We will and we'll get her registered first thing tomorrow, and then leave later in the evening. Does that sound good?"

Everyone hums or nods in accordance to their leader's instructions.

"So… I think it's very clear we can't register with the number she gave us. She needs a name." Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food, ravenous after all that talking.

"Hmm, you're right… Maybe we can discuss that with her."

Yoongi exits the dining area and ascends the stairs, walking idly along the corridor until he glances up and finds himself in front of your bedroom door.

Over the course of a few weeks, it appears that him bringing your food for dinner has become such a habit that even his body knows where to go and for what without even realizing it. He throws your door open, making you flinch at the door slamming as he strides in, still agitated by the dinner conversation.

“Your food.” He spits, roughly placing it on the bedside table in front of you.

With a little furrow between your brows, you gaze up at him silently. “Y-you… feel not good.”

“Yeah, and I wonder whose fault is that?” He sneers.

"Who?" Curiosity filled your eyes.

He scowls and mentally breathes, cool it Yoongi, one less thing for them to nag you about if you blow up in front of her. "It's none of your business."

You avert your eyes, now staring at the meal. You have a sense that if you make any abrupt moves, you'll set him off. But your inaction seemed to irritate him even more.

You can feel his frustration waves making you tense as he clicks his tongue. “Ya-! Are you gonna eat or what?”

You swallow, unsure where to look, but nod anyway. “I-I will.”

“Well, then…” He narrows his eyes at you.

You perceive this as a cue to start eating on your own. You assume he won't feed you tonight, so you'll have to help feed yourself. And, of course, you're still not sure how to use the utensils.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the food on the white porcelain plate, scooping up the rice and spicy red vegetable known as Kimichi, which you learned you really liked. Your other hand goes to rip a piece of meat jun that you also found you really liked the flavor of.

So you started stuffing the food into your mouth wordlessly, completely disregarding the silvery utensils on either side of the tray, just like the first time he served you dinner.

He catches your attention with an impatient sigh. "Weeks have passed, and you still can't manage something as basic as a spoon or chopsticks?"

"You see these things—" He motions with the spoon and chopsticks, causing you to nod while starring at him. "Use them. Now."

"O-okay." You squeak, clutching the spoon with your food-strewn hands, knowing that it was easier for you to use.

When you picked up the spoon, you tried to mimic what the man in front of you used to do when he fed you, scooping the rice and ready to rip a piece of meat jun again when Yoongi stopped you. "No, use the chopsticks. You've spent enough time watching to understand how to use it."

You hesitantly nod once more before taking the two silver sticks. However, you struggle to grasp it properly when you try to take a piece of the meat jun with the chopstick, holding the utensil awkwardly. You were able to rip a little bit, but as soon as you got a grip of it between the metal sticks, it fell instantly.

You puff softly, attempting it again—once… twice… three times—but it falls pitifully at each attempt. And this simply adds to the master manipulator's aggravation. "YA! Are you that helpless, or should I say useless?"

Your lips quiver faintly as you recoil at his outburst. You disliked it when people yelled at you. With the pathetic ratio of successes and failures you accumulated during your 'training' and testing, it always reminded you how much of a failure you are.

"Can't even use a simple object. I won't understand how any of them think any good of you when you can't even do this." He rants angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

And you hadn't realized that when you finally looked up at him again, your eyes blazed purple, indicating that you were scared of him. He exhales deeply before opening his eyes and returning your gaze, noticing your vivid violet eyes.

He's quite taken aback by it, but he doesn't show it. This happened the last time he saw you for the first time. Why are your eyes so bright when you're just with him? He steps back. "I don't have time to deal with this; I'll have someone fetch the platter when you're done."

He quickly pivots, shrewdly speed-walking back to your door, leaving you in the tense atmosphere.

The next day, the group convened once more to have you registered at one of the nearby schools, as planned. After dinner, Jin proceeded to forge various documents to formally enroll you, such as a paper proof of residency and emergency contact information, as well as fill out a general application form to prevent any suspicions and questioning.

To be totally honest, it'll still raise quite a few eyebrows for one of the country's most infamous mafia gangs to suddenly enroll a girl who hasn't seemed to exist for the previous nineteen years.

The final thing they needed to do was to create a birth certificate for you, but first they had to come up with a name for you. So, with the seven men in your room, they start to discuss the ideal name for you.

"Good morning 007." Jimin grins politely and joins the rest of you in the room, holding a platter of steaming tea in his hands.

With a little wave, you falteringly smile. "Hi…"

You gaze with curiosity as he sets the tray on your nightstand. "Is that my medicine?"

Jimin pauses, puzzledly glancing at you. "Medicine-? This? Oh, no, it's tea. Green tea."

"Tea? Will it make me caa-lm?" You queried.

"I guess…? It's healthy for you." Jimin responds hesitantly.

"007, did they give you something like this back where you're from?" Taehyung questions.

You nod truthfully. "They make me take to caa-lm me."

"And do you know what kind of medicine they give you?"

"Mister said P-pavulon… I t-take when they fix me." You stumble through your reply, trying your hardest to get the words out.

Jin's eyes widened in shock, but Hoseok, being the astute observer that he is, notices it. "I take it, it sounds familiar to you hyung?"

Everyone looks at Jin as he nods in affirmation. "Pavulon- or more precisely, pancuronium it's a neuromuscular blocker used as an adjunct to general anesthesia to facilitate tracheal intubation and to provide skeletal muscle relaxation for patients that undergoes mechanical ventilation or I assume, in her case, surgery."

"Maybe talk in dumb for people who don't understand science terminology you." Jungkook smiles sarcastically.

"It's a more targeted paralytic medicine used in conjunction with general anesthetic to induce skeletal muscular relaxation in the patient, which will require mechanical ventilation since they'll struggle to breathe on their own." Jin explains again.

"So they're practically paralyzed from the neck down?" Taehyung frowns.

"Yes, and in fact, seventy percent of the time, some people do not regain their sensation, resulting in death." Jin continues. "That's why several laws to ban the drug were almost passed."

"But I assume it's only after a certain number of times they've been drugged with it or how much they've been given in one dose, right?" Jimin's face is covered in worry.

"That is correct, and she is quite lucky to still be able to move or be alive."

"Wait a minute- why would they need to use such a strong drug to get her into that state?" The maknae wonders aloud.

Namjoon rubs his chin. "That's a good question, Jungkook."

"Well, given what we know, one thing is certain: whatever facility 007 came from isn't a regular facility."

"Jin, you were able to get any details on her?" Namjoon looks to the eldest.

The latter shakes his head. "No boss, absolutely no traces of her. When Jimin and Jungkook met her, she seemed to appear out of nowhere."

"Alright, it seems like we'll have to make do with what she can tell us about the institution where she was held."

"But for the time being, let's concentrate on the enrollment—So, 007…" The leader now turns his attention to you. "We talked last night, and we all agreed to send you to school because we'll be away on a… business trip."

Yoongi snorts, stifling a laugh, at the notion of you attending school during their time in Daegu. But the rest of them gave him a look that made him shrug. "What-? I thought it was funny, nothing wrong with that."

"What is school?" You tilt your head.

"Basically prison." Jungkook muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear, and Hoseok chastised him by nonchalantly smacking the back of his head. "Ow- hey-!"

Your pupils dilated. "Prison? Did 007 do wrong?"

Jimin frantically shakes his head. "No, no, you did nothing wrong. And it's certainly NOT a prison." He then glares at his dongsaeng. "Jungkook has no idea what he's talking about."

"Oh… Then, what is it?" Your face regains its innocent expression.

"It's a place where young people like you go to learn all there is to know about the world." Jimin answers. "It… It can be enjoyable, and you'll meet a lot of other kids like you!"

"Actually, there are no other kids like her. At least a kid who can heal others and herself in seconds and has glowing eyes." Jungkook interrupts.

"Jungkook-! Seriously." Jimin gives him another scowl.

"Okay, I'll stop." He chuckles.

"You'll get used to it, I believe in you." Taehyung smiles at you.

You reciprocate his smile. "Okay, when I go?"

"Today, in a like two hours maybe." Jin checks his watch.

"However, before we can register you, we must first create a birth certificate for you. The only issue is that we need to give you a real name."

"Name…? 0-0-7—" You point to yourself. "Me- my n-name, 007."

Jin shakes his head. "No, that's a number. Those people in your facility didn't give you a name; they just gave you a number. A number makes you a subject, not a person."

"And you're a person, a human, not anything else."

"So, 007, what do you want to be called?" Taehyung lip-smiles.

With confusion, your eyes are blank. "I-I don't know."

"How about, Ae-Ri?" Jungkook suggests.

"Eh, that sounds too girly for her." Taehyung disagrees.

Jimin arches his brow. "Too girly? What makes it 'too girly', Taehyung?"

Taehyung pursed his lips. "Uh… no… Nevermind."

"What about, Eun-Ha?" Hoseok proposed.

"Oh hell no- that's my sister's name. Definitely not." Jin grimaces.

"Okay, not Eun-Ha, what do you suggest then?" The younger said.

"Let's do Min-Ah." He smirks.

Taehyung giggles. "Sounds like the a shorter girl version of Jimin-ah."

Jimin narrows his eyes on the later 95. "Fuck off, Taehyung."

"Hyung!" Jungkook whines as he notices your ears perk up at the swear word from Jimin.

Jimin looks at Jungkook then shifts his eyes to you, where you look at him with wonder. "Fuck?"

He nervously laughs. "Don't repeat that. Especially not in school, okay?"

"Fuck?"

"Yeah, don't say it okay?" And you nod in compliance, to which Jimin sighs in relief.

"Han-Byul, it's classic." Namjoon says.

"No offense Namjoon, but if I were you, I would sit this one out." Jin said.

Namjoon looks at him, completely offended. "What, why? What's wrong with my name idea?"

"It sounds ancient, you're going to make her seem old." Jungkook pats his leader's shoulder.

"Exactly, took the words right out of my mouth." Jin concurs.

"It's not old, it's classic." Namjoon repeats.

"It's old, that's what it is." Taehyung comments.

Jimin then turns to look at you. "007, how do you like the name, Ji-Won?"

"Ji-Won?" You think audibly.

Jungkook snorts. "Are you sure you want to name her after one of your hookups?"

Jimin swivels his head to look at the maknae. "No...? Wait- How do you know her name?"

"You're telling me you didn't know? She's hundred sixty-two centimeters, smaller eyes, black to blonde ombre hair— that girl, does it ring a bell?" Jungkook looks at the older expectantly.

"Ohh- her... Why do you even remember her anyways?" The master seducer squints at him.

"She came crying to me when you broke the 'news' to her one day after your guys 'amazing' night." He answers.

"Oh- well, then I got nothin'." Jimin says.

The room eventually became silent as they all struggled to come up with a nice name for you, as you sat on your knees gazing at them on your bed.

"Y/N." A voice disrupts the silence.

All seven heads turned to look at the source of the voice, and all eyes were drawn to Yoongi. "What did you say?"

"Y/N, it's simple, and it matches her- I guess…" He mumbles, his eyes averted elsewhere, missing the way your eyes gleam at the mention of the name. Hearing it piques your interest.

Another beat goes by, and your sweet voice comes out. "Y/N…"

"I l-like Y/N." You say again.

Jungkook, Namjoon, and Hoseok's expressions gradually shift to one of slight surprise, while Jimin, Jin, and Taehyung's slowly smirk at your response before diverting their attention to the second-oldest member's reaction to your reaction.

Yoongi coughs, attempting to dismiss it; the bitterness from last night is still present. "Goo- Yeah, whatever."

"Alright, if 007 likes it, then we'll go with it." Namjoon claps his hands.

Everyone accepts with a nod, and Taehyung's boxy smile forms on his face. "It's nice to meet finally meet you, Y/N."

You grin, revealing your teeth. "T-thank you, Tae-tae…"

"D-did I say name r-right?"

Hoseok chuckles as he tries to correct you. "It's actually—"

But Taehyung interjects, waving his hand. "Yeah, you can call me Tae-Tae."

You giggle slightly in response to his pleasant remark.

After a fifteen-minute drive, the eight of you arrived at Yonsei University. The chauffeur parks their black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Luxury van, and shortly after you all exited, eliciting numerous attention from students and a few from the school's bypassing staff.

Your eyes surveyed the magnificent architecture, which was partially covered by what appeared to be green moss. Jimin and Jungkook walked on each side of you, both staring at the structure. "From now on, this is where you'll spend the majority of your time."

You twist your head to look at the tattooed-sleeved man on your left. "I-It looks n-ice."

Jimin hums, looking at you. "I think so too."

"Let's go inside." Namjoon announces.

To say that everyone in the front office was surprised is an understatement. Everyone halted in their tracks to gawk at the mafia gang as they strolled in with you, nearing the front desk where the assistant head administrator stands.

She gulps visibly as you all approach, Namjoon in front. "We want to register a student here. Where is your head administrator?"

"H-quite he's busy at the moment, you might have to wait for about half an hour before he could meet with you." She answers.

"Well, tell him to cancel his plans right now because we're on a tight schedule." Namjoon smiles that didn't reach his eyes.

She timidly nods, reaching for the black phone beside her and dialing the number. "Hello, sir; there are people here who want to enroll a student right now."

"Didn't I say I had work to do? Tell them I decline to meet them, and do your job to set up another time."

"Besides, it's mid-year; they're crazy to register them now."

The assistant anxiously flickers her eyes at Bangtan, which catches Hoseok's attention. "Sir, you don't understand…"

Hoseok's face twitches with amusement as he approaches Namjoon from behind. "Boss, he's most likely refusing."

The woman hears Hoseok and glances at them both with fright. "Ah- no, he'll—"

Namjoon blinks, his face expressionless yet menacing to everyone else. "I'll talk to him."

She hands the phone to Bangtan's leader immediately. He then presses the phone against his ear. "Morning, Pang Chunso-ssi—"

"Who am I speaking to? Are you the one who wants to enroll a student in the middle of the school year? Are you insane?"

Namjoon chuckles dryly. "This is Black Mamba speaking, I'm sure you've heard of me."

The phone went silent.

"Good, you have. Then you should know that I wasn't asking when I said I wanted to register a student here."

The man suddenly clears his throat. "I apologize! O-of course, I'll have my schedule c-cleared out r-right now."

"Excellent. And one more thing Pang Chunso-ssi..."

"Yes... Sir?"

"Am I crazy?" He grinned evilly.

"N-No, o-of course n-not, sir."

"Right, because I'm not that crazy to know about the secret second family you've been hiding from your wife and two kids for the past three years." He replies.

"H-how…"

"Ah, ah, no questions, we'll be at your office in two minutes, and if you're not ready by then, all of those pictures will be sent in two minutes, understood?"

"Y-yes."

"See you soon, Chunso-ssi." He hangs up the phone and returns it to the woman. "Lead us to his office."

They entered the chief administrator's office two minutes later, exactly as Namjoon had stated, with the documents in Jin's hands. As Bangtan comes in, the man straightens up.

He greets Namjoon and the others with a 90-degree bow. "Please take a seat."

"To begin, I'll need the application form, birth certificate, past school records, and emergency contact documents." He begins.

Jin passes over the packet with all of the necessary documentation. "There aren't any school records."

"Pardon?" He raises his eyes to Jin.

"She's never been to school before; this is her first time." Jin responds.

The head administrator's face contorts in befuddlement. "And it's for…" He then takes a look at the application form and the birth certificate. "…Kim Y/N."

"Y/N, me." You smile as you talk, pulling the man's attention to yourself.

He smiles professionally. "That's the new student, I see. I see- well, unfortunately, without any school records, we won't be able to—"

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear Pang Chunso-ssi... Should we find out how your wife and kids will react when they realize you—"

"Okay, okay!" He coughs, trying to keep his composure. "I'll get her registered, she'll start attending tomorrow."

"Today." Namjoon cuts in.

"I- Today..." Chunso glances at his assistant, calling her over. "Tell them to prepare her transcripts and class schedule."

The woman nods, taking the documents and hurriedly leaving the office. Chunso then claps his hands. "Well, you may wait outside, her papers will be ready in a few short minutes."

They all rise from their chairs, and the man bows ninety degrees again. You cock your head. "What are you doing?"

Everyone then looks at you. "I-I'm showing respect."

"Oh." You blankly look at him up and down then mirror his actions, bowing ninety degrees, making the old man's eyes widen. "Huh-?!"

Before you could say anything else, you're grabbed by the shoulder and led out of the office, leaving the headmaster stunned.

"Y/N, you don't have to do that." Jin tells you.

"Why?"

"You're with us, or at least closely associated with us now. And a thing about Bangtan, they don't bow down to anyone, so neither should you." Namjoon explains.

"So... no bow?"

"Yes."

Once your papers were printed, indicating that you were an official student at the school, the assistant informed you that you would be given a tour of the school by another student, which meant that the seven men who accompanied you were no longer required to be present.

So they're back at the entryway, near their parked luxury vehicle, wishing you goodbye.

"I feel like a mother dropping her child off at college." Jin says this while smiling at you. "But aside from that, behave well and have fun, okay?"

He carefully extends his hand and softly pets your head, making you grin slightly as you hum in response.

Jin steps back, allowing the others their turn. Everyone except Yoongi, who is already grimacing in the van as his members say their goodbyes.

Hoseok and Namjoon finished their turn next, followed by Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung.

"Ya, don't do anything I wouldn't, alright?" Jungkook says, causing Taehyung and Jimin to nudge him roughly. "What-? I didn't say anything bad."

"Yeah but she doesn't understand that. And besides, the things you wouldn't do is socialize and be nice to others." Taehyung rolls his eyes.

"That's exactly my point." Jungkook responds, which makes the elder less amused.

He then looks at you. "Hope you have fun my cutie. We'll be back before you know it."

The two youngest then climbed in the vehicle with the others, leaving Jimin alone. "Also if anyone bothers you, tell us okay?"

You nod. "O-okay."

He ruffles your hair lightly. "Bye Y/N. We'll arrange for Sun-woo to pick you up after school."

"Just look for a car like this one, understood?"

"Yes."

Finally, all seven members piled into the vehicle and drove away.

"Y/N-ssi." Someone beckons to you, prompting you to turn around.

"Hello." You greet. "My name, Y/N."

"I know, I called you that." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm Young-Jae, I'm assigned to show you around the school, so keep up."

"Keep up?" You furrow your brows at the phrase.

"Yeah, it means don't be slow." He scoffs. "What are you five?"

"No, my name, Y/N." You gesture to yourself.

He irritably clicks his tongue. "Yeah, you said that twice, now come on."

After about a half-hour tour of the school, Young-Jae had bite his tongue every few seconds in answer to your absurd questions. Seriously, how do you not know any of the stuff here, like a water fountain. Were you born under a rock, or are you just dumb?

Then a bright bulb went out in his head, yeah, it will undoubtedly be a memorable first day of school for you. He comes to a halt in the middle of his stroll, which causes you to come to a halt as well. "Hey, wanna see a cool spot that no one else knows about?"

"Cool…?" Your brow furrows with interest.

"Yeah, you'll enjoy this." He lies.

"O-okay." You blithely agree. Too easy, he thought.

He snatches your wrist and drags you over campus, your small legs struggling to keep up with his speed. He then comes to a halt in the middle of the corridor, in front of an old, worn-out door. "We've arrived."

You peer around behind him, your gaze scanning the door. "What is it?"

"Oh, there are so many great things you could play with." He responds in a phony happy tone that you miss.

If there was anything nice that came out of the facility, it was the unlimited quantity of toys you were given to keep you entertained in the ten-by-ten-foot box room.

"I-I can g-o in-sside?" You questioned.

"Sure you can!" He opens the door and then shoves you inside. "Have fun!"

Then he shuts the door and doesn't bother to switch on the lights for you. You stare about in the darkness until you hear a click that causes your head to jerk up. "H-hello?"

But all you're met with is silence.

And suddenly, the darkness merely brings back the unpleasant memories you're trying to erase. You start grabbing your chest and squeezing it repeatedly, striving to keep your whimpers silent. Your eyes are closed as you strive to remain quiet; otherwise, someone could discover you and scold you for being so… weak…

"Hello, 007." An artificial voice interrupted your thoughts, forcing you to startle and open your eyes.

Your wide eyes landed on a purple three-dimensional holographic lady, and your eyes began to glow violet again as you stared at the unknown woman in front of you.

"Do not be afraid 007, I am only here to assist you." The woman speaks robotically.

"My name is Genesis, and I am a three-dimensional artificial intelligence. Dr. Hyon Kwan created me. Also known as for you, Mister."

masterpost | two | four

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.50)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: two different first times, two different outcomes.

Tags: Dom! Yoongi, Dom! Tae, Sub! reader, Trans! Taehyung, Mommy! tae, Mommy kink, Omega Space, KNOTTING, breeding kink, belly bulge, implied cervix fucking (it’s my universe and i can do what i want with it), marking kink, nipple play, threesome, sloppy seconds, dacryphilia, cumplay, cum marking, dirty talk, body worship, discussion of past eating disorders, talk of the m/c gaining weight, dysphoria mention, Near death Experiences, First kisses, Dead bodies, stupidity 

W/c: 15.2k

A/n: suspend your disbelief for this one please <3 Let’s have a big round of applause for the 50th chapter 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 if you told me 2 years ago that i’d still be writing bily i don’t think i would have believed you! Please give this chapter lots of love  <3 it took a lot of hard work to get to this point!! the lovely @imperiussexrex​ has made a little bily discord server over here- it’s basically just a very casual group chat. I also have the recipe for the mug cake that the m/c makes if anyone wants it! 

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

The bruise on Tae’s hip from her first two weeks of estrogen shots has spread like the ink from watercolors. The pink and purple bruise lies over the cusp of her hip like blooming peonies. The ache there turns tender with her showers. A constant reminder of what she’s lost, and what she has to gain.

It’s the end of the day already, and Namjoon’s not home yet.

Tomorrow morning she’ll get her fifth shot, and a bright kernel of anticipation and nervousness has already worked its way into her chest. Tae hasn’t noticed many symptoms yet- maybe a little tenderness in her chest- a softening to her jaw that will take months to truly form.

Each morning you’ve helped her, cataloging the syrup-slow changes in her body. Often with your own hands- skimming up and down her sides tugging at her matching pj set deftly, the way you do when you're needy and sleepy. 

She feels a bit needy herself right now. She’s restless, anxious to have her alpha home, to tuck her face into Namjoon’s shoulder and breathe him in deep and trust that he will manage her anxiety for her. But even as she feels the need for him pulse through her like something addictive and destructive the guilt also flares.

Namjoon sees people in pain every day; it’s his job to manage it and try and make it better even when all too often he can’t do much for them. to ask him to do that at home too feels a little unfair. 

Tae knows how hard it is to see people in pain, especially when it's people you love. She sees the sharp flintiness in her own eyes when she looks in the mirror in the mornings when her skin doesn't fit right. When Jungkook shields his eyes from the light post-seizure, his whole body is tight. 

She sees it in your eyes sometimes when you've got to eat and you don't want to. When Yoongi winces, gripping his shoulder that’s never really been right since he came back (the one he broke your front door down with the night that everything went to shit if it matters for context).  

The whole pack knows what it looks like when Namjoon comes home after losing a patient. How his eyes linger on them like he’s waiting for something similar to happen to them. Like he's preemptively preparing himself for something bad to happen and all of them to be taken away from him. 

Namjoon is softer than he’d ever willingly admit.

The rest of the pack is in that middle space where nighttime sleeping arrangements are being decided. Besides a few nights ago you’ve been firmly in your own nest the last few nights. Tae can help but feel like the forced separation of one pack into two nests is driving everyone insane.  

The pack bedroom upstairs remains mostly empty and unused. It's been finished for weeks now but you and the other omegas resist its tug. Like you're waiting for something. 

For the life of her, Tae can't figure out what for.

Even Jungkook had dodged her questions. Claiming that he needed quiet to stretch his body into increasingly convoluted shapes. Shooing Tae out of the back room which he's affectionately started calling the studio. 

Which also prompted arguing and a distraction as Hobi called from the other room. Hobi's vote is clear- it's going to be a greenhouse. But really, who knows what it will become? Each packmate bickers with Yoongi whenever the topic comes up. The last of the windows arrive this week, and after that- it will be a free for all.  

It's the last part of the upper floors that need to be finished (although Yoongi’s already talking about making the deck larger, about re-doing the downstairs bathroom and the basement too- there’s so much work that needs to be done to restore the foundation- but mixing concrete is a bitch. 

Tae's the only one who doesn't bicker. She has no skin in the game. It’s already been decided that your bedroom will become a makeup and dressing room one day. You'd talked about it together- pressed underneath a thin sheet late at night, giggling and trying not to rouse Yoongi a few inches away. Pressed as close as daydreams savored between afternoon and evening. 

Jimin has been pacing through the house like a stray dog scratching outside your door. Jin too- is restless. 

They’ve wandered back and forth to the kitchen to get water, To get Jungkookie a late-night snack, To retrieve a pillow from the couch because it’s the only thing that will make the nest right.

It’s not, they all know what Jin really craves in the nest- and it’s not some stupid throw pillow.

Even noodle had parked himself firmly on top of the pack’s dresser, and (after batting one of Jimin’s cologne bottles off the edge that narrowly missed the alphas foot) had glowered at Jin as if to say 'why are you letting her sleep somewhere where she’s not safe?'

Tae can’t help but feel like she’s pacing too. Her nightdress swishes around her hips as she lingers by your cracked bedroom door, unsure of where she'll lay her head down tonight as well- your nest calls to her- but Namjoon-

Her night dress toes the line between lingerie and daywear, with translucent panels of flower-flecked lace leaving just enough of her waist up to the imagination and very little of her small- but definitely growing chest-up for grabs. It’s a pretty pink thing like most of her clothes are now.

Most of her boy clothes had been claimed by the rest of the pack in the last few weeks. They'd all basically shared clothes before her transition but still, it's been strange.

It’s jarring to see bits of the old Taehyung here and there still around the house. But Tae knows that Jungkookie would stop wearing her old pants if she asked and Hobi would throw out her old knit sweaters if they didn’t look so cute when they pulled over his hands like sweater paws. Everything could be gone- burned in an instant if she so much as uttered a word to Jimin.

She tries to feel less upset about it- especially because there are other hints of the real her filling the house now too.

A silk scarf that Jin ties around his head to keep his hair out of his eyes, a thick strawberry patterned cardigan thrown over a chair here. A pair of lace-trimmed shorts that Namjoon accidentally slips on post-roll in the hay. Noodle yowling at the door to get out and Namjoon eager to quiet the noise only to look down and realize how little the shorts covered. A lipstick tube that clatters in the center console of Hobi’s car in Tae’s favorite shade.

Tae’s makeup feels like it’s mostly worn off right now although she re-touched her lipstick earlier after dinner and before she wrote in the library room for a bit and then decided it was time for bed. You have a whole double-cleansing routine that you usually do. Most of Tae’s skincare routine is in your room, not the pack’s bedroom.  

So she lingers outside the door, ears straining to hear inside. It’s nearly closed, cracked just a little like you’re half hoping to tempt an unsuspecting alpha inside. Tae knows she’s always welcome in your nest room but tonight, No one’s been brave enough to answer their temptation and head after you and Yoongi.

You’d both disappeared in there an hour ago after dinner where you’d sat a little closer than usual, Yoongi’s hand on your knee stroking up and down lazily under the table through the whole of dinner (Tae had seen when she’d dropped her napkin). Gazes a little heavy and scents a little sweet.

The whole pack knows, they can feel it in their blood calling to them. A siren call to protect and join. Because nothing is more vulnerable than a pair of packmates mid-breeding.

Tae can feel the shift in the air and in her canines, her body conjuring up goosebumps at the shift of your scents. Whatever you and Yoongi are getting up to in your bedroom is clearly setting the whole pack on edge even more than usual.

The telltale soft-moisture-claustrophobia of a hot shower slips out from the crack in the door. It tickles her toes when she taps it open just a little more, hinges creaking. The wetness refreshes the faint curl of the hair on the back of her neck. Dampening her lips.

Her eyes widen as she peers through the crack. Her breath goes a little jagged, flushing hotly when she realizes what she’s looking at and what she’s intruded on.

Two thick and fluffy towels pool on the floor, damp and discarded. The soft tangle of your hair is drawn to the side, off of your back while Yoongi’s hands work up and down your naked torso. Trailing down the arch of your spine, smoothing up and down endless trails of touches.

Tae has always had a particular weakness for Yoongi's hands. So boney and beautiful and made for building things.

You're wearing nothing but a tiny tiny pair of panties that clings to the wetness between your thighs and she knows better than to think that wetness comes from just the shower. Your Legs are half splayed either from tiredness or because Yoongi’s put you that way.  A willing pupped under your mate's hands.

A shaft of golden light from the cracked bathroom door falls across your shoulders. And Tae watches as Yoongi bends over to kiss it, biting softly encouraging a little giggle from you.

It’s a Small pupish sound. Innocent. The kind of noise you only make while in omegaspace. Your nest too- is the nest of a pup. The edge all thick and fluffy- like you’d spent a few minutes fluffing every pillow. 

The soft ones there at the headboard are from Namjoon and Jin and the long body pillow on the side a courting gift from Jimin. And there, at the top where you press your face in an effort to get her scent around you more- is the lacy little nightdress that Tae wore last night.  

Tae’s heartbeat quickens as Yoongi hums, amused. Your bitten-off whine crescendos as Yoongi massages your neck. 

“-soon sweetheart, be good and patient and you’ll get what you need.” Your hand moves to cup the inside portion of Yoongi’s thigh, kneading at it like a kitten would knee the hand that pets it. Your mate huffs.

“What? Once wasn’t enough?” His hands don't leave your body for a second.

There is very little time for her to step away, for her to think better of listening in or watching on. Even less time for her to calm the frantic beating of her heart before Yoongi notices her presence and turns his dark eyes on her. His hands stilling momentarily when he spots her.  

But then they go right to your sensitive sides, Where your chest squishes out, and the edge of his smile turns teasing.

“Hey, baby girl. We were just finishing up. You can come in.” You whine petulantly- like the idea of your mate's touches ending is just about the worst thing in the world.

Yoongi isn’t strictly above Tae in the pack hierarchy. Usually, his order wouldn’t hold so much weight. But she finds herself unable to disobey him, slipping through the door almost tripping over her own two feet in her eagerness.

Tae doesn’t like to think of herself as some cheesy clumsy young adult heroine, but it feels like she’s looking at something out of a straight fantasy when she beholds the sight of you again. All your skin, all your bareness just there-

“You might want to shut the door too.” He taunts. You cling to the pillow you hug to your chest, trying not to squirm. “She asked me to leave it open for you. ///Just you.”

Tae flushes hotly, there is no illusion veiling what this is. After your other day in the library room, Tae had dragged Yoongi into your conversation about the next logical step in your relationship. The idea of intimacy while in omega pace isn't something she engages in foolishly. It had taken a fair amount of convincing from you before Tae had conceded.

Fucking someone else’s mate isn’t something Tae takes lightly either but-

But Yoongi knows Tae. He knows that she’s not really capable of just having sex. With her, it’s always sort of making love. No matter if it’s a quickie or a half-day-long affair.

Tae stands there, the barest she’s ever been before anyone, not just in the bodily sense, she's just as vulnerable in her nightdress as you are in omega space. 

No one’s ever touched her when she’s been dressed as herself before. she’s had sex as taehyung, but never as tae. the last few times Jimin’s dragged her in for a kiss have been just that- just kissing and no further. Both of them have been taking it slow. 

But sometimes the slowest changes are the ones that take you the farthest. After your shower today, Yoongi set you out on the bed with his heart in his throat. He's not exactly sure what changed and when. if it was really so gradual that he didn't notice or if the effects of their love compounded all at once.

All he knows is that looking at you during dinner time tonight, he'd realize it was the first time he'd seen you looking truly healthy.  

Healthy- that word feels foreign to him when associated with you. Surviving? sure. Alive? Definitely. Safe? Hopefully. 

But Healthy?

When he’d first met you you'd been little more than cobwebs and death wishes. But you hadn't truly started to look scarily small, too thin to be safe until after. Yoongi tries not to think of those shattered scary months often. When it had been just you and him and you'd hardly moved, hardly spoken at all. When the abuse had threatened to take you from him.

But somewhere between the last few months and now he’s gotten used to seeing you smiling, to hearing your laugh, and seeing you eat.

Yoongi wouldn't be able to say it out loud without bursting into tears. But you’ve gotten a little bit better, enough for him to see it on you when he looks at you.

All of their fussing wasn’t for nothing because now there's a faint glow to your skin, not quite so sallow or washed out. Yoongi just had to touch it and feel it for himself. A warmth in your body that speaks of bone-deep care. Of being loved thoroughly and completely.

The feeling was so addicting that once he’d started touching you he hadn’t been able to stop. And you’d fallen into the shower together- hands hungry as he washed you- and then made you messy (and then washed you again just to touch you more).

Even now, they don’t stop. Yoongi’s hands linger as he watches Tae shut the door and step closer, like she’s worried about spooking you. 

The fact that she's here is a flutter on the edge of your consciousness. Softer needier whines fall from your lips. The sweet scent of Tae nudges your nose like a warm autumn breeze. And you chirp happily- hoping to summon her closer into the nest preferably. You made it all pretty for her and Yoongi, made sure that it was the perfect cradle- so that maybe- she’d be more inclined to-

you keen, “oh pup, so small you can’t even ask for what you want, 

Her scent has been changing subtly over the past few weeks. Since starting the estrogen she’s gotten both spicier and sweeter. When you’re not as deep in omegaspace and as entrenched in your senses you can’t what it is that’s changing. You can’t pinpoint what exactly is making her smell so floral- but now you can place it. 

She smells like cinnamon and Late summer roses.  

She smells so good you can taste her on the back of your throat, she smells so good you want to taste her on your tongue and lap at her scent gland. The dress by your pillow isn’t enough, you want Tae to cling to instead. 

It’s so good you want to roll over onto your tummy and purr. There is an unspoken urge to get your knees under you- to present- to show alpha how good you can be and maybe she’ll-

Yoongi pushes down on the small of your back, stopping you from presenting your hole for breeding with a tsking sound. You squirm and squeak, hiding your face in Yoongi’s thigh. Flustered at being chided by your mate for acting so brazenly.

Although even as he does you sense that he might not really want to stop you. No- that little bit was more about control. You won’t get fucked until your mate lets you, and you certainly won’t get your little hole knotted until he says you’ve been good.  

All of you- all of this- is happening at Yoongi's discretion.  

Something is teeming in him, something more relaxed and more trusting than you’ve ever seen before. And you get the sense that he’s less afraid of giving you more than you can handle. More willing to truly let himself go. That much was evident earlier in the way that he fucked you- unrestrained and unrelenting- like for once he wasn’t worried about breaking you.

His dominant touch had you weak-kneed and whimpering his name- spiraling down into omegaspace so deep that he’d had to carry you from the bath to the bed. 

He’d taken you up against the walls of the shower and ground his cock in deep and thorough. Gasping against your neck that you were doing so well, doing so well for him, taking his length so sweetly with hiccups and wet moans and your hands scratching down his back, digging into his shoulders to hold on. Red lines that Tae can see now cresting over Yoongi’s shoulders. His fingers similarly grabbed at your wet thighs hard enough to bruise- keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted you.

If you’d dripped onto the floor as you came, it had been disguised by the falling water.

His touching now isn’t about sating any physical desire in him; this is something more primal. How many months and days had he spent quietly watching you? Weighing you with his eyes judging if you need more or if mentally it would be too much? And now-

 Now, there's something more under his fingertips. 

The way your body feels is addictive, Everything plush and full- Your thighs and the way that they squish around the arch of your behind. The way they feel when they clamp around his hips or envelop his head- all of it is intoxicating. 

He barely holds back growl after growl, lips lifting from teeth that want to nip and bite. A Nameless instinct neither omega nor alpha that says this deliciousness is his. He can’t claim you any further than he already has and yet-

He can’t decide if he needs to fuck you again or just touch every inch of you and then after that- press his lips to certain places to see if you feel just as supple against his mouth. 

You whine, and there's only one thing you’re whining for- only one thing that will sate you in omegaspace and Yoongi can’t give it.  

He looks at Tae still lingering, still watching. Standing pretty in her lipstick and her barely there dress, watching you like you might be god given to. An alpha, primed and ready to give Yoongi’s mate what she needs- to have her round and swollen like she’s whining for.

She steps closer and something in Yoongi's blood sings. The monster in his chest purring in satisfaction.

Ours.

Nudity among packmates isn’t anything strange, at least- that’s what Tae tells herself as she eyes the inches of exposed skin. Damp and shining a little bit in places. Pajamas for both of you sit folded on the edge of the messy nest completely forgotten.

Tae swallows, arousal thick in her throat. Your mate's hands don’t stop their trail up and down your sides, your back, your shoulders, your neck.  

Once upon a time, these so-called ‘body checks’ were a regular part of the pack’s routine. An act of dominance not dissimilar to grooming but definitely more of an alpha behavior than an omegan one. While Jin’s old grooming rituals might have become a thing of the past in recent months watching Yoongi lavish you with the same amount of care is almost just as good.

It’s not exactly grooming- it’s Making sure their ribs aren’t too sharp, and accounting for every bruise and finger mark from lovemaking. Like they’re checking to make sure every inch of their pack mate is satisfied and happy. It’s checking for hurts and injuries- making sure they’re properly healing.

Tae herself has felt it; the nearly insatiable urge to touch the people who love you and make sure they’re still alive and breathing. Yoongi’s always felt it a little bit more than the rest. His hands wander lower, across your hips, down the meat of your behind-

And almost go to where Tae wants them, where you want them too- judging from the way you lift your hips. Tae watches as your mate pauses and drops little bits of oil onto his hands first, producing a blue glass dropper bottle from somewhere in the tangle of the nest. 

Warming it between his fingers before he strokes up and over your hip and lower back. Taking big handfuls of your body before he lets them go just to watch them jiggle and settle.

Then he does the same thing, just as slow with a pump of lotion.

Tae almost feels sorry for you. This must be torture when you’re quite nearly dripping onto the bed. Yoongi’s not usually so mean but maybe…maybe you like being denied a little too much, being made to wait for a little.  

The edge of the nest sags under her weight as she sits. Her voice is all breathless, searching for something to say- her voice sounds strained even to her own ears. “Did you uhm… have a good shower?” Tae asks because it feels like she should say something even though it’s hard to tear her eyes away from Yoongi’s hands and where they are- teasing the curve of your behind. Every pass brushing closer to where you want him.   

Your cute pussy lips are puffy where they’re pressed between your thighs, the wet fabric clings to them leaving little to the imagination, and Tae’s mouth waters. Her scent going dark with arousal. You part your legs in invitation and answer but-

Yoongi shoves them closed with a clipped growl. Pinching a bruise there in reprimand. Your feet kick out weakly and Tae inhales jaggedly. 

"Little pup doesn't know how to ask for treats nicely, come on sweetheart- remember your manners." You struggle to lift your head, cheek pressed to the nest, eyes utterly gone when you turn to Tae. Forgetting what you wanted to ask for when you see her.

You already look debauched- Lips glossy and bitten, a bruise forming on your neck and your hips. You’re prone and boneless, utterly a pillow princess under Yoongi's hands right now.

Yoongi huffs again, and Tae realizes that he’s hard too. His cock straining up against the black fabric of his Calvin Klein boxers. How often does he have to hold himself back on the regular Tae wonders? With such a tempting mate it would be understandable if he lost control every now and then.

Tae feels like she’s watching that self-control dangle by its last thread.

Tae wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off of you either.

Your pupils are wide and glassy, dilated. Yoongi hums, finally answering Tae’s question. “It was, baby pup got a little worked up though. It's so hard to keep her clean- she loves being messy so much.” You whine, spotting Tae and pressing your face into Yoongi’s hip where his mating mark is, he hisses, and you nuzzle.

Yoongi’s hands tease lower, slide down to your ass to cup the bottom of it, fingers dragging the meat of it to the side, dragging your wrecked panties too, sliding them down until the order is clear and Tae helps guide them down to your ankles. Her manicured hands grip the cotton nearly reverently, just barely skimming your hot skin.

The wet film of slick clinging to them like spiderwebs makes Tae’s mouth water. You’re so wet that when you squirm, slick coats the top of your thighs. Tae feels dizzy when she realizes that it’s not just slick but-

Yoongi dips his fingers, drawing away a silvery white thread of his own cum. The clench of your cunt forces more of it out. 

“I know, what a mate am I- saying it was her who got distracted,” he laughs a little, a tiny bit unhinged, love drunk. “Don’t get all shy on us now pup- you begged for my cum- aren’t you gonna beg for Tae’s too?”

His attention can only last on one part of you for so long- his hands flutter from place to place. His cum drips down to the little nudge of your clit as his hands drift close to the squish of your chest. Your pussy- Tae’s seen before- but your chest-

Tae has only ever let her gaze linger there in passing, has only felt your pillow-like softness when you cuddle, when you hug her close. Only allowed to stare unimpeded by propriety when you wear tank tops to sleep, and they spill softly over the hemline lewdly as you rest.

She watches the bulge of them now, and Yoongi huffs a soft laugh when he catches her staring. “Alpha?” you squeak out, cheeks pink. “Good pup?” you ask. Still too dumb to ask much of anything else.

"That depends" you make Tae feel strong- make her feel like the temptress she is. She looks at you and knows she's allowed to want all of this- all of you. Yoongi would stop her if she wasn’t. 

So she slides the tip of her finger down the curve of your pussy and presses a single finger in, just a little to feel your wetness. You’re so warm- so wet and hot around her finger. A perfect little hole for fucking. You mewl at it, and Tae feels you clench around the intrusion. "Have you done everything Yoongi's said?"

"Yes," you whimper, trying to move your hips back on her finger. she catches your hip, digging her fingers into the dip of it. You’re so empty. Almost painfully so. The need for a knot and a cock building in you. Yoongi’s always been the perfect size but-

But ever since Jungkook has started to tease you with the fake plastic cocks in preparation to take the pack alpha, It’s only started another- more delectable hunger in you, one that not even your mate can sate.

Omegaspace has made you slow and dumb and needy in all the best ways. Your mouth just won’t cooperate to ask for what you want, to ask for a knot.

Words from weeks before run through her head like babbling water over rocks. The first day you’d ever kissed: the first day that Tae ever felt like the woman she now is. In that little thrift store, in that little dressing room that might as well be light years away.

“You aren’t the first alpha to see my body and I’ve had them love it and praise it and hurt it and I'm not afraid of you doing any of those things Tae.”

Tae isn’t just any alpha. She’s your alpha now. 

She trails her hand up the cleft of your ass and to your spine, drawing small circles with her fingers. You arch your back pushing up into the touch like a cat. A low purring fills the room, soothing the very last of Tae’s frayed senses.

Letting her see you in omeaspace like this is the most vulnerable trust you could place in her, the only thing next to this you could give her is letting her into your heat nest with you. She doesn’t know why she’d thought to worry, what had ever made her question if you were ready for this. 

Because she definitely is. Her heart isn’t the problem even if it skips frantically in her chest at the sight of the red marks on your lower back. The scars have turned red and angry from the heat of the shower.

They glisten with a faint film of scar cream and the same container she uses on the scar under your jaw every night sits on your bedside table next to a glass of water. She understands why you only ever have Yoongi touch those. She does her best not to linger over them. 

There are other plusher parts of you that she's far more interested in that won't plunge you into a panic attack. Other- healthier delights.

It kind of takes Tae’s breath away. The same way it hit Yoongi earlier it hits her now.

Gone are the harsh ridges beneath your chest, the jut of your ribs like rungs of a ladder. The bowlike curve of your collarbones is so much less sharp.

And your thighs. Fuck. 

Tae might barely let a growl when Yoongi’s hands start working down your love handles- intending on using them to do just that. They dimple under his fingertips like dough.  

But nothing’s changed more than your chest and stomach, gone is the taut plane of your belly button, now- it’s soft and plush. You hide most of it with the pillow you still cling to. Hiding your chest too when Yoongi softly maneuvers you onto your back.

Tae’s teeth ache just looking at you. You bury your face in it, hiding only to pop back up and watch her, hiding your mouth. She knows you can scent her on the air, the want warming her cinnamon. 

It’s a sore spot for you. Tae sees how uncomfortable you are with your stomach every time Yoongi's hands get close, you hug that pillow harder to your chest trying to twist away. 

Tae see’s Yoongi’s façade falter just a little- If you only knew how much he loves that part of you- the softness that’s grown on you is a mark of how healthy Yoongi is keeping you. How he’s finally being a good mate. 

Yoongi tugs at the corner of the pillow playfully. “You can have this for now. But I’m coming for your cute tummy.” Yoongi rarely uses baby talk when he’s talking to you in omegaspace, but now it has the desired effect. You giggle and hide behind the pillow once more. Anxieties eased, the tension in your body relaxing.

He turns his eyes on Tae, veritable weapons with how they make her squirm, “I’m coming for you too, why don’t you get in the nest honey.” It’s easy to follow Yoongi’s orders, easy to pull herself up to your side and flop over the border of your carefully fluffed nest. She dips her fingers into your sides to test the waters. You turn, eyes wide and unsure, like your thoughts and sensations are too much to sift through, quietly overwhelmed in the best way possible.

Your grip on the pillow eases, and Yoongi takes it away gently. You don’t know what to do with your hands, don’t know what to do other than try and hide. Yoongi doesn't let you, grabbing your wrists. Shushing away your whines with gentle noises of approval.

“There we go pup, let us see you here. Show Taetae how cute your tits are. I know she wants to see them. Be a good pup and let her touch you.” Tae can’t do anything, can only stare. She knows she's being creepy. Her lips are parting, cheeks pinking.

They’ve gotten bigger too, as you put on weight, a good amount of it went there, they sit on your chest, devine and feminine and everything in between. 

She wants to get her body all over them. Fuck. At first, she thought when she finally saw your chest- the biggest object of her own dysphoria- that maybe she’d be more jealous than aroused.  But now you squirm and they jiggle.

The ache in Tae’s jaw increases tenfold, cock jumping under the thin fabric of her skirt.

The dark shadow of your areola. The stiff peaks of your nipple dusky rose. Beautiful in a way she didn’t anticipate, glistening a little from your shower still.

You tilt your face searching hopelessly for something for your mouth to do, you feel so empty, and now that Tae’s here. You turn away from Yoongi your body moving before she’s got a chance to stop you as you lie your body across hers. Your chest squishes skin separated from hers just barely by a simple bit of silk. she lets out a little squeak- like she wasn't expecting it.

“Oh honey, are you needy for your Taetae?” Yoongi teases, content to use this as an opportunity to get you half-seated in his lap. Even as the wetness between your thighs drags against Tae’s leg, half cum and half slick. Your legs tangled all together. 

Tae feels more than watches as Yoongi slowly drags his clothed cock across the cleft of your ass, eyes wide as marbles when he ruts forward, imitating what you want.

Tae’s cheeks are flaming, on fire, like the sun has planted its rays there as you nuzzle into the front of her dress. Rubbing your cheek stubbornly over her shoulder, scent marking your alpha as she sits in your nest. Your mind is so full of her- your mouth too when you suckle at the hollow of her throat, lips tempted towards her scent gland, those sensitive inches of skin where she smells the strongest. So heady and so alpha that it has you leaking fresh slick onto Yoongi's thigh.

Her lips part in a gasp, She smells sweeter the more you nibble, you bite down a little, only softly- just teething and testing her skin. Tae's scent fluffs up wildly, dizzyingly aroused. Her hard cock pressed between your stomach and hers.

“Want- want-“ you fumble with your words, brain too syrupy slow. But you know they’ll take care of you. Sitting back against Yoongi's thighs.

You place her hand on your tummy, and she feels the heat beneath your skin, the want and ache there.

“Mommy here. Please?” you ask politely. So eager to be good. 

Yoongi curses and Tae can’t keep herself from looking at him. Flushing hotly all the way down to the tip of her toes at your slip-up.

You'd never called her that name in front of anyone else before. Although everyone had heard about you calling Jin daddy (and that word was now free fodder for teasing between the whole pack, Jungkook in particular- is fond of calling Jin daddy when he's angry). This was your secret until now.

Yoongi licks at his canines like he can already taste the word on his tongue.

Yoongi opens his mouth once, twice, but for once he’s out of words. Running a hand through his hair, grinning at her. “Mommy Tae? Really? First Jin and now you?”

She hides her face in her hands but you nibble at them, unable to put a finger on why you don’t want her to do that (she's too pretty- shouldn't be covered) but willing to bite to communicate.

She stares down at you, but her palm and fingers sate your oral fixation- suddenly more intent on lapping at them. your tongue, a little rough, lapping at her skin. Your absolutely infinitesimal bit of omega space-brain is occupied by her her her- not the slip up or your mate's teasing grin.

When she pulls her hand away you try to follow it like a puppy following a pull toy. You follow it all the way into her lap.

Yoongi pulls your hair back from your face gently, "why don't you show mommy how well you can kiss pup, go on."

For what it's worth, Tae at least tries to let the kiss start out sweet.

But your little kittenish licks quickly grow hungry. Your chest presses to hers, warming the inches of skin. Your hand's fist in the front of her dress tugging it to fall improperly until the stiff peak of your nipple presses to hers and-

Tae snarls, the frayed line of control that Tae has over her instincts dissipating in an instant. It has her flipping you over onto your back landing amongst the colorful layers of your nest. Letting out a quiet squeak, Yoongi’s half-drunk laughter drowning it out. The fucking instigator of it all. 

The second she puts her lips around the apex of your chest, she knows she'll be addicted to them until the end of time.

There's something about the warmth and the softness, having all of you and your heartbeat so close. Nose pressed in- burying her face in them- As she sucks and sucks and sucks. Hands hungry as they take big handfuls and squeeze. Tugging sweat-mewling sounds from your mouth.

She tries not to be rough, to pepper kisses up and down them in between her nibbles and bites but her instincts are just too strong. You squeak when Tae drags her teeth across your nipple and bites. leaving lipstick marks too, rings of bruises and pink.

She finds every spot she likes and bites.

There are many many spots.

It takes minutes before the ache in her jaw and canines are sated, and by the time she pulls back, there are already bruises forming. Small semi circles like barely opened flowers.

She looks a little disheveled above you, lipstick all smudged half across her face but mostly on your chest. She goes right back to sucking. Big alpha hands holding your shoulders down. Sliding to cup them. To cup your sides, a growl vibrates your nipple.

Such a good omega- so warm and swollen here- a hidden darker instinct breathes and lives in Tae. whispering forbidden things, So good for pups, so healthy for them- have to- have to breed- have to knot-

“Mommy’s gonna mark you all pretty, make you look all claimed.” Yoongi croons above you, running a hand through your wet hair and holding your face so that you don't try and look down at her and impede her artistic process. Yoongi keeps your eyes just on him as Tae sucks. Your mate grins, leaning down close to you, voice going a little softer.

“I want to see the look in your eyes when she knots you sweetheart- you have to promise me you won’t look away.” 

“Promise.” You squeak out.

“Good pup, now be still and let Mommy taste you.”

Tae isn’t used to seeing Yoongi this dominant, but she can’t say she doesn’t like it when that falls from his mouth, that it doesn’t have her cheeks heating. her cock jumping at the idea of a knot. Your mate watches your expression melt more, the more attention that Tae gives to your chest. It's- it's so much more sensitive than you thought.

(She's going to suck them so sensitive you won't even be able to wear a bra tomorrow. Until you won't be able to tolerate even the softest of fabrics brushing up against them. Who knows maybe you'll even hug one of the others- Jungkook or Namjoon or Jin- and hiss at the contact. Maybe they’ll want to see why you’re so sensitive, ruck your shirt up and see the mess tae made of you. Curious fingers pinching meanly until they have a taste for themselves.)

You move your hips in slow small circles, grinding down inarticulately on the generous thickness tenting the fabric of Tae’s dress. A wet dark patch that’s more from you than her coloring the pink silk darker. All she’d have to do is drag it to the side and you’d be rubbing your pussy along her cock. Fucking your little clit up and down her shaft.  

It’s too hard to think about everything happening to you while you're in omegaspace. So you just don’t. You let yourself float and be manhandled, let them take care of you. The delicious burn pain pleasure of her mouth and teeth, the small squeaks of mommy please that fall from your lips simple background noise.

Tae hasn’t seen Yoongi like this in months, predatory and sure of his movements. She soothes each bite with a kiss. Looking up at him each time her teeth dig.  

By the time she moves on from your chest, your nipples are puffy and pink and glossy. The sweet smell of slick smarts at her nose. And she can’t even kiss them without you whining and starting to sniffle.  

 “Too sensitive, S’ too much, mommy mean-“.

“Let me see baby” Yoongi slides his hands down, cupping your chest before rolling your nipples between his fingers, and your back arches. Nearly thrashing if Tae wasn’t holding you down with the weight of her body, reeling against the overstimulation.

 But you have other inches of skin that sit unmarked, unclaimed, and unworshipped by Tae’s teeth.

So, she keeps going. Maybe it's like Yoongi's grooming- only Tae needs to do it with her teeth.

She peppers hickey after hickey across your stomach and thighs, leaving her bruises next to the ones that Yoongi left. her teeth sliding along the slick stained portion of your inner thighs and fuck- you really do taste good, an addictive hum-like white noise that has Tae biting again. Alpha brain slick dumb.  sure she's getting it from the bite and not your slick. 

Your mate above you kisses you too. swallowing your little pleas and whimpery whines. And then when she's finally left your legs and hips and stomach aflush with kiss and bite marks. She starts to pull your knees to your chest so that she can lick and kiss and suck where she knows you need her.

But before she can get face to face with your pussy but you squirm, tucking your hips to the side. Hiccupping through your protest. 

“No- want knot- want-” 

Even in omegaspace you know what the alphas getting their mouth on your means. Even Yoongi rarely ever fucks you after- claiming you’re too sleepy or too sensitive for it- and now-

The cock you want- the knot you want- is right there- right between Tae’s legs and you want that more than you want her mouth.

Yoongi guides you to rest your cheek on his thigh, cradling your cheek softly and calming your hiccups with long strokes down your neck. "What a good pup," He croons, "Telling us what you want. Are you ready for mommy to give you your reward? It’s a big reward too- might not fit in your cute little cunt.”

The spaghetti strap of her dress has fallen down her shoulders, and Yoongi fiddles with it after a moment, he sets it back where it belongs despite his earlier threats to the contrary.

It’s more than just settling Tae's jumpiness with the calmness in his eyes. It’s permission. Permission to fuck you and permission to do it the way Tae needs to. There’s a reason why she hasn’t taken off her dress-

Tae is still mostly a boy under it. The fact that female alphas also have cocks is the only thing that’s keeping this from being truly dysphoria-inducing (the dress and you- because the dysphoria is only ever a distant threat in your presence)

It's only fitting that you take her virginity like this. Not virginity in the classic sense. But to have her first time having sex as a woman be with you and Yoongi-

Yoongi cups her cheeks. Tae's heart is so heavy with it that she almost wants to stop.

But honestly, her cock is heavier and wetter between her thighs, burning sensitive where it rubs against the silk, begging for that cute pink hole between your legs. Your thighs tremble where you lie blinking up at them close to tears at being denied for so long. 

You sniffle, the wetness on your waterline threatening. So overwhelmed and so small but so safe between the two of them.

“Mommy-“

Tae’s done for. She settles between your thighs and there's the brief question of condoms but Yoongi just shakes his head. She doesn’t need to use them outside of your heat, especially given your condition- there’s little risk of you getting pregnant. 

The glossy cleft of your cunt tempts her as she drags her fingers through it. You grab her hands, perhaps a little more cognizant as you lace your fingers together, holding her hand.

The same hand that lifted makeup to her face for the first time, that showed her how to do her hair. That first taught her what dresses were supposed to look like and how they were supposed to sit on her. The same hands that she reaches for when she doesn't feel like herself, the hands that love her for her, even when it feels like that's impossible.  

Tae lifts your hand to her mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“Wanna- want it slow, soft like pup,” you say, glassy eyes imploring Tae. “Want to feel it but- Please? Please mommy?”

“Of course, baby,” she says. And in tandem she and Yoongi shift, Yoongi cups your cheek and slides his thumb between your lips to give you something to suck on. Settling to the side (before you start to feel bad for him- just know that watching his two favorite girls fuck is quite literally a dream cum true. There will be more than enough time to partake later. Yoongi doesn’t want to miss a second of your first time).

Only after a nod from Yoongi does she slowly guide her cock home. There are tentative seconds where she presses, and you start to pull off of her- and then like sweet relief, her cock settles inside.

It’s surprisingly easy of a fit, Tae is the second largest in the pack- small only to Namjoon who’s a good inch or two larger during a rut. But Your hole has already been fucked open a little bit. Tae feels her cock pushing away the last of Yoongi’s cum, making the slide wetter (not that you really need it, all the teasing earlier has you dripping)

She needs to calm her breathing when she slides fully in, hands shaking as they settle on the smallest part of your waist. She rests there for a few seconds.

Yoongi helps so much, pulling up Tae’s skirt, soothing your shaking with his hands. Licking his lips as he glimpses your flushed entrance parting taught around Tae’s big pink cock. “Look at how pretty mommy looks knocking you up pup.”

“Oh,” you say, tears finally spilling over your cheeks as your body compromises to the pressure and lets her in. 

Tentatively Tae rocks forward, just a little, not taking her cock out too far. Your breath hitches. and tears fall again, spilling unashamed over your cheeks. “That’s a good pup, take mommy’s cock just like that.” Tae groans, throwing her head back, unabashed to admit that she might be close to cumming just from hearing that name on Yoongi’s tongue again.

Before Jungkook helped open you up for Namjoon, you might not have been able to take a cock this big. The taught skin of your entrance hugs her cock, and she growls at the tightness- which turns into a feral snarl when she sinks in just a little deeper and that tight ring of muscle slides over the sensitive skin at the base where her knot will form.

“Mommy’s so…big” it’s true- you can feel her pushing away the soreness that Yoongi left earlier. Pushing away everything to make herself fit in you. So deep and long and thick you know you'll feel her inside for days after.

You’re so wet, wet enough with cum and your own slick that it makes a noise when she really starts to fuck you. She sinks in as deep as she can go, the head of her cock kissing some long untouched place inside of you. Nudging just against something very hard and very sensitive.

A place that if you were in heat, Tae might be able to fuck into. 

She just tucks you against her chest, drawing you closer as she starts to move her hips faster and faster, still going just as deep. She chases the feeling of the head of her cock nudging up against your cervix. She knows she doesn’t look pretty- that her makeup all wrecked, and hell- you probably won’t even stop to take it off once you’re done. But It's intense, the way you work with her- two bodies but one goal in mind.

Yoongi bends over your forms, pressing a kiss to the nape of Tae’s neck.

Tae buries her face in your chest to keep from letting the emotion overwhelm her, hiding the few tears that she might let slip. This- I get to have this. 

She'd never admit it to you or Jimin or anyone- but maybe this is what she's been missing, the reason why she'd never felt the need to develop her dynamic with the others, why she’d never felt dominant or submissive. Maybe what she was missing was you.

She sits back on her knees and looks down at you, eyes flinty in the dark. Nostrils flaring at your scent. She wants you in a way she's never wanted anyone else, wants you to stay just like that until she's brought you to tears. Until you're squirting and begging around her knot. Until you can’t take anymore.

She picks up the pace, pulling back almost entirely before she buries herself in you again. The sound of it wet and loud. So loud that the others can probably hear it across the hall.  And if they can’t hear that they will certainly be able to hear her snarl. 

Tae wants them to hear, wants them to know how she makes you squeal and whimper.  Wants them to listen in at the door like she was and hear you say her name-

“Mommy feels so good. Love mommy’s cock, good pup?” you babble, “m’ good pup?”

Yoongi drags a hand down your cheek, soothing you even as his other hand works at his cock between his thighs. “Yes baby- Such a good pup taking mommy so well, can you cum on her cock sweetheart? I know she wants to see it; I know she wants to feel you get all tight around her and milk her knot, don’t you want to be a good omega for her.” 

“Mommy knot pup’s tummy? please?” you ask, even as Tae nudges that spot inside of you, You sob freely, and Tae’s tongue darts forward to lick at your wet cheeks.  

Tae hums, feeling a little feral, a creature that she never knew existed lumbering below her skin.  “Hmm, I don’t know” she thrust into you so hard you know there will be more bruises on your ass from her hip bones in the morning. So hard you yelp and get pushed up, more onto Yoongi’s stomach than his thigh, his cock brushing your cheek.  

“Should I cum here” she bends to kiss a mark she left just over your heart.  “Here?” she asks, biting down on your puffy nipple. "Or here?" she bites your mating mark- making Yoongi hiss. Tae knows how he looks when he’s about to cum, cheeks flushed, lip bitten, hand moving quickly.

“How about here?” she says, pressing her thumb meanly down on your clit. Making you jerk. "Want me to mark you and make Joonie mad again? he’s already gonna be furious when he finds out I’ve made a mess of his omega. Do you like the sound of that baby? Both of us fighting over who has the right to breed you?” She leans in close, nibbling at the shell of your ear. 

"Between you and me, I think I'd win. I'd call you cute and you'd bend right over and let me do this as many times as I wanted." 

Neither of you lasts much longer- although Yoongi holds out, You fuck at a maddening pace. Her knot starting to get all taught, the pleasure overwhelming her until her hips stutter. She leans forward, the urge to bite again overcoming her.

She leaves a big bruise on the other side of your neck opposite Yoongi’s mating mark. And the feeling of being bitten on your sensitive scent gland has you cumming, sobbing, and clinging to her as your orgasm rushes over you.   

Tae's knot starts to pop and you squirt weakly between the two of you, wetting Tae's stomach in a hot heady gush. She only manages a few deep thrusts before her knot has expanded so big that she can't pop it free anymore- and has to settle for just rocking it in. The feeling of something so close to your sweet spot rubbing, as she grinds in as deep as she can. Your orgasm feels like it won’t ever end. 

You clench again, squirting a second time- just weakly, a little trickle- the wet patch on the front of her dress is honestly a little obscene. She starts to cum, hot ropes of it that fill you up so so quickly. There’s not enough space in your pussy with Tae occupying every available inch. 

You continue to cry, as you spiral down and down. Mommy’s so big, filling you up so well, mommy’s cock is my favorite cock. Love mommy so much. you're not sure what exactly slips past your lips and what doesn't. You feel so full. So full that you think you might notice something more there when you put a hand down there, a faint bulge in your tummy where Tae is, where she’s filling you full of her cum. 

You’re going to be so wet and messy with it when she pulls out fucked so open that you won't be able to keep it safe inside. You bet the others will be able to smell it on you for days. Yoongi’s fingers rub your tummy in smooth gentle circles. Pressing down until both of you start to protest.

“There you go pup, keep mommy’s knot nice and safe in your little pussy sweetheart. You did so well- so good- fuck-” 

You barely even notice the hot ropes of your mate's cum dripping from his hand onto your chest as he milks the head of his cock and his orgasm with efficient rolls of his hand. A little gets on your cheek, but Yoongi’s release mostly lands on your mating mark.

This is the second time Yoongi’s cum tonight, and he hisses through the sensitivity. There's not much cum- but a single wet line of it drips down your chest. 

Tae leans forward, drunk on the two of you, and laps at it. Laps at it until Yoongi’s hand sinks into her hair and he pulls her up for a sloppy cummy kiss. She sighs eyelashes fluttering. You’re already dozing tucked to her chest, Tae’s cock twitches inside you and you whine, clamping down on her knot again.

Yoongi grins, nuzzling into Tae’s shoulder. 

“I think we might need another shower.” 

In the morning there will be sunlight streaming through the windows and more than enough time to meticulously wash every item in your nest (Jungkook might help you do it). In the morning you’ll wake pressed chest to chest- with her still inside of you, dozing in the sunlight and purring like a cat. Sore and bruised but sated. 

You might not want to be parted even then, might just want to tuck your head below the blankets and sleep off the ache between your thighs. Tae will let you- Tae will stay as close as you want for as long as you need. Maybe that’s all the aftercare either of you needs. 

Although that doesn’t mean she’ll do nothing- Maybe she’ll ask Yoongi for something to keep her occupied. Just a pen and paper, just a way for her to get her sweet spiraling thoughts out. the poem she writes will be one of her favorites- 

On the best of days, I am convinced that Sappho made you for me. That she learned from Pygmalion and wrote you just so, the same way he lovingly cleaved Galatea from marble and stone. 

 She wrote you in violet ink, lingered on the edge of every line, and heart-dotted every I. Sappho says love her, love her in all the best ways, in the way she needs and the ways she doesn't. love her so hard she takes it for granted- just as the moon take the sun rising for a rule.

Come to me when you are cold, so that I might love you and make you warm. Let me love you until there is no more space in my chest and my swelling heart breaks ribs Until it cleaves me from stone and I am made perilously alive by venus- made alive by loving you.  

For I have no other choice, nothing could be as painful as losing you. 

Tomorrow morning, Tae will write the poem. She’ll even leave it out for the whole pack to read. 

But for now, she wraps her arms around you, kisses your forehead, and goes to sleep. 

 ~-~

(The following evening, Hobi) 

Hobi can only contain his excitement and bad ideas for so long. 

It’s nearing midnight when he finally ceases his listless shifting from side to side. He's Jumpy- in a way that he usually isn’t during pack mandated movie nights. The popcorn is already finished by the time his bad ideas have nearly taken flight. Half of the pack is already asleep in the nest. 

The night is quiet, everyone is home, and everyone is safe.

That alone should be enough for his alpha instincts. It would be enough any other night, but tonight something wild in his chest just won't stay leashed, teeth gnashing and mind loud. 

Those who aren’t yet asleep warm the house with sounds of them getting ready for sleep, soft giggles, and the sound of the shower running upstairs. In the nest, Namjoon’s got his head bent at an uncomfortable angle snoring softly with Jin tucked close to his shoulder, eyes drooping as he looks at his phone. 

Hobi stops by your bedroom door finding your mate lying on his back with Tae folded like a pressed flower into his side. One side of your bed vacant, empty, and no light coming from underneath the bathroom door either. 

 Hobi’s instincts are restless, nose lifting, searching for the one scent he can’t immediately locate. He shuts the light off closes the door to your bedroom and follows the smell of sweet things. On the hunt. 

He finds you in the kitchen, mixing up something brown and chocolaty looking in a Pyrex cup. A little container of pink sprinkles and a carton of ice cream there too- Clad for all intents and purposes like you’ll go to bed soon too. The extra-large pink sweatshirt of Jin’s falls to your upper thigh, little bruises winking there from the day prior. proudly proclaiming across the front Alphas want me, Fish fear me.

Those bruises that the whole pack had investigated thoroughly this morning. Namjoon had practically condemned you to his lap, fingers teasing at the bruises on your thighs, yanking up the hem of your shirt to see your tummy too. Tae had left you looking so thoroughly claimed, legs shaking so bad that she almost had to carry you to the breakfast table.

Tae might have been a little bit smug at that. You simply tucked yourself into Namjoon's shoulder and went back to sleep. You Let Jinnie run his fingers through your re-damp hair. Fingers teasing- examining- nearly purring. Exchanging little kisses for bites of food. 

Everyone knows how omega's glow after they've been knotted. The sweeter, relaxed edge to their scents that has even the most possessive alpha feeling docile. The pack where content to bask in it. Eventually, you were the one who stepped away, detangling yourself from their paws. Whiney "if you guys keep touching me I'm gonna be in omega space all day and-" 

Maybe Hobi had watched that, a tight tingly feeling of satisfaction building. Aren't packmates supposed to want their omegas to be happy? Aren't they supposed to make sure they're satisfied? 

You hum when you see him by the door. Legs not quite as shakey. A happy sound not unlike one of Noodles' little hello chirps. 

Hobi can't help but look at them and hope they didn't hurt too bad. Even though he knows that bruises and marks during sex can be something you ask for (he's begged for them himself on more than one occasion). But looking at them on you feels...less okay.  

Your sleeves are pushed up to your elbows, and there's a small different mark, more pink than purple. A burn from cooking on the inside of your wrist. It bugs him- Hobi doesn't know why it bugs him. Why do his eyes hover on that mark when he watches you?

Suddenly it strikes him that your body in this house that perhaps the only body he doesn’t know.

“What are you doing?” he blurts, trying not to stare.

“Cravings” you shrug, giving the mug one more stir, adding a few more chocolate chips before you put it in the microwave. Hobi doesn't say that he's definitely never seen you get a midnight snack before, that he's never seen you eating willingly before, on your own, without anyone around.

"What some?" you offer, voice soft. "It's just a mug cake cuz I'm feeling too lazy to actually bake- I can make you one if you want."

The cake in a cup goes around the carrousel, and Hobi feels like his head is spinning too. “No” he says, because looking at you, he knows that cake and sweet treats aren’t what he wants right now.

The microwave dings and you take the now fully inflated cake out, it's a bit of a marvel how quickly you put something like that together, the chocolate is glossy and drippy. mixing with the vanilla ice cream you scoop out.

You look up at him, eyes flashing a little. The chocolate on your spoon drips molten into the cup. The overhead light buzzing menacingly. You raise your eyebrows at him- and Hobi realizes that's what he'd been hunting for.

“You look like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.”

“I might,” he admits, shoving his hands into his pockets. Fiddling with the car keys already in his pocket. “Want to go for a drive?”

You lean your hands on the counter considering him. The half-light wild to his eyes, the thing that beckons.

play with me- come on just- play with me.

You hum around your spoonful, and Hobi finds his eyes hovering on that spoon. 

“Did You already tell Namjoon?”

 “He’s asleep” Hobi doesn’t need to say that you can leave regardless. There are only a few places open at this hour but Hobi’s not hungry for food or the open road. They won't really care, even if Hobi knows that if they wake while you're gone they might go into a bit of a panic.  

Seems risky, the quirk of your mouth seems to say. 

Take the risk with me, his eyes ask.

You’re barely smiling and Hobi knows he’s won.

You break out onto the driveway, your boots thudding and casting gravel to unseen shores, as you giggle together, knit tight shoulder to shoulder. Shooting each other conspiring glances. too kids sneaking out to do something you shouldn’t. 

The light in the pack’s bedroom flips on as you pull out, he makes sure not to turn on his lights until he's halfway down the street. Hobi grins as you roll down the window eyeing your bare thighs as he puts the heat on high. The wind rushing through your hair is more important than saving gas.

Hobi turns on the music, a playlist, and a song already queued up. He made this one while he was at work today. Already distantly aware that he'd need it tonight, that he'd need it for you sooner or later.  

Courting presents can look like all sorts of things. For you and Hobi it might look like this playlist.

Hobi needs this, the air streaming through the car. The smell of crunchy leaves and autumn acorns. You finish your chocolate mug cake and put it in the back. the spoon clattering in it every now and then. The rumble thunder bite of gasoline in his nostrils burns with your scent. You have a full tank of gas and nowhere to go. 

Your smile is something that he'd put in his pocket and bring home if he were at the ocean and you were a piece of sea glass. 

But you don't go to the beach tonight. Tonight you drive for a long time. Or at least it feels like a while. In reality it’s only a thirty-minute drive out from the edge of suburbia and into the rocky hilly farmland. The no man's land between your city and the next. 

There are pockets of nice houses, upscale farms, and smaller shittier ones that have to be decades old. But slowly the car starts to chug, nose pointing upwards and you pull yourselves onto higher ground. Winding through hills that get rockier and rockier. The road curves sharply, banking. making your stomach drop- and you’re not even going that fast. 

Yet.

Eventually, the car slows at the top of the hill. More of a mountain really, with its rocky crags and tangle of trees. 

Hobi's eyes are far away when you look at him, he doesn't even bother to put on his hazards as he slows. There is no one here on these backroads. The lights of a few houses but mostly dark. 

“There’s this loop, Jimin and I used to drive it a lot when- when things were new. Back when I couldn’t sleep.” Hobi doesn’t say why he couldn’t sleep- that nightmares of his last pack kept him awake. That often he’d rouse from the tiny cot in the packs spare room that he was sleeping in- a friend still and not a lover yet. That he’d wake to Tae and Jimin by the door, other alphas woken by his sleepy whines of distress. 

He’d never needed to ask, but somehow he’d always known that Namjoon and Jin had sent them. Back at the beginning Hobi was a little resistant to their affection even though he so clearly needed it. It was easier for him to accept Jimin and Tae if only because they were so close and so clearly soulmates that his own presence didn’t feel like too much of a threat. 

Back then, the words of his last pack had felt far closer. “You always fuck things up Hobi- I can’t trust you to do anything- to not flirt with everything that moves.” 

“Tae and Jungkook would come sometimes too, Yoongi would come the most, but it would always scare them how fast Jimin would try to go so- we'd just go together most of the time."

You nod, understanding. Fear is more of a comfort than a threat for you, Jimin, and Hobi. At least the fear that you choose to endure and not the fear that the world inflicts upon you. 

Hobi rests his head back against the rest huffing out a warm breath. Without the wind whipping at you, the heat inside of the car is almost stifling. He doesn't complain; You like it cozy.

"He’d take me out here. We must have almost crashed on these roads a hundred times.” hobi taps at the steering wheel “I've wanted to take you out here since you gave me this car." He confesses. 

Jimin has always been a bit of a wild driver, you can't imagine what his drive for adrenaline would produce paired with a basically non-existent speed limit and a winding back road.

Your eyes reflect the streetlight, the only ones at the top of this rocky crag, the unofficial starting point. Your eyes look dark and flinty in the half-light. There’s no moon tonight and that's better for cops. The whole time you’ve been parked here there hasn’t been a single car that’s passed.

Hobi reaches over, tucks his fingers into your seat belt, and checks to make sure that it's already engaged. You pretend you don't flush when his fingers brush the bare skin of your collar bones and throat.

You watch him, not saying anything. 

He licks his lips, and puts the car back in drive. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to show me?” 

The engine roars, rattling your bones your very sole. The car shoots like a bullet- and Hobi takes the corners like a hairpin. He gets to a speed that feels just dangerous enough to be exhilarating.

And when he risks a glance at you he finds you grinning, bobbing in the seat with every minute shift of the road. The seatbelt keeps you pinned and safe. Your laughter drowned out by the roar of the engine. You're at the bottom before you've ever really even begun. Hair wild, grinning. Your chest is heaving, and Hobi re-starts the loop without thought. Turning and going back up. 

"holy fuck"

Hobi's grin says enough, and he gets less wild when he pulls back to the top, intent on making another turn of it- but all too soon you're reaching for your seatbelt.

The car jerks to a stop, "What are you doing?" He asks. You close the door and lean through the window. 

"What? You thought I wouldn't want a turn? Come on let me try-"

Hobi pauses for half a breath before he gingerly undoes his own seatbelt. he tries not to let his preconceived notions show but when you get in the front seat- you know where everything is. Adjusting the seat so you can see over the wide hood of the car better. The only thing that's not where it's supposed to be is Hobi's own seatbelt. Which he obediently clicks and locks closed when you send him an expectant look. You note his trepidation.

“What you thought that I was a passenger princess through and through?”

He grins, a little chided but admits it, “okay but you have to admit you’re sort of are a princess with everything- come on you know I mean that in like- the best way.” 

You pout, but it’s all playful. If princesses wear only baggy coordinated pajama sets then you’re the most princess princess of them all. And besides, you do admit that you haven’t been forthcoming with him. You'd only ever told him that this car was your ex-husband's.

Not that it was yours too. 

You're so short that you're basically pressed up against the steering wheel. "I only said that I didn’t like to drive- not that I wasn’t good at it.”

It only takes three seconds of you putting the pedal to the floor for Hobi to realize that- shit- you’re not playing around at all.

You’re a better driver than him, a better driver than Jimin even.

You take the turns faster and hug the edges in a way that Hobi didn’t know you could. You turn the wheel at just the right moment, jerking it so that the drift just barely catches around the second turn. Three more tries and you'll probably have it mastered. 

Tires screeching, heart pounding. Taking you 40, then 50. The only person who's ever gone 60 on this road is Jimin, and it nearly triggered an incident that left them both substantially scared and had put a pause on their drag racing dates almost for good. 

But Hobi sees the speedometer push 71 miles per hour as you clear the straight away. Almost tripling the speed limit.

When the momentum and engine finally chugs at the bottom of the hill he's laughing just like you were only harder. Laughing like he’s spitting up every bad thing that’s ever happened to him- the kind of laughter that pushes at his ribcage and makes his heart beat frantically in his chest. The wildness and freedom clinging to his lungs like oxygen- like this to is something Hobi needs to survive.

So what if it's stupid and dangerous and childish to speed- both of you have struggled so hard- to be free and now- 

His body jumps from adrenaline in the best way, hair a sweaty tangle falling over his forehead as he breathes hard. Tasting gasoline on the back of his tongue.

“Who the fuck taught you how to drive like that?” Your body relaxes where it went taught, and you won't let it spoil the mood, not if you can help it.

“My small dicked ex-husband.”

Hobi throws his body across the armrest laughing harder. You rest your head across the back of the seat, grinning too. Fingers itching, tempted towards his hair again just like last week.

“I can have things he taught me that I still enjoy,” you say, but you don’t have to prove that to Hobi. Both of you know that the sweetest way to heal is by reclaiming memories. There are songs that Hobi still can’t listen to from that time in his life as well. even though they’re his favorite. 

You don't tell Hobi the story of how the first time you'd gone 100 it had been your first date. That your ex had taken one look at that freeness in you and decided right then that it was pretty enough to be caged. You don’t tell him that after a few late night drives just like this he'd threatened to crash the car if you didn't do what he wanted. 

He’d spoiled you with many cars, including this one. But he’d never once let you drive them without very very careful instructions. Eventually, he stopped letting you drive at all- had chopped up the license he’d helped you get, and only went fast to threaten you. 

"so help me god I'm going to crash this fucking car if you don't tell me the name of the pig alpha you've been sleeping with- I know you're cheating on me- you think you can do that and survive slut? You want to make a fool of me in front of everybody?" 

And Hobi handed over his keys so thoughtlessly.

You don't feel like this joy is in any way due to him right now, this is yours and Hobi’s joy. Your hands tighten on the steering wheel. You're mine Hobi, this is ours. I won’t let him ruin it, even if it's just the memory.

Hobi runs a hand through his hair, looking at you, watching you as you breathe, your chest moves, exhaling again like you’d held your breath the whole way down. 

“Have you and Jimin ever timed the loop?” You ask as you start to turn up the hill, going slower but still ten miles over the speed limit.

"No."

You do time it. Going round and round for what feels like hours, brake lights bleeding down the hill like red stars. The playlist gives you about a song every loop. You start at 2 minutes to the bottom and by the time the clock strikes midnight, you've got it down to a minute 30. Hobi's pretty close to that, he gets just under 1 minute 40 seconds as a text chimes through.

Namjoonie: 1:48: Where are you guys? 

Somewhere good, somewhere great Hobi wants to reply but doesn't because he feels like if he takes his hands off the steering wheel for a second then tonight will vanish as a good dream.

You start the loop again and Hobi can't resist glancing at you. Hair whipping, looking at you feels like he's won something.

When Hobi looks back at the road, there are a pair of glowing eyes in the middle of it.

Jerking the wheel is instinctual- but he’s going too fast to avoid it. Jimin has lectured him a million times about not breaking for small animals. Anything smaller than a deer isn’t worth breaking for when you’re going too fast to control the car because you stand the risk of spinning out.   

Hobi sees the next few moments in slow motion, and feels the seconds like they’re minutes and the milliseconds like they’re death rattles.

The feel of the car as it banks much too fast, wheels screeching as he slams on the brakes, the wheels sliding on the too-smooth road when he jerks it out of instinct. 

The loss of traction that sends the car not around the bend of the road but straight and off of it. there are a few moments where you're airborne, before the car fishtails on the grass jolting back in the direction of the road before it narrowly misses a tree and- 

The breaks are what save you, he can't be going more than 30 miles an hour when you side-swipe the telephone poll. The car comes to a screeching halt, brakes, and metal tearing.

There’s a crunch, but the momentum of the car hasn’t stopped, the seatbelt digs across his chest, and Hobi watches as the momentum of the car takes you, bouncing you up and-

Hobi hadn't checked to make sure your seatbelt was engaged the last time you swapped spots. 

Hobi watches- Hobi can’t do anything but watch as the seatbelt unreels, not keeping you where it's supposed to, the momentum buoys you up and up.

Until your head collides with the window. 

Adrenaline and fear pulsed through his veins more than blood and oxygen. And then it's all over, the sounds fall quiet as the car rocks with a thud and Hobi moves just as fast. He unbuckles your seatbelt. His hands search on you furiously going from your shoulders to your side To your head.

Hands searching your hairline for wetness- for blood-For a piece of broken skull- for anything- scrambling to hold onto you- the smacking sound of your head hitting the glass ringing in his ears like a record pin stuck in a crack- Hands cradling your head- 

A wretched noise sounds through the car- and it takes him a second to realize it comes from him.

There are going to be moments in his life that he never forgets and this is one of them. He lets out a shattered scared noise, and your eyes open. Blinking back tears, but at least they open.

if you had a moment you’d tell hobi that you didn’t actually get knocked out,  You just closed your eyes like you were on a roller coaster, the fear making your body and your mind go quiet. that has your arms and hands numb, your paniced body relocating blood to the important places. 

The same fear that has him gripping at you so harshly. Cradling you close like you might be taken from him. Your head spins and he holds you, looking down at you with so much horror in his eyes that it can only come from love.

“Hobi” his hands run through your hair and he lets out a wet sob in relief at the sound of your voice. 

“Hobi-” you say again, and he realizes he’s pulled you nearly across the console (not that there's much of it really it’s narrow by design.)

“Hoseok- I’m okay-” you say, putting your hands over his where they still hold your face, tilting your body so that you're half in his lap and half on the console. He sobs again, blinking back wetness until he can see you. 

He's holding your face so close to his that your noses are touching.

Your lips part, centimeters from his. You breathe, and Hobi tastes it. In the darkness and in the closeness, the adrenaline and the fear, all tangled with the frantic pulse of his heart in his chest.

Hobi cups the side of your face, a small bruise slowly reddening at your temple and thinks- If something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.

“Hobi,” you say again, quieter this time “I’m alright- I’m fine it’s just a bump.” He doesn’t believe you.

He doesn’t believe you until his forehead is pressed to yours. Until he can feel your heartbeat on his lips, one of his hands sliding down to cup your jaw and he watches your eyelashes flutter and your eyes shut.

In another world you and Hobi would be tearing into each other. In another world the kiss wouldn't be so gentle- his hands would slide to your shoulders to push off Jungkook's sweatshirt just to get his hands on you. In another life he’d breathe in your voice, your breath, your very being just to get you closer and closer.

You gasp into his mouth. Hand sliding to his hair.

You'd climb over the console to get your hands on him, or maybe you’d both go into the back of the car instead and he’d yank down his pants and you’d turn over-

Your lips taste like the chocolate cake you made earlier. Like Yoongi.

His lips taste a little like blood. 

or Maybe Hobi would want to see you. And you'd lie face to face in the cramped back seat just so that he could see the way you moan when he’d first push in. sloppy and messy and quick car sex- just like all the movies make it out to be. In another world, you'd turn the windows all foggy with your breath and- 

He’s out of the car before anything more can happen. Before he can even really kiss you properly. His heart pounded, slamming the door because his shaking hands don’t understand his alpha’s strength. The red brakelights of the car bleeding into him, bleeding onto his hands coloring his mid red and frantic orange. He's burning from the inside out. His breath comes out rapid and torn from his lungs like he’s just been drowning.

In the middle of the road 30 feet away, the dead animal sits. 

There's blood on the concrete. Hobi’s heart is pounding his own through his ears like the beat to a song he doesn’t want to hear.

He’s such a mess of adrenaline, still such a mess inside.

The small animal is soft and furry up close. It's a bunny- or well a rabbit. It's tiny, barely not a kit. Are rabbits called kits or pups? Hobi could be forgiven for not seeing it in time. It’s small, even in death it’s so small. 

He doesn’t hear the sound of your car door closing, closer to the telephone poll than you are. You step up beside him, and it’s too dark for him to tell if you’re blushing like him or if you’re scared at all like he is. His hands are still shaking and he can’t speak. He can’t even say your name. Can't look at you. 

You don't say anything, something gentle but determined to the set of your mouth. “Is it dead?”

Hobi watches and the fur doesn’t move, not even a little bit. “Yeah." He says, voice sounding flat.

You stoop to check if the little thing is alive. You teeter and Hobi jolts, holding onto your hood to keep you from falling over, dizzy from the adrenaline and the crash. 

He needs to get you home- needs to get you back to Namjoon so that he can check if you're hurt- if you're bone bruised or concussed or worse. 

Hobi doesn't let himself think of the worst-case scenario. 

Hobi’s breath is a little cloud in the red light from the car’s backlights. The Lambo's lights stay on as long as the key stays near it. No little breaths are coming from its mouth, or a heartbeat in its chest when you touch your palm to the still warm bloodied fur. 

“We can’t just leave them here” your voice is full of emotion. More than it should be. For a second, Hobi thinks of saying “like hell we can’t” but he can’t stomach it. He can’t stand leaving something so small alone in the dark like this.

“What are we supposed to do? Bury it?” But you sniffle again like that's exactly what you want to do. The grey hairs almost look like noodles and it prompts another wave of wetness in your eyes.   

Love has made Hobi do a lot of stupid things. burying roadkill is about to be one of them.

He bites his lip, watching you stand. Do you look a little less sure on your feet than usual? Or is it just his imagination? 

“Are you sure you’re not-“ 

“I know what concussions feel like.” you snap and he falls silent. How you know what dangerous hits to the head feel like are for another night. the fact that it’s happened before will remain fodder only for Hobi’s nightmares.

You pick up the rabbit, its body still limp and warm, not yet set in rigor Mortis. It's blood from its head gets on your palms, but you don't seem bothered. 

“Come on- help me” you carry it to the side of the road with gentle hands.  The spot you choose is mossy, between a rock and the branches of a small tree.

 Hobi ends up being the one who digs. After assuring you that you don’t need to.

He does it with his fingers, tearing through the dirt and other wriggly things disguised in the darkness. He’s on his knees, and you watch him in the red light of the brake lights from the Lambo. Holding the small dead thing gently cradled to your chest. 

One handful of earth, then two. And so on until the hole is 5 inches deep, just big enough for you to place the tiny body inside with a final lingering touch.

Hobi brushes the dirt from his hands, still on his knees, waiting for you. “Should we- uh- Say a few words?”

“I don’t know if we need to” and yet you stare down at the thing, the little paws and tiny teeth, not enough fury to bite you even in death. You stand over it, looking down at the tiny animal for a few seconds.

“No more playing dead,” you say softly. Staring down at the dead body.

Hobi stills, and then nods. He covers the body with one swoop of his hands across the earth. He looks up at you from where he kneels, your hair in the streetlight makes you look like you’ve got a little red halo. 

“No more playing dead.” He agrees. 

~-~

As it turns out, you don’t need to worry about telling Namjoon or not telling Namjoon because he's already sitting on the porch when you pull up. His fluffy grey-blue robe pulled tight around him.

He’s got a book folded between his fingers, and he drops it onto the nearby couch when he stands, crossing his arms. Angry, But not too angry yet.

You and Hobi slowly walk up to him, a set of matching sorry grins on your faces, nervous. 

His arms bulge in the fluffy robe, “If you’re going to leave in the middle of the night, you could at least leave a note" he snaps, eyeing the earth on Hobi’s knees, it must be nearing three am. Guilt tugs at you- you know Namjoon has surgery in the morning. Hopefully, you haven’t interrupted his sleep too much.

The drive home had been tense to say the least. Unbearable in its silence to say the worse. Hobi hadn’t said anything about what he’d done- what he’d almost done. You don’t know if you imagined it really- but somehow with his silence. Not even the music playing- you doubt you had imagined the kiss.

He'd kissed you, in those moments pure of panic. He'd taken his mouth and put it to yours like all the consequences in the universe didn't matter.

Hobi doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it, he smells sour and acrid even now.

after a moment of tense silence Namjoon pulls both of you to him, under one arm each. He sniffs at the top of Hobi’s head, concern in his own scent flashing strong and liquor-like. The burnt bitter of his coffee souring. He starts to pull you into the house but stops suddenly as the automatic lights of the car shut off. 

And reveal the dent and scratch along the passenger side. 

Both of you share a nervous glance as Namjoon's hands slide to the back of your neck abruptly. 

You look up at Namjoon, and he only has eyes for the car. Namjoon blinks once as if he’s checking to make sure that what he’s seeing is really there.  Hobi winces preemptively starting to make excuses for you- because really you shouldn't be blamed or shouted at- all of this is Hobi's fault. He's the alpha, he's the one who should know better. 

But Namjoon is already pulling at the back of his neck, holding him where he wants to you too- giving you both a scared shake. You wince, hand going to your head. 

The dent in the side is really more of a scrape, but it stretches from the center of the passenger side door to the back of the car. It's not too much damage- Hobi will take it to a mechanic and they'll restore it and it will be like it never happened. 

He glances at you and knows that not everything can be erased. Even if the marks aren't there- the feeling still remains- in your lips and his. Once you've gone down this road you can't go back. If you're going the speed limit or shattering the sound barrier. Now you know what hobi's lips feel like- and that changes everything. 

Namjoon's tone is so low it might be a growl.

“Is that a dent?” He asks, quiet in his anger. Your hand slides down Hobi’s side to his wrist clenching, holding onto it, and even he can't resist the need to hold you back. “How fast where you going- where did you-“ Namjoon turns back to you but you're still looking at Hobi, head tilted. 

He sees the bruise, starting at your hairline. There's a bit of blood on the front of your sweatshirt. From the rabbit- not you- but Namjoon doesn't know better. 

Namjoon's anger is an explosion- just as acidic as his panic, “-of all the stupid and irresponsible things you could have-“

He’s so angry he doesn’t even have the words for it. In a singular deft movement, He scruffs the back of your necks and drags you both inside.  

 ~-~

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Hobi’s playlist (Part 3) 

Hozier- a moments silence The Weekend and Ariana Grande - die for you remix Chappel roan- Naked in manhattan  SZA- kill bill Connor Price- violet  Selena Gomez- Ring Noah kahan - Orange Juice