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deepdarkdelights · 8 months

Text

As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader

Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 21k

Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it.

It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.

A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy

The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months.

Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then.

You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark.

That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable.

When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year.

It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death.

You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more.

You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none.

His body was found the next day.

Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.”

They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside.

“Pieces,” they had said.

He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry.

And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson.

The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself.

After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you.

Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die.

You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence.

You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer.

You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you?

You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance.

That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward.

The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal.

“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature.

You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry.

Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge.

The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now.

You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further.

Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard?

You felt weak.

Useless.

Helpless.

You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve.

It was too hard.

A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again.

And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you.

You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from.

Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns.

You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something.

You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind.

There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright.

Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident.

Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky.

“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.”

The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright.

“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.

You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe.

“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was.

The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet.

You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of.

With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you.

You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to.

You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before.

The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket.

“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.”

You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages.

Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds.

You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain.

You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room.

Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface.

There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom.

You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing.

But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him.

If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them.

You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all.

The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities.

You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction.

You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more.

You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen.

It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard.

Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world.

You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”

The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts.

After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before.

As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that.

It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart.

You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming.

The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm.

That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten.

The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there.

You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward. Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving.

You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark.

You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was.

Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground.

Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection.

You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart.

You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting.

The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening.

And then chaos unraveled in seconds.

You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it.

Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely.

Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired.

A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension.

The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster.

And, to your surprise, it was working.

Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision.

Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness.

It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup.

And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter.

His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three.

He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans.

Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them.

Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being.

“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin.

She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it.

“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!”

Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother.

He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence.

And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong.

Yoongi knew you.

He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat.

He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake.

Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks.

You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would.

That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges.

The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss.

And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face.

This was not good.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.

The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have.

You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other?

~~~~~~~

The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion.

When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor.

When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared.

Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic.

Out of sight, out of mind.

You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands.

Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next.

That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved.

It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place.

And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains.

Out of sight, out of mind.

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of.

And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before.

This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away.

And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that?

The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much.

You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence.

“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.”

It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?

“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light.

It was looking at you like you were dumb.

“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.”

You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf.

A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own.

Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.

If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy.

“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!”

The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here.

You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.

What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection.

A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child.

“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died.

You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy.

Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward.

“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you.

This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard.

“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.”

The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again.

That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much?

~~~~~~~

That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw.

For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores.

But your husband was dead.

With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it?

You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know.

You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble.

Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”

The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all.

“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you.

His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable.

But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you.

The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”

“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!”

He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.”

The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much.

“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”

“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”

“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked.

“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all.

“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”

“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?”

Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing. But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of.

“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked.

He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”

“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”

“That, that confuses me.” He admitted.

“What?!” You cried in exasperation.

“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”

You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen.

“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head.

“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.”

There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them?

Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him.

“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief.

“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.”

That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on.

“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work.

“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”

“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?”

Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form.

He nodded.

“Are there…are there more of you?”

“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all.

“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”

“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”

“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?”

Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him.

“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”

“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”

A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.”

Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were.

You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch.

“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said.

You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours.

“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”

Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes.

“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”

I understand you, he wanted to say.

“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side.

That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest.

It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone.

Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.

“I’ll leave you to your work.”

This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier.

It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain.

~~~~~~~

In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence.

You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed.

“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder.

You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”

He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”

That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.”

“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”

“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s never been a problem before,”

“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share.

“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected.

You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?

Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded.

Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing.

The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were.

You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended.

“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back.

You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him.

When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before.

Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it.

What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave?

You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest?

Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat.

No. No, you refused to believe it.

Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind.

It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her?

“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind.

They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse.

You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.

Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.

A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger.

You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood.

You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all.

You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass.

You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready.

You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him.

And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away.

There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet.

You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible.

“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand.

“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off.

You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before.

That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away.

He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband.

And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees.

A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood.

You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder.

~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it.

It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before.

“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up.

When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it.

“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead.

“You didn’t know him?”

“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”

“Was he going to eat me?”

You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer.

“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off.

Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.”

Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider.

He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words.

“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest.

Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed.

During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you.

During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you.

It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame.

But, there was one constant with her.

“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps.

And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws.

It was a silent “not yet.”

You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least.

The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted.

You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them.

Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human.

But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him.

The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens.

Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away.

“Yoongi!” You called.

The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him.

“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge.

There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back.

You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again.

The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside.

“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket.

“I can do both, dearest.”

Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word.

“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”

“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you.

You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit.

You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all.

You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours.

“Yoongi,” You whispered.

And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be.

You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen.

A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening.

“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth.

You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband.

“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.”

That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths.

He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct.

You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling.

“I can’t, not here.” You repeated.

He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home.

That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful.

You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively.

When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders.

There it was again.

There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness.

You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments.

You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.

Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair.

The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow.

Out of sight, out of mind.

~~~~~~~

When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone.

The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts.

Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?

You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door.

Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge.

You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage.

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.

You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair.

You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back.

The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger.

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks.

“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm.

“I didn’t lock you up-”

“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”

When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage.

“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”

“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”

“I have every right, you are mine!”

“I am not!”

His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat.

“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?”

Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach.

“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock.

His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal.

“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state.

“He wouldn’t!”

“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?”

He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue.

“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”

He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her.

“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”

His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest.

There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different.

You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment.

You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams.

“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.”

A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed.

You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears.

“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum.

“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs.

You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him.

He had trapped you once again.

~~~~~~~

You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.

You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.

You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run.

With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered.

You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation.

Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it.

A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else.

A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup.

You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass.

There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this.

“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time?

“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father.

“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”

“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin.

“Sorry, mama.” She repeated.

You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“

“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke.

Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked.

“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her.

You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead.

As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own.

But Binna wasn’t yours.

But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another.

You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again.

The door shut and the lock clicked.

You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met.

His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent.

“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered.

He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was.

“No.” He simply said.

“You’re not being fair -”

“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.”

You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you.

“I am not Binna’s mother.”

He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”

You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”

“You are her mother.”

And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna.

She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother.

“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection.

You didn’t know how to respond.

“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap.

“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.

“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face.

The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them.

“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to.

“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.”

Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them.

“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”

You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white.

Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.”

Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house.

The door shut, the lock clicked.

The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was.

And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.

The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him.

Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets.

“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning.

“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained.

“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”

“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“You didn’t even give me the choice.”

“I love you, and I know that you love me.”

You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own.

“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong.

Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning.

You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door.

“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong.

“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door.

That couldn’t be right? Crimes?

You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home.

You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast.

You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window.

“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”

Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her.

A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through.

“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time.

You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this.

A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time.

You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur.

When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you.

You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground.

The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground.

You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands.

“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted.

When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered.

And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame.

“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”

Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground.

It was absolute chaos.

The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it.

There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live.

Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair.

“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt.

“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground.

You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being.

You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back.

The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust.

“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him.

“I am no witch-“

“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain.

“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.

This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you.

Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.

Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision.

“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.”

You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you.

They were going to burn you alive.

Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.

You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable.

Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would.

But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.”

The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision.

“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.

Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone.

But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you.

Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight.

The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place.

In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening.

It was Yoongi.

The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you.

The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace.

“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash.

“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.”

His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him.

Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe.

You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men.

“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again.

You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.

Help them.

Help them?

Help them?!

You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of?

Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone.

You didn’t need other humans.

“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder.

“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Kill them all.”

You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss.

“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers.

In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves.

You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color.

You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws.

You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.

You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced.

Out of sight, out of mind.

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cybsoo2 · 17 days

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yandere bts profile

╰┈➤ synopsis — Stories of seven men living their yandere lives.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — murder, yandere behavior, stalker behavior, manipulative behavior, graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, suicide, self-harm, vomiting, invasion of privacy, talk of religion

—Kim Seokjin

yandere type — manipulative and overprotective

watch out for! — overprotection, isolating, self-imposing, monitoring, spy cams, invasion of privacy

Seokjin speaks sweet lies

He’s such a good liar that he’s even begun to deceive himself

He’ll tell himself these selfish sins are for the greater good

Misleading you and manipulating others is one of his many skills

Although he holds no affection for anyone else and is inclined to ruin their lives through manipulation, he doesn’t dare try it on you

Although the fate of your friends and foes is different, He’d never hurt you, wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless you asked

He doesn’t want your love to be a lie, to become warped and wrecked into images unknown

Instead, he leads you astray when you step too close to his sinful secrets

When a coworker with a crush comes too close for his liking, he’ll whisper the words, “He’s not good enough for you sweetheart.”

Your friends offer an invitation to get drunk one dark night, “It’s too dangerous to drink this late at night, stay inside with me instead.”

And maybe one morning, a slithering suspicion sits still in your mind

You ask him why he’s so protective, so passionate, so possessive, and he’ll tell you, “I love you like no other.”

Jin cares about your safety

He wishes you’d be healthy and happy all the time

Although, his methods of achieving this dream can have some consequences

He’ll worm his way into your life

He looms over you with a loving presence

But if he’s not careful enough, his ‘love’ can be suffocating

He monitors your actions, not stalking, but spying on you through other methods

He’ll set up cameras to make sure you don’t get hurt

Of course a fragile fawn like you needs him in order to survive

He takes the truth from your friends to figure out how you’ve been doing

He’ll read your messages to find the deviant souls that might harm you

He gives biased advice (Though you don't know it) in order to keep you close to him

Misleading your crushes by telling them that you’re already taken

He keeps you away from everyone else, so much so that some friends become distant and disturbed at the sight of him

Jin is willing to be whatever you what so long as he can stay by your side

He’ll be your friend, a brother, a lover

He’s perfect for you, if it weren’t from the looming sense of danger that falls in his shadow

—Min Yoongi

yandere type — obsessive and possessive

watch out for! — murder, codependency, self-containment

Yoongi hides his true nature behind longing looks and a distant friendship

He keeps calm underneath a cold exterior

Yoongi stays to himself and watches you from afar

He may murder any pests that cross your path, but he wouldn’t dream of hurting you

You’d never assume he mutilates men and women while you sleep

He brings you glory through each slash and stab of scarlet

Yoongi just might be a cruel killer, but the worst types of killers are those who’ve become self aware

He holds a court of immoral justice in his head

He kills based of bias, yet he can’t find himself to care

You’ve made him into a merciless man, which is why he can’t stop once he’s set his mind on something

He’ll put on a plaster face, he’ll be kind, and quiet, and normal

Yet even if his body stays at shore, a selfish need sings him out to sea

Yoongi believes in codependency, you need him and he needs you

He may put himself in a position that demands him to be close to you

He could be a coworker, a classmate, or perhaps a neighbour

But you can bet that you’ve met him before

Yoongi is too dependent on the normality you two have to act on his obsession

He understands his sick self and knows the consequences if he confesses

Yoongi knows that he won’t be able to hide of the horrors of who he truly is, so he doesn’t even take the chance

He believes in a loyal love and couldn’t lie to you if you had a real romance

He’ll take what he can get and make sure no one else can get in the way

His obsession is closed away in the corner of his heart (But that’s not exactly true since his whole heart belongs to you)

His passion is put on the shelf to collect dust in the dark

A distant dream that had no hope of really happening

It rots away in his ribcage, tearing him apart from the inside out

His sickness is a symptom of this strange fixation

He throws up three times a day

The bile burns through his throat and now drops of blood join the rest of his lost lunch

A running list of other side-effects include: sleep loss, hypersomnia, depression, loss of appetite, etc.

Yoongi is always wanting the dream that waits

Sometimes, he sees a sliver of it in his sleep

A feverish fantasy where you embrace like lovers and kiss without consequences

But then he wakes up to reality and wishes this illness had never infected him

Your love is like a leech, bleeding him to the bone and testing his tenacity

But then tomorrow arrives and he sees the smile he’s so lost in love with

His inertia is eternal and he’ll never give up what he has for his unlikely odds

Your life remains pretty much the same except for the missing men and women that hurt you many months ago

You would never suspect that the sweet, yet shy Yoongi has his heart in your hold

—Jung Hoseok

yandere type — clingy, obsessive, and delusional

watch out for! — self-harm, suicide, dependency, delusion, mixing fantasy with reality, insecurity

Despite how intense his love can be, he never acts as more than desperate and delusional when it involves you

There’s no need to worry about mysterious murders when it comes to Hoseok

He doesn’t have the patience, planning, or guts to kill anyone

He’d rather reap his worries and run away from the issue

He’s comes crying to you at the slightest inconvenience

You’re the savior of his soul who soothes all his sorrows

Such a saint you are, putting up with someone as pathetic and plain as this broken boy

Even when the roles are reversed and your upset under a burden of blue, Hobi will be your crying companion

He can’t help it, seeing you so sad evokes excruciating emotions

Someone as sweet as yourself doesn’t deserve to be depressed, which is why he’ll do anything it takes to be your sunshine in the storm

Hoseok is someone that clings close to you

Always following you around wherever you go and sticking by your side

Hoseok desperately depends on you, he may be your sunshine but you’re his hope

You’re the reason he’s like this after all

You gave him a glimpse of happiness, a unique thing in this large universe

He sees you as his angel, always right and a savior to the lovesick

Your kindness and compassion are what immediately intrigued him

But what made him unable to shake this obsession is how special you made him feel

You look into his eyes and you see him as an individual

You see his soul for all it’s crimson colours and still accept him

That’s when his delusion begins to distort the realm of reality

He truly believes you love him like he loves you

Why else would you take pity on a poor soul like him

His insecurities suffocate him, telling him he isn’t good enough for you

Yet you still stay, never once have you thought of the boy as a burden

This twisted love ties into his dreams

He dreams of the distant future: tangled in each others embrace, whispering your carmine confessions, and living out the rest of your lives as lovers

These fantasies feel so real that sometimes Hoseok swears they actually happened

That kiss you shared in the shadows last week? Totally real!

You falling asleep in his arms after crying out your confessions? Definitely happened according to Hoseok!

But when these fairy tales fizzle out, Hobi is left with lost dreams and a broken heart

Falling down from heaven, he’s struck by the hard-hitting truth

You don’t love him and even if you did he wouldn’t deserve it

He cries and tries to cut himself clean

Emptying out the red as it runs down the drain

He lets out the pain on his pinkening flesh

One day he may fall too far

Running the red blade over his arteries until all he can see is black blood

But he’s hopeful for now, this imaginary event would only happen if you turned to hate him

Screaming that he’s a psycho and a sinner

Crying cause you can never be alone, him always at your side

Telling him how much you hate him

Saying you wish to never see him again

It would take a lot for Hoseok to fully lose his heart

And the loss of your love is the one thing that would sink his sorrows

Without your light to guide him, it would send him overboard into the black abyss

—Kim Namjoon

yandere type — manipulative and devotee

watch out for! — collector, murder, manipulation, worship, extreme obsession

Namjoon worships the water you walk on

Yet this twisted type of religion isn’t right, it isn’t even real

In his mind, you’re an angel of purity and perfection

You’re the cause of every good event that happens to him

You single handedly uplift his life and give him guidance

And he’s just happy to be the devotee to his one and only divine

As aforementioned, Namjoon is a collector

His entire home is a museum of memories

Tiny trinkets are stacked on shelves, and useless objects are crowded into of the corners of his room

But every piece has a purpose, each and every object leads back to you

Outsiders may say he’s a hoarder, but Namjoon remembers why so many red bottles are shoved under his bed

You endorsed a beauty brand and he bought out the entire stock

Now every time he does his nightly routine, he can sense the faint feeling of your skin on his

Shoved in his drawers is the jewelry you just wore

Replicas of bronze bracelets or ruby rings

He wears noir necklaces like a noose around his neck

Chained up under your control, you decide his destiny

When he wears copies of your clothes, sometimes he feels slightly closer to you

Like he can hear you whispering right from wrong in his ear

Telling him what to do and how to do it

Namjoon doesn’t think for himself

His emotions are almost artificial, only responding with empathy when it relates to you

He’s lost interest in the social scene, but still goes out to keep connections

He talks to people only to take their trust and ask for favours in the future

It’s common knowledge to anyone that Namjoon is easily infatuated with you

He doesn’t try to hide it and uses peoples intrigue to gain intelligence

But the occasional onlooker will sometimes sense that this isn’t just a common crush

They might’ve found out about his stash of souvenirs stuffed up in his attic

Perhaps it was how obviously anxious Namjoon gets when you’re not near

Or maybe they noticed the lovesick looks he wishes your way

But when Namjoon finds out he’s got a follower, he knows what he has to do

He’s not big fan of murder, it takes up too much time and it’s a mess to keep hidden, he’d rather it be fast and efficient

So he sends his sins out to sea

He has no time for torture and no desire to drag this out

Namjoon ties up his victim in twine ropes

The ropes wrap around the writhing fool

Tether twisting around their throat and cutting off their cries

The rope scratches scarlet off the skin, leaving long lines that bruise purple and pink

Namjoon ties a brick to their ankles, bring them back down to the dark

It’s the murder of a man who knew too much, sinking out in the open ocean with all their knowledge never to be known

The weight of Namjoon’s actions never wrestles with his heart

Uncaring and callous, he never stops to consider that these heinous acts hurt his humanity

Because in his brown eyes, this is all your doing

You told him to get rid of the fool that fell too close to your godly grace

You can do no wrong so this must be the new morality

Namjoon will protect your perfection by never letting any noble men come too close

Your sweet love must be kept a secret, no other weakling worthy enough for it but him

And even though dark doubts still taint his thoughts, Namjoon will spend the rest of his worship proving he’s your lovesick slave

—Park Jimin

yandere type — clingy and psychotic

watch out for! — isolating, self-harm, murder, suicide, dependency, jealousy, hysteria, insecurity, kidnapping

The gods gave Jimin a gift

A double wielded sword weighted with the opposite ends of emotion

His feelings are feverish and burn with a bright intensity

It’s all a sliding scale for him, switching out his soul for whatever worth

All-consuming emotions are what drives him

Day by day, Jimin is mostly described as empathetic and enthusiastic

And while Jimin is an awestruck soul, he also hides his more dark desires

Your love sets him alight

Melting away his walls to reveal the real monster

Violent thoughts flow thoughts his veins

It’s like a venom, monopolizing his mind and evoking his red wrath

Jimin isn’t an apathetic man, he cares too much about the things that make him tick and the love his lusts after

He’s incapable of indifference, always so engrossed in his emotions and their outcomes

Loving him would be like locking yourself in with a lion

Jimin worships you like you no other and makes you feel like you’re alone in ardent

But the burning candle that controls his heart will always end up blinding you

He’s too dependant, always running after you and following like a poor puppy

He’s too jealous, scared you’ll be stolen away by any other man

He’s overly enthusiastic, lovesickness so suffocating you have to beg to break free from his hugs

Jimin takes you two to solitude, liking to rest in your warmth without any else’s eyes on you

While the long list of turmoil may taunt you, it’ll only get worse when he’s upset

Jimin has widespread worries that you’ll leave him like everyone else

Insecurities lay intimate in his mind and he’ll only ever speak them to his soulmate

He’ll spend countless days crying and trying to seek your sweet reassurance

When these dark doubts are ripe and rip his heart apart, you better not set him off or else the consequences are grave

When he’s like this, clinging to you and crying his heart out, it’s best to shush his sorrows and hold him to your heart

He’ll bawl his eyes out into your blue sweatshirt, white knuckles wrapped around the familiar fabric

He’ll try to hide the hiccups in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed for his emotional outburst

Jimin lies limply in your lap, tired out from all the tears but too vulnerable to let go

He chases away the cold in your warm embrace

You speak lovely lies of how you love him

If this is all insanity and you truly don’t love him, then this outcome would be very different

Was it a rash rejection? Or careless cruelty too much for his heart to handle?

Either way Jimin would explode in a case of confusing emotions

He’d swipe the silver blade down to the bone, bleeding out all over the bathroom tile and trying to tell you how much he loves you

“I’m nothing without you and I won’t let you leave.”

“I’d kill to keep you, I’d die if you don’t love me.”

The universe is always against your relationship and if a situation where to arise where he can’t keep you, he may just kidnap you instead

A much more morbid scenario might even involve suicide

You escape and Jimin must now spend eternity alone

He’d wake up at death’s door with pills pouring out his mouth

A terrible taste lays on his lips and his stomach is swimming in poison

A life without his love is a life not worth living

—Kim Taehyung

yandere type — devotee and stalker

watch out for! — murder, stalking, invasion of privacy, voyeurism, collector, murder-suicide, insecurity, monitoring , worship

Taehyung is a cruel romantic

His thirst for your entirety is insatiable

This growing greed is what makes him so bold

He takes risks none of the other boys would dare to dream of

Of course, he didn’t always act so impatient

This restlessness for your red romance had started small before it spiraled into disarray

Subtle acts of stalking or stealing is how it all began

He just wanted to feel close to you, whether that be through physicality or by objects tainted with your touch

Taehyung is a collector of lost possessions and missing moral

But it didn’t take much time before he grew tired of absent objects and started stealing glances of you instead

He watches as you wander under the moonlight

Your features burning like fire in his brain

You’re so memorable under the moon that he can’t help himself from painting 10,000 pictures of your perfection

Taehyung sees himself as an artist and you his muse

His drawings dictate your every move, illustrate your emotions, and reflect your beauty

The days spent drawing last from dusk to dawn, and although he could never be bored of staring at your face and flesh, an emptiness begins to claw at his chest

It creeps in from the corners of the room, a cold wind that washes over him and makes him shiver

It takes hold of your image in his mind, making each brushstroke dull and distorted

Your pretty portraits lack your warmth, as does our poor Tae

He’s persistent in his pursuit of lifelong love, and he won’t stop waiting until your his to take

If Taehyung were to actually take part in your life, you’d live an endless eternity of claustrophobia and catastrophe

It may take some time, but you’ll begin to see the signs of your impending downfall before you can stop it

Taehyung’s love is tender and touching

It’s make anyone awe at the sight, but they don’t understand what goes on in the shadows

You’re an inspiration for his art, so much so that your home starts to look like a house of mirrors

Every element of your eternity must be captured, from the bare bones down to trailing patterns at your fingertips

He studies you like a statue

Staring at you all day, swearing at himself whenever he has to blink

Taehyung believes that your bare beauty is an eternal enigma

Your one in a billion and must be treated as such

He tries to show you his distorted devotion everyday, and this may be the only amount of pure peace you get

He makes you feel special, a divine entity the deserves everything you ask for

You were crafted by the gods themselves just for his sweet satisfaction

You were made for each other and nothing can change that… until it does

Taehyung’s always had a hunch that men and women all over the earth were jealous of your relationship

They try to tear you apart, saying your tainted by his toxic touch

He’s running out of time, slipping through the sands of the hourglass

Lost in their lies, he takes you to the one place where no one can separate your souls, heaven

Taehyung likes to think it’s romantic even, like star-crossed lovers born to be destroyed

He doesn’t flinch in the face of death

He’s so lost in his sick sense of delusion that he honestly believes you two are tied between the stars

Tangled up in each other, meant to meet in every timeline and be lovers once again

Both your sad sorrow would soak the bed he holds you in

He calms your cries with a hand held up to your trembling lips

The shivering steel of the gun touches your temple

He says that death will not be dark with him to guide you

You won’t feel the Reapers cold caress when he’s here to hold you

Taehyung gives your lips one last quiet kiss

Breaking apart only to breathe and whisper the words,

“I love you in every universe.”

“Till’ we meet again my dearest divine.”

His last moment with you is a memory of red redemption

With his thumb triggering the gunshot, he blows your brains out on the back wall

You’re head snaps back from the force and lays limply on your shoulder

Blood bleeds down and begins to soak the sheets

Taehyung chokes back his cries with his hand still holding the steel

He takes your cold corpse in his tender embrace and readies himself for a restful end

He lays down dark kisses to the bullet wound that tore open your temple

He weeps away his heinous actions and with you still held close to his heart, he puts the last bullet in his brain

—Jeon Jungkook

yandere type — impulsive and delusional

watch out for! — murder, suicide, dependency, kidnapping, delusion, hysteria, impulsion

Jungkook is just a boy with a broken heart

Still learning the differences between desire and devotion

He twists the two into one, his passion is painful and his innocent intentions begin to wither away

That fiery fondness that once burned so bright now sends smoke signals of death and destruction

But what really matters is what moment of massacre you met him

Was it when he was still a shy soul? Susceptible to sin but also ready for redemption

Or was it when he was a man? Matured into murder and wrapped up in wrath

If you arrived early in the timeline of terror, then you’d probably be childhood friends

Playing pretend in a world without worries

Lost in a little kids imagination, you play house, yourself as the wife and him as the husband

This is when his kindergarten crush would begin to grow

As a child you’d call yourselves soulmates, but an adult eye would sense that someone was seriously wrong

Jungkook would throw tantrums whenever you left to leave, and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d turn to violence

He’d begin to grow dependant on his only friend

Playdates would pursue sleepovers which would then turn to him refusing to ever leave your side

Scared that you’d be snatched away if his attention fell too far

And as you grew up, got to know more about the horrors and hormones of the future, you’d eventually find yourselves as high-school sweethearts

Jungkook just like his old self, only better at hiding the bloodshed

The obsession would only grow as you get older

More things threaten your relationship and his anger and anxiety amplify

But your impression of the innocent boy still stays the same

Sure he may be more dependant and delusional then most men, but he’s still your sweet boy

If an artist were to paint a portrayal of a lost lover, it would be Jungkook

Every day is a dream, you drink in his devotion and bathe in bliss

He washes away all your worries and takes on all lives labours

Your life would look pretty normal only because Jungkook’s good at burying all the bodies and biting back his paranoia

But when you bottle up your emotions for years on end, it’ll eventually explode in your face

Jungkook has always been impulsive, acting on his anger and making irrational decisions

His rage causes him to run on a rampage, killing anyone that could come too close

His fear tells him to hide you in the house and cut ties with the outside world

Jungkook is determined to obtain the life and love he obsesses over

Which is why when things don’t go his way, his has a fit of hysteria

His tempers turns up to 100 and he may try to kidnap you

He’s abandoned all rationality and is recklessly driving your relationship off a cliff

His thoughts are so stubborn and he won’t stop once he’s set on a solution

No planning or preparation is taken in advance

He’s in a fit of frantic fear and reality is slowly slipping

Illusion is in his lungs, he can’t understand that he’s undoing all his progress thus far

So set on the end goal, he can’t see the death and decay until he holds it in his arms

It’s a sudden slaughter and he’s doesn’t processes your passing until you’re pale and purple

After a rainy night spent sobbing and still clutching your cold corpse, he comes to a conclusion

He can’t live with his actions, he’s a monster in a man’s body

He feels sick in his skin, he tries to scratch it off

Peeling off the pink to reveal the red undertones

His hands are still sore from the force he gripped your throat with, he tries to take those off too

He’s disturbed by what he’s just done

Jungkook gathers your blue body in his arms and takes you to the bathtub

He dies by your side, drowning in devastation

most to least dangerous — jungkook, taehyung, jimin, hoseok, namjoon, jin, yoongi

210 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 4 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

373 notes · View notes

pennyellee · 1 month

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐭

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings:minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, religious references, mentiones of physical violence, loss of blood, incision wound, suicide attempt, strong language, consented sexual intercourse, oral sex, fingering, handjob, emotional distress, remorse, verbal confrontation, emotional manipulation, suicidal ideation, bargaining, ... (if i forgot smth, pls i'm so sorrryy)

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,6K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: is at the end of the chapter! 🫧🩵

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER IX

lítost (n.) a state of agony and torment by a sudden sight of one’s misery

She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, the soft rustle of wind making her hair dance. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air. She buried her feet into the warm sand and smelled the summer heat mixed with the salty ocean. It was as if time stood still, frozen in a moment of perfect happiness.

She relished the sensation of sand between her toes, the soft grains shifting beneath her feet with each step she took. As she gazed out at the endless expanse of the ocean, the horizon stretched out before her like a canvas painted with shades of blue and gold. The waves lapped gently against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that echoed the beating of her heart.

She slowly returned to the porch of a quaint cottage, the soft glow of sunset casting a warm embrace around her. Y/N could hear the front door to open when she carefully slumped down to one of the armchairs in the cosy living room.

“I’m home!”

His footsteps were steady and purposeful as he crossed the threshold, his presence filling the room with a sense of familiarity that tugged at the edges of Y/N’s consciousness.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, his voice like a soft melody that danced through the air, sending shivers down her spine. He moved closer, his features slowly coming into focus as he stepped into the light.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes were dark and intense, but filled with a warmth that made her pulse quicken with anticipation.

“How was your day?” she asked standing up again to greet him, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in his rugged appearance, the faint stubble lining his jaw, the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead.

“Been better, -”

“-hurried home to you, love,” he replied, his voice low and husky as he reached out to take her hand in his. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, igniting a fire deep within her soul. She feels such a strong connection to him, not stopping to think why.

Y/N’s eyes wandered around the room, overlooking the family portraits on a wall full of memories. Her fingers enveloped his dark soft hair, playing with them. As she caressed his hair, a sense of comfort washed over her, as if she had done this a thousand times before. The warmth of his hand in hers felt familiar, like coming home after a long journey.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “And how is my sunshine?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the endearment, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes soft with affection as she smiled up at him.

“Missed you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. His lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes glowing with adoration as he leaned in to press another kiss to her forehead.

“Did you?” he teased her.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his teasing tone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she nodded in response.

“Of course, -” she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You know I always miss you when you’re not home.”

He grinned at her words, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, we better fix that, love,” he said, his voice laced with warmth as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. Y/N melted into his embrace, her heart fluttering with joy as she wrapped her arms around him, savouring the feeling of his lips against hers.

“Good enough?” He asked, his tone playful.

“Maybe a tiny bit more,” she murmured, her voice filled with love. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Is that so?” he teased again, his voice husky with desire. Without waiting for her response, he captured her lips in another searing kiss, his hands trailing down her sides, igniting a fire deep within her.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she melted into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the intensity of their passion. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, their bodies pressed together in a perfect symphony of desire and longing.

“Seems like I can’t get enough of you, love,” he moaned to the kiss, his hand already travelling past her underwear to coat his fingers with her juices. The nearest wall served as a support column for her once she wrapped one of her legs around his waist, working on his suit pants.

With each touch, each caress, she felt herself slipping deeper into the abyss of desire, her body humming with pleasure as his fingers expertly explored her most intimate places. She gasped as he skilfully teased her, sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her veins.

Hiking the hem of her dress up, the nearest table collided with her upper body, her hand spread over the width of the wood, gripping the edge forcefully. Within her, a fire burned bright, consuming her with a fervour she had never known before, as she surrendered herself completely.

“Such a pretty ass, -” slapping the soft skin with his palm he lowered to taste the juices she produced. Y/N’s free hand reached to press his head to her heat, moving her hips slightly to the rhythm of his tongue.

The feeling of his warm breath against her skin, the flick of his tongue, sent her spiralling into ecstasy. Her hand gripped the edge of the table tighter, her knuckles turning white as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his intoxicating taste.

With each flick of his tongue, she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the fire within her burning brighter with each passing moment. Before she could release with a loud moan he slapped the other cheek, turning her over while he straightened himself behind her, chuckling at her frustration once he did so. With a hunger that bordered on desperation, he positioned himself, his hands roaming over her curves as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.

“Is my baby needy?” a soft whimper came out of her, she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she craved more of his touch, more of his intoxicating presence.

“Yes, -” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she pressed her hips back against him, desperate for the connection she knew only he could provide.

With a swift movement, he entered her from behind, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips. The sensation of him filling her, stretching her in all the right ways, sent waves of addiction coursing through her body. His movements slow and deliberate as he fills her completely. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she felt him moving inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.

“Fuck!” She had to curse out loud, biting her lip. The room was filled with loud moans and groans, the audible skin to skin contact as he raised the tempo, his hand pressing her head to the table.

As he moved in perfect harmony, Y/N felt a sense of bliss wash over her, her body trembling with pleasure as she surrendered herself completely to the moment. With each thrust, she felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, her senses heightened by the raw intensity of their desire.

“You’re such a good girl, -”

She tightened around him, her nails digging into the wooden surface of the table. His groans became louder with each snap of his hips to her welcoming heat and Y/N could not help but bite down her lip, painful yelp filled with the backdrop of pleasure leaving her mouth as he continued to hit all the right places.

A primal growl resonated as he buried himself deeper inside her, feeling her walls clenching around him, urging him closer to the brink.

With one final thrust, they both reached the pinnacle of their desire, their bodies exploding in a symphony of ecstasy. Y/N’s back arched, a guttural cry escaping her lips as waves of orgasm washed over her, engulfing her in a whirlwind of bliss.

He groaned loudly, his release echoing hers as he emptied himself inside of her, their connection deepening with each pulsating wave of pleasure.

As they slowly came down from their euphoric high, Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body still trembling with aftershocks. She turned to him, her eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile playing on her lips.

“A bath, shall we?” Y/N’s head twitched to the side, thinking why this trivial sentence sounds way too familiar. Shaking it off she pressed her damaged lips to his with a pleased hum as agreement.

Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her throat, his panicked voice calling out, but it was too distant, as if coming from a faraway place.

“Seokjin?!!” he shouted; his voice raw with desperation.

He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.

The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.

“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.

But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him, and that they would someday find their way back to each other.

“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”

Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.

Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crumpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin is near, or that anyone heard him scream frantically enough to relay the message.

“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”

He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand that was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.

“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.

“Fucking goddammit, Yoongi!”

Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.

“I’ve been thinking, -” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.

“About opening my own practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at his words, her mind spinning with confusion. A baby? What baby was he talking about? Her mouth seemed to work without the help of her mind. As if she was a mere observer, not the main character.

“I know. I know. But I can’t shake the feeling that now is the right time. I want to create something for myself too. Daddy's successful, why shouldn’t Mommy be successful too?”

Lifting his eyes from the paper, he reached across the table, his touch gentle as he took her hand.

“Opening a practice is a big step, especially with a baby on the way.”

She knew this was going to be hard, but she was determined to build herself a name too. And help those who can’t help themselves.

But as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a subtle yet unmistakable change. A faint scar marred his eye, tracing from above his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Y/N was certain it wasn’t there before.

“How are you feeling? Can you feel the babe moving?” he asked, his eyes softening with concern as he gently brushed his hand against her stomach. Y/N gulped down, trying to shush all the thoughts that echoed in her mind.

“He’s been active today,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she placed her hand on her growing stomach, feeling the gentle flutter of movement beneath her palm. “I think he’s just as eager to be with his Daddy as I am.”

The man’s eyes widened with surprise at her words, his expression softening with emotion as he took in the sight of her. And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the room with hues of pink and gold, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her.

She cradled her swollen belly with tenderness, feeling the gentle flutter of life within. The promise of new beginnings and the joy of impending motherhood enveloped her in a cocoon of love and warmth.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, and she can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding.

The door slammed wide open, Seokjin’s voice was soar, his breathing frantic from running. His expression grave as he took in the scene before him.

Seokjin wasted no time, his training kicking in as he rushed to Y/N’s side, his hands moving with practised efficiency as he assessed her injuries. Yoongi watched in silent desperation, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed for Seokjin to work his magic and save the woman he loved.

“You have to save her, Seokjin-hyung,-” Seokjin never saw Yoongi in a condition like this since his parents died and never thought he would ever again.

“She would lose too much blood if we attempted to transport her now, but I need my shit, Yoongi,” his tone was urgent and commanding as he took charge of the situation. “Get me my briefcase, hot water and towels, -”

As Seokjin worked to staunch the flow of blood, Yoongi hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face as he whispered words of encouragement and prayer. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, of facing a future without her by his side.

“Yoongi, snap out of it and get it! I left it in the sunroom,” Seokjin left in hurry once a distant cry of his leader echoed at the first floor. He was sure that everyone outside of the celebrating banquet room heard it.

Yoongi nodded in a mixture of desperation and determination, scrambling to his feet as he absorbed Seokjin’s instructions. His mind raced as he mentally registered each item Seokjin urgently needed. In the tumultuous atmosphere, Yoongi rushed out of the room, his steps echoing in the corridor as he desperately sought the necessary supplies.

“What happened Yoongi?” Hoseok rose from his seat in the sunroom walking towards the dishevelled state of his friend. Yoongi did not even register him as he frantically searched for Seokjin’s briefcase. Reaching out to get it with his bloodied hands his ears miffily caught the younger Miss Wang’s anxious voice.

“Whose blood it is, Kkangpae Min?”

She couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The scar on his eye screamed volumes to her, yet her mind could not put things together and decipher what it wanted to tell her and why she does not recall that her husband had a scar like that. Where would a businessman come to get hurt this way? She couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband’s explanation didn’t quite add up. She stared at the scar on his face, her thoughts swirling with confusion and doubt.

“What do you mean, baby? I’ve always had it.” Said he, setting down the hat from his head, running his finger through the dark locks, pushing them back from his face.

But try as she might, she couldn’t recall ever seeing that scar before. It wasn’t just a minor detail that had slipped her mind—it was as if her memory had been rewritten, leaving her with a sense of disorientation and unease.

“Always?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Following him to his office where he lifted the briefcase to put it on the table while she slumped down next to the unlit fireplace.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the scar as if searching for answers.

He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of her confusion, and she did not understand why the scar evokes so many feelings inside her, yet his touch calms her.

“You traced it with your fingers when we first made love, baby, I can assure it has been there for a very long time.” She tried to grasp onto the fragments of memory, to recall the moment he spoke of, but it eluded her like a fading dream.

“I want to remember,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the tumult of her thoughts, “it feels so... significant.”

“Memories can be elusive, maybe it’s because of the accident?” he murmured, his voice soothing.

“An accident?”

“You are fucking lucky she did it with a stupid letter opener, it seems like it did not manage to do as big of a damage as a regular knife would.”

His brow furrowed with concentration, his hands moving with practised precision as he worked to staunch the flow of blood and assess the extent of her injuries.

“She scraped over her artery, not much but enough to slow the blood flow to her brain. I need to close the wound as soon as possible.”

Seokjin’s words hit Yoongi like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he realised the severity of Y/N’s injuries. The thought of her life hanging in the balance sent a wave of panic coursing through him, but he forced himself to focus, to push aside his fear and uncertainty.

“She did not reach her windpipe, nor did she cut herself deep enough, thank God for that Yoongi.”

He never fell out of God’s grace, and he hoped he wouldn't do so now. His hand intertwined with hers as he whispered words of love and hope into the stillness of the room. Minutes felt like hours as the doctor carefully disinfected the wound to reduce the risk of infection. The stitches are precise.

“Why is she not awake, Seokjin?” He asked carefully, awaiting the worst. Seokjin’s expression softened briefly as he glanced up from his work, meeting Yoongi’s anxious gaze with empathy in his eyes.

“She lost quite some blood, Yoongi.”

“I understand-,” Yoongi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he squeezed Y/N’s hand tighter, as if to anchor her to this world. “But she’s strong, Seokjin-hyung. She’ll pull through this, right?” Seokjin offered a small nod of agreement, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and determination. If only he had been more attentive, more willing to listen and understand, perhaps they wouldn’t be facing this crisis now.

“I should have done more,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with remorse.

“You know, this would probably never happen if you would let me ease her mind in the beginning.”

The warm water cascaded over their bodies. He was holding her and her naked body in a tight embrace. The flickering candlelight casting a soft glow upon their entwined forms.

His hands roamed over Y/N’s skin, she arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her lips as he trailed kisses along her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch sends shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins.

She moaned softly against his lips as he teased her, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her whole body. Y/N reached between them, her hand finding his manhood, firm and ready for her touch. She grasped him firmly, feeling his arousal pulse beneath her fingertips.

“Fuck, love, —” he moaned loudly, a raw expression of his pleasure and desire as she brought him closer to the edge. She followed the rhythm he settled for, stroking his manhood.

Y/N first felt the warm stream of his ejaculation before she heard his throaty moan of her name and then she could feel his fingers deeper in her than before, moving faster until she saw the stars too.

So, is this how love feels?

Her fingers slowly traced the faded scar from a wound on her neck she couldn’t quite remember when it appeared on her body nor how it came to that. Closing her eyes, trying to recall and dig up any memory that would help her and ease her confusion turned out unfruitful.

“Good night, Dove-” Her eyes snapped open hearing his voice. She felt his lips press into her cheek, one hand caressing her belly. Y/N’s lenses took in the change of surroundings. She’s in bed that feels like home as if she was sleeping in it for years. Clutching the silk duvet she looked at him. The scar is still present on his face, calling to her. He looked so calm, at peace, falling asleep with a smile on his face.

Dove. The word echoed in her mind, stirring up fragmented memories that danced just beyond her reach. It was a name she couldn’t recall ever being called before, yet it felt right, as if it belonged to her in ways she couldn’t comprehend.

Everything around her felt right yet so wrong at the same time. The soft crackling of fire, soft wind blowing outside and the symphony the crickets created. It was nighttime. A day went by, and she could not remember what she was doing for all the hours after breakfast.

Her hands slipped down to caress her belly with a stranger inside. Her hand slowly moved to cover his. Holding it felt somehow right, even though her mind was saying otherwise. The only thing that was wrong yet felt right was her helplessness, her indecisiveness, her unawareness. She was a prisoner of her mind and her body. This life felt surreal, sweet, and endearing, musing to her to live it without doubt. But doubts she had. Is this what her mind thought life would be? The more she thought about it, the more she felt like this projection is what her sound heart and mind longed for. This is what she wanted.

Love, happiness, and-

“Why do you call me that?” She asked suddenly, leaving her mind to speak to him. His eyes fluttered open to lovingly gaze at her. He pulled his hand from under hers, gently took it to intertwine their fingers together.

“What do you mean?” with a gentle smile playing on his lips, he whispered. The flickering firelight danced across their intertwined hands, casting shadows that seemed to whisper untold stories and shared moments.

“Why do you call me Dove?” She searched his eyes for answers.

“Because you brought peace to my heart, -”

“-and my world.”

His gaze held hers, a depth of emotion swirling within those familiar eyes that she couldn’t quite place. The doubts and uncertainties that had clouded her mind seemed to fade away, replaced by a deep sense of trust and acceptance. At least, for now.

“Are you satisfied now? Hm?” The widow’s steps and words were aimed at the man she loathes. Her brother is laying at the sanitorium’s metal beds, a fractured skull and internal bleeding to be treated. They fear he might have been admitted far too late as Doctor Kim’s priority was the lady of the house.

They are to relieve pressure on the brain caused by the fractured skull and to stop the internal bleeding. They did not tell his older sister anything else. It was a horrific picture of her brother’s head being immobilised to prevent further injury, a trepanation has been done to prevent severe head trauma, his face swollen from all the hits he took from his leader. All for the Kkangpae’s selfish act of desire for his loved one to obey.

She stopped in front of the man whose face was puffy and eyes bright red from all the tears he shredded for his loved one. Now he cries. Daiyu’s mind could not understand the notorious man Min Yoongi is. Nor any of the men of Min Clan. Their women are weeping, yet the reason is not what they assume it is. They weep because of them. Because of the pain they brought upon them. The pain they’ll never admit that ever was there.

“You ruined us all, Yoongi.” No honorific for a man that has done so much damage to her family. He stood there without looking her in the eye and quietly apologising for his doings.

“Missus Park,-” he attempted to raise his voice above the line so she could hear him.

“My mother gave me up to your clan during the first war and after years I made my peace with that, -” he listened to her, standing there like he was the victim.

“Yet you were cocky enough to ask for more?” Her words are laced with bitterness and anger, fuelled by the injustice she feels at the hands of the Min Clan. She vows to never forgive him for the harm he has wrought.

“And yet again my mother gave up Y/N too. But that’s not quite right, hm?” The widow’s heart remains hardened, her anger burning bright as she refuses to grant him absolution for his sins.

“You think you and the rest of your hooligans are clever? Abducting women and forcing them to elope.” A heavy silence descends upon the room, broken only by the muffled sounds of distant footsteps echoing through the hotel corridor. Yoongi is letting her relieve her anger on him. He deserves it.

“Missus Park, I think you’d rather be at your brother’s side, don’t you think?” A smooth low voice echoes right beside her. She turned slowly to face the source, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Standing there, with an air of quiet confidence, was a man she recognized all too well – Kim Taehyung, a trusted associate of the Min Clan.

“You.” She said with venom in her voice. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she regarded him, his presence only adding to the tension in the room. She knew all too well the power and influence he wielded, and she braced herself for whatever he had to say.

“Hyung, go inside, she might wake up any moment now. She’s been through a lot; you should make sure she’s taken care of-”

“How dare you say that!” Daiyu’s voice got an octave higher when she accused the consigliere.

“This is not the time or place for your interference, Missus Park.” Taehyung said, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of warning.

“We all have been through a lot because of you!”

“What on earth you did to make Xiaoli love you so blindly, -” Taehyung’s lips curved into a faint smirk, but there was a hardness in his eyes that belied his demeanour. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. But she refused to be intimidated. She knew that Taehyung’s influence over Xiaoli was a dangerous one and her mind was bothered numerous times.

“Your mother was not as smart as the clans perceived her after all.” The widow’s jaw clenched with anger as Kim Taehyung’s words cut through the air.

“You dare speak of my mother?” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “You and your ilk have no right to claim any semblance of intelligence. You prey on the vulnerable and the innocent, twisting their minds and hearts to serve your own selfish desires-”

“The nature of our private affairs are not something you have the right to be noisy about, Missus Park.” His tone dripped with disdain as he stared at the widow with cold indifference. Daiyu’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain her anger.

“You and your clan have caused nothing but pain and suffering, and yet you have the audacity to stand here and lecture me about privacy?”

Taehyung’s smirk widened; his eyes gleaming with amusement at her outburst. He took another step closer, invading her personal space with an air of arrogance that made her skin crawl.

“We operate by our own rules, Missus Park,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And if you value your brother’s life, you will do well to remember that.”

“This is far from being over. Once my brother recovers, I’m taking them both and Xiaoli to America.”

“Is that so?” he replied, his tone laced with scepticism. Taehyung’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening with barely concealed rage. For a moment, it seemed as though he might lash out in anger, but then he seemed to regain control of himself, his features smoothing into a mask of icy calm.

“You’re welcome to take your brother and go to the far far land but my fiancé and Buin will stay put, end of the discussion, Missus Park. Or do I need to take any precautions — how’s your son?”

She knew all too well the lengths to which the Min Clan would go to protect their interests, and the thought of her son being caught in the crossfire filled her with a sense of dread.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she spat, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t lay a hand on my son.”

“Oh, of course not, we’re not child-killers, Missus Park. But you wouldn’t want me to make sure they take him away as you’re clearly unstable to raise a child.” Taehyung’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with malice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear.

“You all are fucking monsters.” She spit his way and with a flick of fear in her eyes she turns away to storm down the hallways back to the waiting car that will take her to the sanitorium.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, lending an eerie atmosphere to the hushed conversation that unfolded.

Yoongi’s brow furrowed with concern as he glanced at Y/N, her delicate features softened in sleep. He was holding her small hand in his large one, refusing to leave her side.

“Hyung, do you think she could be pregnant?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the gravity of their discussion. Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged a solemn glance, their expressions reflecting the weight of Yoongi’s question.

The older man did not want his brother to be in more pain than he already is.

“It’s certainly possible, —” Seokjin replied softly, his gaze shifting to Y/N’s still form.

“—yet, it’s way too soon to tell.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on Y/N with a mixture of concern and hope.

“Her health and recovery must remain our primary focus.”

A sense of apprehension settled over Yoongi as the reality of their situation sank in. The prospect of impending fatherhood filled him with both excitement and trepidation. His hand possessively slipped under the duvet, caressing her belly with a tender touch. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand, a silent vow of love and protection that lingered in the quiet of the room.

He was determined to never fail her again.

Y/N found herself drifting into a state of peaceful slumber, the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling her into a sense of security she hadn’t known before. A feeling that was for a long time foreign.

Yet, even as sleep beckoned her towards its welcoming arms, a nagging sense of unease lingered at the edge of her consciousness. It was as though a faint whisper echoed through the chambers of her mind.

Images flickered in the darkness, fleeting glimpses of faces and places she couldn’t quite place. It was like trying to catch hold of smoke, the harder she tried to grasp onto them, the more they slipped through her fingers.

And then, amidst the chaos of her mind, a single image emerged from the depths of her subconscious—a flash of silver amidst the darkness, a glimmer of recognition that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.

As Y/N’s dreams began to swirl with fragments of memories she herself did not recognise, she found herself waking with a start, the remnants of a haunting nightmare still lingering in her mind. The boundaries between reality and illusion blurring in the hazy mist of slumber. Beside her, the man stirred, his gaze filled with concern as he noticed the tension in her features.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.

“It was just a bad dream-” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression understanding as he reached out to gently brush away the stray strands of hair that clung to her face. “Nightmares are just the mind’s way of processing the chaos of the world,” he said, his words carrying a weight of wisdom born from years of introspection. “-the unwanted reality we dare not to accept,” he slowly caressed her cheek.

“Sometimes, facing our fears head-on is the only way to conquer them.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice steady despite the lingering unease that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. “It feels like the nightmares are trying to tell me something, -”

“Perhaps they are,” he said, his tone tinged with a hint of curiosity.

“What do you mean?” She asked, shrinking her eyebrows.

“Wake up, little Dove.”

“I don’t want to wake up, Yoongi. I’m wide awake.” Her words proceeded her mind once she uttered them.

Yoongi. Only now she realised that she never uttered his name out loud this whole time. His name is Yoongi. She recognises him now, but this man is not the one she married.

This man is the one the other will never be.

“Are you?”

The warmth of the bed was replaced by the sterile chill of a sanitised room, the soft breathing beside her now replaced by the distant sound of metal clinking against itself.

Her eyes fluttered open to meet the gaze of Seokjin, the doctor who had been overseeing her treatment. There was a sombreness in his eyes, a depth of understanding that spoke of the gravity of the situation.

Her initial reaction wasn’t one of shock or panic but rather a stoic silence whilst she looked around the room. Just yet. That was giving the young doctor a hunch that her mind is stronger than anyone ever thought it is.

“Y/N,-” he began, his voice gentle yet firm. He carefully placed the file he was holding in his hand back to the nightstand next to the bed. Seokjin didn’t want to trigger her. He needed her to be as calm as possible.

“What did you do to me?” A hoarse broken voice laced with pain echoed in the room. It was barely heard and the immense pain on the side of her throat got her head spinning. The sight of Yoongi’s rage-filled eyes flooded back to her mind, the desperation of her attempt to protect Kai from his wrath. She instinctively reached up to touch the bandages that now adorned her neck, wincing.

“You mean, what did you do to yourself?” he replied softly, his words heavy with implication.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality of her actions sunk in. The realisation that she had tried to take her own life filled her with a sense of profound despair.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “There was no stopping him. He would have—” it was hard to swallow, it was harder to breathe, painful to speak and just like countless times before, it was harder to see through the tears.

“Is Kai alive?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin met her gaze with a solemn nod, Y/N felt a sliver of hope pierce through the darkness that had consumed her. Perhaps, amidst the chaos, there was still a chance for redemption, for healing.

“He’s going to make a full recovery in a few weeks,” he said softly, his words a balm to her wounded spirit.

“But you need to heal too—”

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded in silent agreement, the weight of her own pain pressing down upon her like a burden too heavy to bear.

“Little birdie sang that you promised to make a snowman with a certain little man.” The little boy was a reminder of the love and happiness that still existed in her life despite the darkness that surrounded her.

“Can I sleep some more?”

Before she managed to drift back to sleep, Seokjin quietly went about checking her vitals, his experienced hands moving with precision as he monitored her condition. With a deep sigh, he made a mental note to bring her iron pills to help replenish the blood she had lost. Looking at her bandaged neck, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her academic background would totally exclude the possibility that this petite woman wouldn’t know how to kill herself with that one swipe of a letter opener if she aimed correctly. And that made Seokjin suspicious of the young Buin’s intentions and endorsed him into believing that after all, the girl still has some fire to burn and will to live. She just needed good guidance, he thought.

“How is she?” The Kkangpae rushed to approach him once he closed the door to his office. It was very hard to convince him to leave her side. She was asleep for a while and Seokjin did not advise on waking her up anytime soon until she woke up herself. With conflicting emotions, he turned to face his dishevelled form.

“She wants to sleep some more, otherwise she’s stable, but—” Seokjin replied, his voice tinged with weariness.

“—she’s lost a significant amount of blood so I’m going to have her take iron pills—”

The Kkangpae’s brow furrowed in worry, his gaze flickering back to the closed door behind Seokjin.

“I want to see her,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation when he interrupted his Hyung.

Seokjin hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks of disturbing Y/N’s rest against the Kkangpae’s obvious concern. Ultimately, he decided to trust his instincts.

“We need to talk first, Yoongi.” Seokjin said firmly. The Kkangpae nodded reluctantly, his shoulders slumping with defeat. Not happy with Seokjin’s stalling. Nonetheless, Seokjin could sense the tension radiating off him, the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on his shoulders.

“You pushed her way too far, Yoongi—” the doctor begins, slumping down to the low cushion sofa looking at the faded yet evident scraped puddle of blood on the wooden floor.

“I want you to consider me helping her.”

Yoongi’s blood ran cold at the mention of such a drastic measure to be taken. He knew of the doctor practising such methods and he knew of them being successful once two living and walking examples were among them.

“We’ve talked about this Seokjin, and I declined your offer. She doesn’t need it.”

Seokjin’s gaze hardened, his eyes locking onto Yoongi's with unwavering intensity.

“Are you ever going to accept the truth Yoongi? She is suffering here!” Yoongi’s jaw tightened; his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to control the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He knew that Seokjin was right. But he was also still the selfish man he was before.

“She’s my responsibility, Seokjin,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll find another way to help her. I won’t let you do this to her unless it will be absolutely necessary.”

Seokjin’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I know you love her, Yoongi,” he said gently. “But sometimes, loving means making difficult decisions for the greater good.”

Yoongi couldn’t continue to bury his head in the sand, hoping that Y/N’s pain and suffering would simply disappear on its own and perhaps the moment she heals she’ll be capable of falling in love with him just like he did.

“Just how long can you go without your love being reciprocated?”

Seokjin’s question echoed in Yoongi’s mind, a painful reminder of the unrequited love that had tormented him for so long.

He couldn’t bear the thought of robbing her of her identity, of erasing the very essence of who she was. The essence he loved her for. But now, faced with the prospect of losing her altogether, Yoongi couldn’t bear the thought of erasing the very qualities that had drawn him to her in the first place. He loved her for her fire, for the strength and passion that burned within her.

He wanted to keep her flame alive.

How ironic, isn’t it?

Waking up again felt even worse than the first time. The dizziness remained and a strong feeling of fatigue only reminded her of what she had called upon herself. The bed seemed to mock her with its warmth, the pillow unyielding beneath her. It was a bit firmer for some reason and a heartbeat echoed in her ears.

Her hand went up the sheets until another hand fell upon hers. The bed was not warmer, the pillow was not firmer and the heartbeat she hears isn’t hers. The fingers, adorned with cold metal rings that now laid on top of her smaller hand squeezed hers in firmer grip. What was supposed to be a comforting touch seemed like shackles to Y/N.

Y/N gulped down, trying to not slap his hand right away just like she wanted to. The pit in her stomach was larger and larger. She did not know what to expect from him. Is he going to punish her? Is he mad? Does he have the right to be mad? Of course not. But for what is to come, Y/N would rather him mad and angry.

“I am so sorry, little Dove.”

His voice shattered her thoughts and Y/N’s eyes stayed wide open, just staring up front. He was holding her laying form on his chest and she could feel his other hand caressing her back. He held her way too close, as if trying to mend what he had broken with his other hand.

“I thought I was going lose you,” he choked out, confessing, his grip tightening. She pulled away with swift movement, sitting up to confront him and look down on his half laying form.

“You’ve almost killed him, and the only remorse you feel is for me?!”

Her weak voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief, her eyes flashing with hurt as she confronted him. Her vocal cords were not as damaged, yet her throat was too sore for her voice to be heard fully. The weight of his actions hung heavy in the air, suffocating the space between them. Guilt etching lines on his face as he met her accusing gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“The words you said before, back home, got to me, and I lost control. I did not mean for any of this, Dove. I am genuinely sorry,” he finally managed to utter, his voice thick with regret. His eyes pleaded for her understanding, begging for forgiveness in the face of his unforgivable mistake.

Despite the hurt and betrayal, she felt a small part of her longed to believe him, to believe that he was capable of change. But she knew very well that the Yoongi starring in her dreams is a completely different man. The scars of his actions ran deep, leaving behind wounds that could not be easily healed.

“You crushed his skull, Yoongi,” she said with a stone-cold anger, her voice laced with an icy fury that sent shivers down his spine. He messed up.

“And I shall do everything to redeem myself. I love you, baby-” He knew he had to make things right, to earn back her trust and repair the damage he had done. How could he earn something back if it was never there?

“You don’t love me, Yoongi. You love the idea of having me under your control!” Each syllable drips with bitterness and resentment. He lifted himself on his elbows to look closer to her teary eyes. They reflected so much pain and sorrow.

“You know that’s not true. I’ll do anything for you.” He insisted, his voice trembling with sincerity as he reached out to gently wipe away her tears whence she slapped his hand off.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she spat, her voice sharp with venom. She stood up, putting distance between them, but he refused to let her go. The weight of his actions had left her wounded, her trust shattered beyond repair. She could no longer bear the false promises and empty gestures that had become their relationship.

“Did I have to reach the edge of despair for you to wake up?” Her words cut through the silence, echoing with the pain of her betrayal.

“I was scared of losing you,” His voice trailed off, the weight of her accusation hitting him like a ton of bricks. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of his fear and regret, knowing that no apology could ever fully erase the pain he had caused.

“You never had me to begin with.” She said, her voice filled with finality. But he wouldn’t accept it. The ancient melody, the notes that echoed in the silence, screamed, full of wounds that will never heal.

“Promise me you’ll never do that again, love. Hurt me, not yourself.” He pleaded again trying to reach her, his voice breaking with emotion as he reached out to grasp her trembling hands, hoping against hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him, to give their love another chance. He cannot let her words get to him again.

“Again?!-” she retorted, her voice laced with disbelief and incredulity. She wondered if he’s even worthy of her pretending. Her hands went to hit his chest, pushing him away from her.

“-You think there’s going to be fucking again, Yoongi?!” Her words were sharp, cutting through the air with the finality of a verdict. A flying cup shattered right next to his head. He did not even register when she took it into her hands and threw it at him, missing him just by a few inches.

“I’ll do anything to have you by my side. Dove, I beg you.” Min Yoongi pleaded, his voice breaking again. On his knees, Min Yoongi bowed his head in remorse.

“You’ll never change, Yoongi.” The weight of disappointment was evident in her words as she turned away, unable to bear the sight of him at that moment. But the selfish side of Min Yoongi wouldn’t let her do that.

He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close, not leaving an inch between them.

“I can’t fucking live without you-” his voice cracked, raw with desperation and longing, tears welled up in his eyes, begging for her to understand the depth of his love.

“-without those arms,” he continued, his voice softening with the memories of their intimacy.

“-full cheeks-”

“-lips,” he whispered, each word a plea for her to see the love and longing in his eyes.

“Yoongi, I cannot do this anymore.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop like a heavy weight in his chest. He collapsed onto his knees before her, his arms wrapping desperately around her delicate frame.

“I’m so tired of the pain in my chest,” she admitted, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

He had pushed her too far, hurt her too deeply, and now he stood on the precipice of losing her forever.

“I was ready to die—”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Dove” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of emotions raging inside him. Y/N glanced at his trembling hands and thought about his words for a second. Contemplating his sincerity.

It was his eyes this time that cried. The endearment sounds different coming from this version of Yoongi. It felt so distant from the Yoongi she had once met in her dreams. The man he’ll never be.

“I can make it better. Just let me in and I’ll show you how happy we can be.” Min Yoongi promised, his eyes filled with sincerity. He’s haunted by the knowledge that he just might have let the love of his life slip through his fingers.

“You’re really that delusional, aren’t you?” Y/N questioned; her voice laced with disbelief.

“Aren’t we all? -” Min Yoongi replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me another chance.”

Y/N remained silent; her expression guarded as she wrestled with her own emotions. Her mind swirled with thoughts and even when she tried to say something, an inaudible cry of frustration, sadness and anger was heard.

Min Yoongi slumped down to his knees, holding her small hands in his. Looking at her with hope in his eyes.

“I beg you.” He pleaded once more for her forgiveness. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find even the smallest glimmer of something that would tell him that he’ll manage to woo her right this time.

If she could walk away, she would do it right now. But this isn’t her que to leave the scene. Just not yet. Be patient.

“Your beloved God shall decide upon your fate, Yoongi-”

“Upon the fate of us,” she continued to preach.

“What do you—”

“Should God spare his life, I’ll consider forgiving you,” she interrupted, her voice firm.

“Then let it be so,” he said, his voice filled with determination and hope.

Y/N was clutching the delicate cup of tea in her hands whilst her eyes remained fixed on the outside surroundings of the hotel. Riling herself up was something she was told to seize. Yet, there she stands, ready to run outside any minute.

“He’s trying, you know,” Xiaoli said softly, following Y/N’s gaze. “In his own way, he’s trying to make things right.”

The sight was both heart-warming and heartbreaking, a glimpse of the man he used to be and the man he could still be.

“Well, he certainly knows how to evoke emotional damage.” Y/N sighed, her eyes lingering on Yoongi’s figure adorned in a warm coat. His hands were covered with leather gloves that protected him from the frostbiting cold snow.

“People can heal.”

“Some wounds run too deep to heal completely,” Y/N glanced at Xiaoli, her eyes searching for understanding that she will most likely never find.

“Love has a way of healing even the deepest wounds-” Xiaoli reached out, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. Y/N scoffed, her eyes never leaving the Kkangpae and her little brother Bo Cheng. Building a snowman. It was a picture of normalcy; his current actions were mocking the magnitude of his power and acts he performed to obtain it.

Min Yoongi was on top of the world. One day, the prime minister of Japan expresses his gratitude for clearing the Yakuza clan and unburdening the country, the other, he’s powerless when the woman he chose to be his companion throughout life, and what’s after, paints the floor red with her own blood.

“Relax, Y/N Buin.” The other voice echoed from the other side of the room. She was clutching the cup way too tightly, making her knuckles go white. She hated when people called her Buin. It did not evoke power in Y/N, rather the opposite. It was a reminder that she is the lady of this clan because Yoongi forced her into this position.

The room felt heavy with tension, each word from Xiaoli pulling at the raw edges of her emotions. The far away sound of Bo Cheng’s laughter when he threw a large snowball Yoongi’s way.

“You did not see him that day,” Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with pain and regret.

“The darkness in him consumed him.”

“I saw him after that—”

“-He’s trying to make amends now,” Xiaoli said gently, her hand tightening around Y/N’s.

“I wish I could believe that he’s capable of change, Xiaoli.” The rustle of newspaper reminded her of the other presence in the room. The consigliere silently worked at the table, overviewing contracts Y/N daren’t deem anything but legal. The other man present in the room was now folding the said newspapers, standing up and walking in the direction where Xiaoli and Y/N stood by the large window.

“Never in my entire fucking life I have thought that I will see Min fucking Yoongi build a snowman-” Hoseok spat out jokingly, his disbelief evident. There was even a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Y/N’s grip on the teacup relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained fixed on the scene outside the whole time.

“He just might be able to change, we all do-” he began, leaning down to her height level, admiring the velvet rose pins holding her hair in an updo.

“for lov—”

“Jiě jie! Have you seen the snowman we built?!” Y/N’s eyes brightened at the sound of Bo Cheng’s voice. The change in her expression was immediate.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes, dear. It’s marvellous.”

Bo Cheng’s delighted laughter echoed across the snowy expanse as he ran back outside to Yoongi, pulling him towards their creation.

Hoseok, witnessing Y/N’s transformation, teased, “See? He’s not all bad. Look at how happy he makes your brother.”

“One snowman doesn’t erase the past, Hoseok.”

Hoseok laughed, conceding with a nod, “Fair enough, Y/N. Fair enough.”

“What about two?” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. But the daunting feeling never left her as she watched him and her little brother.

“Is he asleep?” She asked quietly, trying to restrain her voice as much as possible. The best was not to overload the muscles of her throat at all. She talks very little but thinks a lot. That certainly is not the best situation for someone like Y/N.

Her mind takes her to places. To those she visited and those she is yet to see. The “Yoongi” comes back to her in dreams from time to time, and Y/N’s mind cannot grapple with why it is happening so. What is the cosmos trying to show her?

“He is usually stubborn to go to sleep if it’s not for Ma reading him a story-” The younger sister began to rely upon her never-ending gratitude to her beloved leader. Safe to say, she shifted her loyalty without having to pledge it first.

“-thank you, Kkangpae Min, you’re marvellous with children.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xiaoli. Not like she was cautious to not get caught doing so, Xiaoli did see her doing so, poking her elbow to express her gratitude to Yoongi too.

“What?” Y/N asked her. Xiaoli was easier to manipulate, easier to forget, and easier to forgive. Y/N wasn’t, she would let him feel the chasm in between them before she made her move to wrap him around her finger.

“Aren’t you grateful for such a caring husband?”

The loud silence echoed in the room, making everyone uncomfortable. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed very loudly. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Xiaoli-” Y/N has begun only for Xiaoli to not let her speak.

“No, Y/N, he’s at least trying. You never did-” her younger sister interrupted her instantly. Y/N looked into Yoongi’s eyes, for the first time since he crossed the door threshold after he put Bo Cheng to bed. She did not know what she was looking for, yet she expected him to speak up.

“Xiaoli-” she attempted again but this time it was Yoongi who interrupted her.

“Mrs. Wang, I appreciate your concern, but me and Y/N shall resolve our marital issues without your guidance.”

Yoongi’s voice was calm, but there was a firmness to it that made the room go still. Xiaoli’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by his assertiveness. Y/N’s gaze locked onto his again, searching for a hint of what he was thinking. She raised her brows at his diplomatic words to her sister.

Not wanting to admit it, Y/N enjoyed the guilt in Xiaoli’s eyes. Yet it was Yoongi she apologised to and not her.

“Well, I would say that is our cue to leave those two alone, love,” Taehyung murmured all the way from across the office where he was still seated. The room was quiet enough that everyone heard him.

“I meant well.” Was the last thing Y/N heard before Xiaoli and Taehyung got too far away for them to hear anything.

Yoongi took a deep breath, breaking the silence.

“She can be a lot, the sister of yours.”

Y/N chuckled softly, wiping away a stray tear. They sat down by the fireplace.

They always do. He reached out, taking her hand.

“How was your day?” He said gently. For the past week, she wasn’t avoiding him - she was avoiding the talks he wished to have with her to reconcile.

“Jimin told me you went to visit Kai today.”

Y/N’s eyes widened momentarily before she looked away, her grip tightening around the fabric of her dress. Yoongi’s thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, a gesture meant to be comforting, but it only intensified the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

“Seokjin says he is getting better slowly.” She hesitated to talk, biting her lip. Kai was a sore subject between them, yet Yoongi realised that’s where his only chance of a life with her lay. He agreed upon her terms of forgiving him, seizing any opportunity to keep her by his side.

“And so do you, but I would love to hear that from you, Dove.”

“It still pains me to talk, and I get dizzy if I stand for too long.” Yoongi’s heart ached as he heard her soft confession. He knew all too well what her condition was and that he was the sole reason for it.

There wasn’t a day, an hour where he did not think about what he could have done differently with her. Maybe if he told her the truth at the very beginning, she’d let him woo her. But he’ll never know that. The damage was done, and he’ll have to build their relationship from scratch.

Yoongi hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Y/N’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

“I’m sorry, Dove,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Y/N gave him a weak smile. It wasn’t a warm smile, it was not genuine, and it certainly did not reflect the emotion Y/N was holding in.

“Then why lead me to this state?” Yoongi’s eyes filled with guilt, his grip on her hand tightening. For the first time, Yoongi rethought all the decisions he had made since he settled his eyes on her. There wasn’t a day he did not think about what would be different if he would’ve been honest with her. Would she fall in love with him?

“We don’t have time for that, Hyung.” The voice of his right-hand man echoed in his mind. He listened to him, and here they are. Broken.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Dove—” Yoongi’s tears threatened to fall as he watched the woman he loved struggle with the pain he had caused.

“And that there is way too much damage done, but I burn for you, and I always will.” She only listened to him, there was no need to answer.

“I will wait for you until you are ready.”

“We had a deal.” Her eyes slowly flattered open upon hearing his low baritone voice. She gulped down carefully, wincing at the still evident pain in her throat. She squinted her eyes at the change of lighting. She was wondering whether he would pay her visit. Several weeks passed and here he is. Kim Namjoon in his full glory, ready to get on her nerves.

“Where’s Yoongi?” Looking at the empty side of the bed she asked, not minding his words. He sneaked late in the night, thinking she was dead asleep and left her room too early in the morning. She has let him do that. It will only help her in the future.

“We had a deal,” Namjoon repeated, his voice firm and unwavering as he was seated in the armchair next to her bed, his gaze fixed on her with a mixture of concern and disappointment.

“And we still have a deal, don’t we?” She asked rather mockingly, her tone laced with sarcasm, pulling herself up to sit on the bed. Her eyes still not used to the lighting she blindly reached to a glass of water that was on the nightstand to ease her throat of the uncomfortable dryness burning inside.

“You attempted to kill yourself. I’d count that as violating our deal,” he stated bluntly. Y/N’s jaw clenched as she listened to Namjoon's accusation, a surge of defensiveness rising within her. The man and his tactics irked her.

She knew she had pushed the boundaries of their agreement, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Not to him at least.

“It was a moment of weakness, okay? I’ve had enough at that point.” Namjoon’s gaze remained steady, unmoved by her protestations. As if he saw right through her.

“Do you want us to throw you into a mental house? Is that what you’re trying to do?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her.

“You all would have to throw yourself in first.”

She refused to back down, refused to let him belittle her struggles or dictate her fate. Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water, her knuckles turning white with tension as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her. Namjoon’s words felt like a slap in the face, a harsh reminder of her own vulnerability and the consequences of her actions.

He chuckled at her response. The sound grating on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“As I said, it was a moment of weakness, there was no different means to stop him—”

“Maybe if you didn’t provoke him before, he wouldn’t do it, Y/N.”

“I did not provoke him. I did not ask for any of this,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she glared at Namjoon. She wanted to throw the glass at him so badly.

“Yet here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And whose fault is that, Namjoon? Certainly not mine.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened at her defiance, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes with unwavering intensity.

“You’re just like him, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “Stubborn. Refusing to see reason. Refusing to accept help. We had a deal goddammit—”

“With all due respect, Namjoon. I do not trust you nor your intentions to actually send me over to America once the time is up.” He had expected her defiance, but her lack of trust cut deeper than he cared to admit. He did not know why in detail. But it was for the greater good that the Buin and Kkangpae will be a power role model couple for their clan.

“You don’t trust me?” he repeated, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. Ridiculous.

“Trust is earned, Namjoon,” she retorted, her voice unwavering despite the tremor in her heart. “And you haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you.” His frustration was simmering beneath the surface.

“Aight.” He said after some time of thinking.

“What do you want?” He asked, intrigued about what would make her trust him. Y/N’s gaze narrowed; her expression guarded as she considered Namjoon’s question.

“Assurances.”

“Name it.”

“I want Xiaoli, Kai, Daiyu and her son out of here. Somewhere overseas. Unharmed and not to be bothered again.” His expression conflicted as he weighed the implications of her request. The smirk on his face was still present.

“Xiaoli is betrothed to Taehyung, and she is so of her own volition. You yourself gave them your blessing, Buin.” Y/N’s tongue clicked unsatisfied with his words.

“Give her the courtesy and at least give her the chance to decide, without your influence.” He knew she had a point, even if he was reluctant to admit it. The power dynamics within their world were complex, and he had grown accustomed to wielding his influence with impunity. The holy seven always did so.

“Fine,” he conceded, his tone grudging. “I’ll make sure Xiaoli has a chance to make her own decisions. But you’re pushing your luck, Yoongi may not—,”

“He will agree.” She stated resolutely. Namjoon’s eyebrows rose slightly at Y/N’s bold assertion, surprised by her unwavering confidence.

“Very well,” Namjoon replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll speak to Yoongi and I’ll arrange for them to sail away once Kai is well enough to travel, but only if you promise to uphold your end of the deal and it’s new conditions”

“What conditions?” She asked, utterly confused. This was about him earning her trust. But of course, Kim Namjoon would somehow manage to manipulate his way through.

“Forgive him, Y/N. That’s what I’m asking for. It’s been weeks since Kai can stand on his own feet. Talk, walk, eat, everything. Why’d you still not uphold your side of the deal?”

A weighty silence enveloping the room as Y/N processed his words. The idea of forgiving Yoongi felt like an impossible task, a betrayal of everything she had endured at his hands. She could not find a word that would describe what she feels now.

“Holding onto anger and bitterness will only continue to weigh you down. Death would be redemption, yet you are still here, living and breathing by God’s will and doing.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“When is he planning to do it?” She spoke softly, her words laced with urgency and caution.

“I don’t know-” she murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But I can’t bear the thought of Bo Cheng witnessing such a horror.”

Daiyu’s eyes darted around the dimly lit corridor, wary of lurking shadows and prying ears.

“We must leave this place, Y/N,” she urged, her voice a breathless whisper.

“I can’t-” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her gaze dropping to the floor as a wave of despair washed over her.

“—not yet, at least.” Daiyu placed a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“But you will-” Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Daiyu’s gaze hardened.

“-And you’ll take Bo Cheng with you. Even Ma if we will be clever enough.”

“Xiaoli?” she inquired cautiously.

“Xiaoli doesn’t share our sentiments. Taking her against her will would make me no better than them.” Daiyu nodded, understanding the complexity of Y/N’s feelings towards Xiaoli.

“He won’t let us all go,” said Daiyu, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. In normal circumstances, he would never give a green pass to anyone from inside of their clan. Especially, to the closer circle. But the circumstances were not normal. And as he spoke himself numerous times at this point. He will do everything to keep her by his side.

“He will. If I promise to stay.”

“But that’s-”

“It’s not my time yet, Daiyu—” she interrupted her quickly.

“But it will come.”

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: this took me longer than I thought, mainly coz of life getting in my way, but nonetheless, chapter 8 is here. So far, this is the most I'm sceptical about chapter so yeah, nervous to put it out. Yoongi's got a taste of his own medicine to some degree and maybe finally he'll start to see things differently. Do you believe Yoongi can change for her? Hmm? We will see. Enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading and continuing to read the story 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

PS: I hope you don't hate Xiaoli entirely coz I have a filler one-shot mapped out in my head 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

PPS: accounts highlighted cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83

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leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld · 2 months

Text

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter One – Disgusting Humans}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER.

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: Alpha White Lion

Min Yoongi: Alpha White Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin: Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

Words: 2.4k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: The following chapter contains sensitive and distressing subject matter, including references to child rape, kidnapping, and child trafficking. If you find such topics triggering or uncomfortable, I encourage you to exercise self-care and consider avoiding this particular chapter. Your mental and emotional well-being always come first.

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

~Valentino Mansion~

3RD PERSON'S POV

Heaven Valentino, a skilled and determined woman, had just finished a rigorous training session at her gym. With precision and composure, she fired round after round at a target dummy, hitting the bullseye every time. Satisfied with her performance, she exited the gym and began making her way back to her room.

As she walked, a voice called out to her,

"Ms. Valentino?" It was her secretary and trusted right-hand man, Park Hyung-jae, hurrying to catch up with her.

Curious, she turned to face him. "Yes, Jae?"

"Someone is requesting your presence," Jae informed her, the urgency evident in his voice.

Heaven's sharp mind instantly assessed the situation.

"Who is it, and what role do they play?" she calmly inquired.

Jae answered without missing a beat.

"Choi Woobin, Chief Executive General Officer," he replied, conveying that the person in question held a position of significance.

"Very well," she replied nonchalantly.

"Set up an appointment for two in the afternoon. If he fails to arrive on time, I will not entertain him. Punctuality is of utmost importance to me."

With that, she moved on, resolute in her decision. It was typical of her to make swift judgments and take charge of her own schedule, refusing to waste time on those who did not value timeliness.

Her composed demeanor left Jae slightly taken aback.

"Well, that was easier than I expected," he mused to himself, shrugging off the surprise. With a sense of relief, he left to fulfill his assigned tasks.

~Heaven's Room~

Heaven's POV

Ah, I knew it wouldn't take long for him to come begging. I could see right through his façade, right from the start. You see, there are very few things that I despise more than tardiness, laziness and liars.

Hybrid abusers.

Growing up as the youngest daughter of the illustrious Valentino family, I've had my fair share of enemies. From the moment I entered this world, there were those who sought to bring me down, to harm me, or even to kidnap me, all in an attempt to weaken my family. But these feeble-minded individuals could never succeed.

Many assumed that, as a wealthy and privileged young woman, I would be nothing more than a spoiled brat with no ability to defend herself.

But oh, how wrong they were.

From the day I could walk and comprehend the world around me, I have been trained relentlessly.

The Valentinos believe in honing the skills and fortitude of their children, regardless of their gender. So, from the tender age of four, I began my journey towards becoming a force to be reckoned with.

By the time I reached fifteen, I had accomplished what most could only dream of. I graduated high school with a flawless 5.0 GPA. But my thirst for knowledge was insatiable, leading me to a prestigious university known as the "Gifted Souls."

In just a few short years, I secured a PhD in psychology, a Masters in business, and even delved into the realm of fashion. I achieved all of this by the tender age of twenty-two, and now, at the age of twenty-three, I am well on my way to solidifying my empire and making a name for myself.

The professors at my university were astounded by my brilliance, bestowing upon me the moniker of the 'female version of Albert Einstein.' But, I paid little attention to such trivialities.

My single-minded focus was on gaining knowledge and establishing myself as a force in the business world. I aim to take over one of my parents' companies, the very essence of the Valentino empire.

People may see me as a woman who walks with an iron fist. When they encounter me, they don't think of mesad merely as Heaven of the Valentino family, they see Heaven Valentino, a woman who commands respect and exudes power.

Some have even had the audacity to refer to me as the ice princess, the demoness and a sadist. But I take such labels in stride because I know the true strength that lies within me.

As an individual who values efficiency and productivity, I possess a limited tolerance for trivial matters or individuals who impede progress.

In the circle with which I surround myself, idleness and unproductive behavior have no place.

Vigilance remains paramount, as there are perpetually individuals plotting one's downfall or even one's demise, and I personally acknowledge the latter as the ultimate threat.

Over time, I have accumulated a considerable list of adversaries. The number of instances where I have inadvertently provoked others is too extensive to accurately quantify, such is the nature of my assertive personality.

When confronted with something disagreeable or incongruous to my stated preferences, I swiftly take decisive action.

The ability to discern and rectify undesirable situations is a responsibility I take seriously, akin to the saying,

"With great power comes great responsibility."

In my case, this responsibility is focused solely on my survival.

While some may perceive my approach as cold or detached, it is merely a matter of survival in a world where dangers often lurk beneath the surface.

In conclusion, my aversion to nonsense and unwavering commitment to productivity have inevitably resulted in the development of numerous adversaries.

This is an outcome I readily accept due to the assertive nature of my character.

My consistent and immediate response to unfavorable circumstances is driven by a sense of responsibility towards self-preservation.

Ultimately, it is this unwavering dedication to my own well-being that helps me navigate the precarious landscape of existence.

I felt my eyes narrow as I thought about the man who had recently come into my crosshairs,

Mr. Choi, the Chief Executive General Officer of Seoul National Police.

To the public, he was a respected figure in his early fifties, but I knew the dark secrets that lurked beneath his facade.

Mr. Choi's wife had tragically succumbed to stage four cancer, leaving him without any children to carry on his legacy.

Many saw him as a pillar of the community, a dedicated servant of the people. But I saw through the facade to the truth - he was a twisted, solipsistic man who had been engaged in despicable acts.

It was a revelation that had shaken me to the core when I had discovered that Mr. Choi was involved in taking bribes from hybrid traffickers.

The thought of such corruption within the ranks of law enforcement made my blood boil.

But what truly turned my stomach was the knowledge that he was also a child rapist and a sadistic individual who derived pleasure from the suffering of others.

Only I and my uncle knew the extent of Mr. Choi's depravity. My uncle ran a Hybrid facility called Hybrid Heaven (HH), dedicated to rescuing hybrids from abuse and capturing traffickers who sought to exploit them for profit.

When my uncle had uncovered Mr. Choi's involvement in these heinous activities, he had turned to me for help in bringing him to justice.

With the help of my loyal team of associates, I had quickly gathered evidence of Mr. Choi's crimes. It was not difficult to connect the dots once they realized that a police officer was complicit in covering up the illegal activities of hybrid trafficking.

And when Mr. Choi's name had surfaced as the linchpin in the operation, I wasted no time in setting my plan into motion.

I stood in my room and felt a surge of anger and revulsion towards the man who had committed such atrocities. I knew that he was reaching out in a desperate attempt to cover his tracks, but I also knew that I held the power to bring him to his knees.

With a steely resolve, I prepared myself for the confrontation that lay ahead. I would not rest until Mr. Choi faced the full force of justice for his crimes.

And in that moment, I squared my shoulders and steeled my gaze, I knew that I was ready to confront the darkness that lurked within the heart of a man who had once been seen as a paragon of virtue.

°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°•°•°•°•°•°•°

~Mayás Fashion House~

As I arrived at my company building, the energy in the air shifted as the employees stopped in their tracks to greet me politely. With a nod and a smile, I returned their greetings, keeping the interactions brief.

I made my way to the private elevator that would take me up to the 8th floor where the meeting room awaited.

As the elevator came to a stop, I stepped out and approached the meeting room. The transparent glass walls and doors allowed me to catch a glimpse of Mr. Choi inside, his figure pacing nervously.

I watched as he reached for a handkerchief to dab at his sweat, a reaction that I found somewhat distasteful. Pushing open the doors, I sauntered over to one of the swivel chairs, disrupting Mr. Choi's anxious movements.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Choi," I greeted him calmly, causing him to visibly startle. With hesitant steps, he made his way towards me and took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

"G-good af-afternoon, Ms. Valentino," he stuttered out, clearly flustered by my presence.

"Relax, Mr. Choi. I just need some information from you, and then we'll be done," I reassured him with a light chuckle, meeting his gaze as he averted his eyes and nodded eagerly.

"Good. Now, let's not beat around the bush. Tell me everything you know about the illegal underground Hybrid dealers," I said, leaning back in my chair, a sense of authority evident in my tone.

Mr. Choi hesitated before beginning to speak, revealing details about the underground operation.

He mentioned a mysterious figure known as Black Eagle who orchestrated the kidnapping and sale of hybrids for profit.

The auction took place over five days at a luxurious resort on the outskirts of Seoul, shrouded in secrecy to all but those in attendance.

His eyes met mine as he shared more about the nefarious activities, including a bi-monthly Hybrid auction where rare exotic hybrids were sold off to wealthy clientele with exclusive VIP passes provided by Black Eagle.

I listened intently, absorbing the information and maintaining a composed demeanor throughout.

It was clear that Mr. Choi was apprehensive, but my focused interrogation drew out the pertinent details I needed to pursue further action against the criminal syndicate.

My eyebrows creased as I listened, a mix of disbelief and horror washing over me.

The thought of such a place existing where people indulged in their darkest desires on hybrids, pushing the boundaries of cruelty and exploitation, made my stomach churn with disgust. The depths of depravity that some individuals would sink to astounded me.

He continued, "Participants torture hybrids to feed into their twisted sexual gratification,"

What the actual fuck!

These creatures, who were part human and part animal, deserved compassion and care, not to be subjected to such heinous acts.

It was a stark reminder of the darkest facets of humanity, a side that I never wanted to believe existed.

As the details of the auction event unfolded, each revelation seemed to plunge me deeper into a pit of revulsion.

"They also indulged in the "hunger games" a concept, where the rarest hybrids were paraded and objectified for the amusement of the audience, they would compete to inflict pain and suffering on the hybrid, all for the chance to possess them as prizes."

It felt like a nightmare brought to life. To think of it was sickening beyond words.

My heart ached for the hybrids subjected to such cruelty, for their pain and helplessness in the face of such brutality.

It was a stark reminder of the darker side of society, one that I had never truly comprehended until now.

The callousness and inhumanity displayed towards these creatures left me feeling a deep sense of shame for belonging to the same species.

Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, I forced myself to remain composed, to listen to the grim details of the auction event with a steely resolve.

The urge to lash out in anger and despair clawed at the edges of my composure, but I held onto my restraint, determined to bear witness to the extent of the atrocities being described.

As the final details of the event were laid bare, the mechanics of the auction and the fate of the hybrids outlined in chilling clarity, a cold fury settled over me.

The thought of the buyers participating in such cruelty, of treating living beings as mere objects to be traded and discarded, filled me with a sense of loathing that I had never experienced before.

With a clenched jaw and a heart heavy with sorrow, I steeled myself to hear more, to confront the depths of depravity that lay at the heart of the five-day auction event.

Despite the revulsion and horror that threatened to overwhelm me, I knew that I had to bear witness to the truth, no matter how harrowing it may be.

I made a solemn vow to ensure their safety and vowed to lead them to a life free from such atrocities.

Determination consumed me, and I pledged to keep my promise, declaring my identity as Heaven Valentino.

In the intense confrontation that followed, I confronted Choi Woobin with unwavering resolve, demanding information and justice.

As the truth unfolded and the gravity of his actions came to light, the shock on his face was palpable.

Despite his pleas for mercy, I stood firm, condemning his heinous crimes and refusing to yield to his empty remorse.

Taking charge of the situation, I orchestrated his confession and surrender, unwilling to let him escape accountability.

With a mix of anger and compassion, I ensured that justice prevailed, even as his pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears.

The moment was charged with raw emotions as he was escorted away, a tearful reminder of the consequences of his despicable deeds.

After the intense encounter, I made a call to Jae, seeking solace after the harrowing events.

Exiting the meeting room, I left the company building and made my way back home, reflecting on the tumultuous events that had transpired.

~Unknown Location~

3rd Person's POV

Two hybrids were drained and weak, their bodies suffering from the beatings they received for sleeping in. Locked in a heavily secured cell, they endured days without food or water, leaving their mouths dry and their bodies craving molesols of food. Heavy metal shackles dug into their wrists, leaving painful bruises as a reminder of their captivity.

One of the hybrids expressed a strange premonition to his older brother.

"Hyung, I have a weird feeling," he murmured, his eyes distant.

“What is it?” his brother inquired, concern evident in his voice.

“I feel like something big is going to happen,” the younger one replied, his hybrid instincts alerting him to an unseen future.

As they shared a tense moment, the older brother hoped silently,

'I hope it's not bad, my dear brother.'

°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°○°●°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey lovebugs,

I'm super excited to hear your thoughts on this book!

I added a tad more detail to offer a glimpse into the world of the book, just enough to spark your curiosity without giving away too much. I wanted to provide a little peek behind the curtain to entice you to come along for the ride.

A quick heads up - this book doesn't hold back on the intense stuff. It deals with some heavy, triggering content that might not be everyone's cup of tea. So, fair warning, this is not your typical light and fluffy read. It's raw, real, and might hit close to home for some.

I'm all ears and eager to hear your feedback, so drop a comment and let me know your thoughts.

Thanks a ton for taking the time to check this out and for sharing your thoughts. Your support means the world to me! Let's dive in and see where this wild literary journey takes us. 📚✨

Thanks a ton again!

TAGLIST OPEN!!

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miffette · 10 days

Text

‎𓊆ྀི from the start .ᐟ𓊇ྀི﹒tannies

𓂃 ୨୧ pairing idol!jungkook x fem!fan!idol!reader

𓂃 ౨ৎ summary yeon yn’s infatuation with bts’ jeon jungkook was a continuous repetitive cycle; she picks her feelings up from where she last left them, allowing her mind and body to be consumed by his very presence, before ultimately getting hurt knowing she couldn’t be with him and letting him go. recently however, the cycle broke. yn found herself falling for jungkook, as his junior in the k-idol industry and in their label. the circle became a single line that got longer and longer as time went on, knowing that he was just within her grasp, so close yet so far. yn was getting tired, chasing after him for so many years. the line was surely going to become a circle again, there was no way he felt the same, right? ❛❛confess i loved you, just thinking of you. i know i've loved you from the start..❞

𓂃 ୨୧ warnings gun mention, suicide mention, drowning & funeral mention, mention of skin swelling & itching, suggestive jokes

𓂃 ౨ৎ bangtan sonyeondan, more commonly known as bts, is a south korean boy group that debuted under kim music on june 13, 2013 with their debut single album ‘2 cool 4 skool’. they brought their company out of bankruptcy with the immense accomplishments they achieved both domestically and internationally, paving the flower road to success for other kpop groups globally. since june 15, 2022 bts is prioritising on releasing solo music.

𓂃 ୨୧ kim seokjin﹒’92 liner. the youngest son of kim music’s ceo, consequently he’s seen as someone who benefited from nepotism. even if the nepotism in question was debuting under a bankrupt company with no real way of knowing if you’d be popular. he makes fun of himself for it, regardless. loves his face and aims to protect it at all costs.

𓂃 ౨ৎ min yoongi﹒’93 liner. claims he was forced to join an idol group, but really that’s just him being overdramatic; he just liked the bond that he had with his members to the point where it overshadowed the dawning realisation that he would have to dance for the rest of his career when he didn’t like moving his body at all.

𓂃 ୨୧ jung hoseok﹒’94 liner. the smiling hopeful persona was just that, a persona, during bts’ debut, but eventually it became 90% of his personality, and now a day won’t go by where hoseok won’t smile brightly, have an optimistic attitude and loudly support the people around him. though the same can’t be said for the remaining 10%.

𓂃 ౨ৎ kim namjoon﹒’94 liner. has seen trainees come and go before bts’ lineup was finalised. cannot see a life without his members, but sometimes he feels like being the leader is exhausting, especially when each member’s personality bounces off one another to create a cacophony that makes him want to live in self isolation.

𓂃 ୨୧ park jimin﹒’95 liner. has been almost kicked out of the bts lineup a whopping 15 times. his members, taehyung in specific, won’t let him live it down. in spite of that, he’s so loved that a picture of him standing with his hands on his hips is framed and hung in the company’s lounge room because of how cute he looks in it.

𓂃 ౨ৎ kim taehyung﹒’95 liner. half the time you won’t know what personality you’re gonna get with this one. he could be quiet and sophisticated one day, and then the next he’s rambling in great detail about how he needs a therian girlfriend. however, he has mellowed since debut, he used to be way more unhinged.

𓂃 ୨୧ jeon jungkook﹒’97 liner. hasn’t been in a relationship in a long while, and genuinely so touch starved that it makes him seem like he’s a virgin, albeit that was far from the truth. though, he doesn’t really do anything about it, he’d rather have all his focus on work than anything else. he still can’t help but think that yn is just so cute.

ྀིmasterlist﹒next ྀི

𓂃 ౨ৎ note i wrote a bit on each member just to set the scene even if most of the stuff is stuff y’all already know 😭 && i will have a taglist for this smau if u want to be added send me an ask <3<3 also no mandatory enlistment in this smau!!! yippee!!!!

#🎀 ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ from the start #jungkook smau #jungkook social media au #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts smau #bts social media au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

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linos-luna · 8 months

Text

Bts Yandere Profiles 🔪

Yandere!Bts x Reader

Warnings: Yandere!, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, gaslighting, manipulation

—————————— 🔪 —————————

Namjoon

Manipulative and possessive

He tricked you into this. In fact, he gaslights you all the time! You live at his house now because he convinced you to do so. He didn’t kidnap you. You’re here on your own volition… right?

• He says your family is abusive and not to see them. So you believe him

• brings up your confidence but then suddenly takes it away

• you don’t need a job because he’ll take care of you!

• He wants you to be dependent on him.

• hates when other people look at you.

“Babygirl, your parents are so mean to you. Why do you put up with that?”

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry about stressing at some job!”

“Who was that talking to you?? Don’t lie!”

“Your friends talk behind your back. I’ve seen it!”

“I’m the only one that loves you!”

Jin

Unhinged but loving

Jin is a loving yandere but can’t help being unhinged. He’ll have random outbursts and threaten suicide if you try and leave. Of course… he’d never actually do it…

• he’s calm when he’s suddenly not

• all of the sudden he yells at you then takes it back, then takes the apology back and yells again.

• doesn’t hurt you physically but always puts you on edge.

• doesn’t hide his stalking tendencies.

• in fact, he’ll come straight out of hiding and make himself known. It’s embarrassing for you. But he doesn’t care.

“Ok wait! I didn’t mean it!”

“Don’t leave me! Or I’ll kill myself!”

“Forgive me!”

“Jagiya!! Where are you?!”

Yoongi

Strict but sometimes sweet

Yoongi hates that you make him weak in the knees. He’s not sure why he has such a soft spot for you, but he does. He feels the need to shield you from everything.

• comes off as cold

• keeps you inside all day. Sometimes takes you out at night

• very strict. Don’t talk back to him!

• kinda scary when mad

• but he’s also really sweet. Brings you gifts all the time.

• not much of a cuddly guy but will sometimes allow it. He knows girls like that kinda stuff…

• you want to love him and he can’t seem to resist you…

“What’d you just say to me?!”

“Better watch your mouth, kitten!”

“Do you like roses? I brought you some.”

“Come here, baby. Next to me.”

Hoseok

Bipolar emotions

One moment he’s happy and loving then suddenly cold. Being with him was like walking on eggshells. Half the time you didn’t even know what set him off. But then he smothers you with love. It made you feel bad

• he wants you to have fun and do what you want but also.. doesn’t?

• paranoid that you’re cheating

• constantly accuses you then immediately apologizes

• he’s a little suffocating

• constantly clinging to you

• will threaten you at random then act like nothing happened

“Cheater!!”

“No sorry! I don’t think that!”

“No it’s okay, go have fun…”

“I bought a cake! For what? Our 3 month anniversary!”

Jimin

Psychotic

Jimin is a psychotic yandere. He loves you deeply and will do anything to have you and “keep you safe”… Anything

• very outwardly expresses his love for you

• threatens people around you

• has probably killed someone… who knows 🤷‍♀️

• has a hard time controlling his emotions, whether mad or happy.

• sometimes he laughs when mad, that’s when you know you messed up

• don’t make him angry. He WILL get violent

• he’s stronger than he looks…

“jagiya, stop hiding from me! Don’t make me mad!”

“Don’t be scared, baby. I’m sorry.” *pouts*

Taehyung

Hopeless romantic but also delusional

Taehyung wants the relationship to be something out of a kdrama or romance novel. Everything must be perfect! He loves you even it he’s yelling at you for not doing something right.

• relationship means hugs and kisses. So he gives and expects them daily

• when out, you must ALWAYS hold his hand.

• when out, Taehyung will make sure to dress you so that the both of you match

• call him cute names like: Tae, Baby, Love

• don’t call him Taehyung

• He’ll call you Baby, darling, love, sweetheart, etc

• if you don’t do these things he’ll be not mad but frustrated.

• he will throw a fit..

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be!”

“Sweetheart, look at the new outfits I got for us!”

“No no no!! It’s all wrong!!”

“Why aren’t you holding my hand?? Are you mad?!”

Jungkook

Loving but… obsessive

When you started dating him, everything was great. He spoils you. He texts you every day and is always there when you need him but… he’s also a little weird.

• love bombs you.

• texts you everyday all day. And if you don’t respond right away he freaks out

• stalks you although you didn’t notice at first

• constantly thinks someone is gonna hurt you.

• he’s a strong guy, he might hurt you. But not intentionally!

“I’m sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

*on the phone• “Baby, where are you?? You haven’t answered my texts!”

“Baby I brought you some gifts!” 😁

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts x poc reader #yandere namjoon #yandere suga #yandere jhope #yandere jimin #kpop yandere #yandere jungkook #bts smut #bts angst #bts fic #Bts yandere headcannons

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whyse7vn · 11 months

Text

BOOK CLUB -

[ ot7 x reader ]

MILLIONAIRE CLUB + tae

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: my girl tell me to shut up and i do

hobi: do you have schizophrenia

jk: ong

my girl tell me to shut up i kill myself

yoongi: it’s 6 in the morning

tae: so…

i’ve been seeing someone…

jimin: as in dating??

namjoon: therapy?

hobi: hallucinations?????

y/n: gm 😚

jk: omg my girl online what do i do >.<

jin: send nudes

jk: u first

jin: ?

jk: ??

jin: send it to HER

jk: ohhhhh

yoongi: ur girl?

namjoon: our book is out btw

tae: we wrote a book?

jk: did my story about the aggressive zebra in my room make it in

jimin: what

tae: i don’t remember writing a book

namjoon: no

jk: wtf :/

hobi: he needs to leave those drugs ALONE i’m telling you

jin: awoman

tae: did you write it without me??

y/n: if exo and superjunior are at our doors with ak47’s and bombs in the next 48 hours don’t act surprised

jimin: i could take them all tbh 🥱

jk: in bed?

jimin: stop talking to me

tae: do i still get paid for the book?

namjoon: ur overreacting

jimin: ????

DID YOU NOT SEE WHAT THAT NASTY MANCHILD SAID??????

namjoon: not you

y/n: I AM NOT

they’re gonna come get us i’m not joking

hobi: what if they bring all of nct with them

yk for back up

y/n: the end of bts for realzies

yoongi: dramatic

jk: let’s bomb the sm building

tae: is it like a colouring book?

namjoon: tae stop talking

tae: ur not my girl i don’t answer to you

hobi: where do we get a bomb?

jimin: bet namjoon knows

namjoon: ??

why would i know

jin: but i like shinee

y/n: REAL

we have to think about this

yoongi: still 6 in the morning btw

jimin: okay big ben like???

jin: yoongi can you not be a hater rn

yoongi: get a job

jin: i just wrote a book actually

namjoon: technically

jin: shut the FUCK up

tae: SO YOU DID DO IT WITHOUT ME

hobi: what if we bombed it while shinee wasn’t there

jk: what about nct??

i think they’re cool

jimin: idc what you think tbh

y/n: i agree

jimin: great minds think alike

y/n: make sure shinee and nct are out

ALL of nct

jimin: nvm

jin: isn’t there like 400 of them

lowkey impossible

namjoon: 400 is a major exaggeration

there like 20 of them??

something like that

y/n: gotta make sure marks safe >.<

yoongi: ?

jk: what

tae: is the book only in korean?

jin: someone put a muzzle on him omg

hobi: isn’t he into that?

jin: ur right the only option is to kill myself

jimin: this bomb plan is getting long i’m out

hobi: yikes

same

y/n: hobi :C

hobi: sorry :c

jk: i’m also out i have a new mission

jimin: to shower??

sorry couldn’t help myself

i’m actually not sorry

i could help myself

i like to lie sometimes

jin: kim seokjin is also out

y/n: fine me it’s gonna be me yoongi and joon to save us all then

namjoon: i never said i was in?

y/n: you never said you were out?

namjoon: out

yoongi: i’m not involved

y/n: FINE

you all SUCK

poor lonely y/n will save the day then

assholes

we have to get them first

like are you guys suicidal??

hobi: a bit

y/n: i’m just gonna save myself then

hobi: saving you saving me

i really love nct

y/n: hope they get you first

hobi: i’ll literally become an nct member

i’ll be in wayV

jk: ur not chinese

unless…

jin: wayV isnt nct that’s two different groups??

namjoon: isn’t the group just called nct 127?

jin: like they are all under 127?

yoongi: so what’s nct dream then?

jimin: isn’t there an nct u??

jk: me?

jin: so the people that sung the perfume song are 127 not wayv???

y/n: no dojaejung are a separate unit

but they are also in nct 127

namjoon: what

yoongi: superm is also 127?

jimin: i’m having a stroke

this is so jin core

jin: excuse me??

jimin: ??

hobi: fake fans

you would never understand this nct life i live

namjoon: ur right

yoongi: what is going on

jk: have fun with nct i’ll miss you

jin: i’m back on the plan of bombing sm cuz wtf was that

unnecessary as HELL

down with sm

and all their fucking units

tae: can i get my money from the book now or…

yoongi: why are you still talking about the book

jimin: the broke era is really getting bad

y/n: begging for money is insane

tae: i’m NOT begging

y/n: so what are you doing?

tae: humbly asking for my cut?

i’m a businessman

i’m a millionaire for a reason

namjoon: act like it

tae: um?

rude but i’ll let it slide

pay up

now

someone

anyone

preferably now would be nice

JIMIN DID YOU JUST REQUEST 4K FROM ME WHAT THE HELL??

jimin: don’t have it millionaire?

tae: ofc i do!!!!!

but why in my right mind would i give YOU out off all people any of MY money

y/n: if you are in ur right mind i must be fucking insane oh my god

jin: about to cut some watermelon

hobi: yummy

jk: what if nct are all robots made by russia to spy on all of us

tae: what

jk: i’ll kill mark first

to test the theory

tae: ur not talking about my money and it’s making me itch stfu pls

yoongi: itch?

hobi: are you a crack addict?

jimin: namjoon would know a lot about that

namjoon: no i wouldn’t

stop saying that

jin: this watermelon just squirted on me

feeling violated

y/n: wtf?

hobi: i don’t think that’s normal

jimin: how tf a watermelon squirt

jk: pics

yoongi: what is wrong with you

namjoon: let’s do a phone detox

let’s all turn our phones off

for a month

tae: IM ITCHINGGGGG

jimin: namjoon 1 hour off the drugs

hobi: highkey gross get some cream or something??

jin: right i’m trying to eat here

namjoon: i don’t do drugs

jin: what if i sent a watermelon with a bomb in it to sm

namjoon: leave sm alone

jin: never

i’ll send a bomb for every unit they confused the poor world with

jk: 82

jimin: something about that number seems wrong

jk: 127

yoongi: didn’t laugh

y/n: think you did

tae: itched so hard i’m bleeding

hobi: we’re gonna let them kill tae before the bombs are sent right?

tae: ??

jin: that’s stupid

tae: right like 😭😭

jin: ofc lmao

tae: what

y/n: now we have a book out can we start a book club

namjoon: that would be cute

yoongi: idk if tae knows how to read like that

jk: i love boobs

*books

i SWEAR I MEANT TO SAY BOOKS

PLS BELIEVE ME

jimin: i don’t believe you

jk: PLS

tae: i love the sound of “book club”

hobi: ???

y/n: “book club”??

tae: what?

jin: he’s gonna say something dumb

tae: book club is code for sex?

jin: told you

y/n: what

hobi: bro

jk: it is?

yoongi: no

tae: guys i think ur getting old

all the kids know that

jk: i would like to try book club

did i say it right?

like the kids would

tae: no it’s gotta be more like

wanna join my book club 😉

jk: wanna join my book club 😉

tae: perfect

jk: i don’t have a book club tho

tae: that doesn’t matter

jk: i don’t like lying

i don’t think i can do this

yoongi: same

yoongi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: he’s mad he’s old

doesn’t know the slang of todays children

jin left left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lame

@y/n wanna join my book club 😉

y/n left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jk: DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT YOU NASTY LITTLE LIAR

jk left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lol wtf he mad as hell

hobi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jimin left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

namjoon: i really hope the person that you’re seeing is actually a therapist

namjoon left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

389 notes · View notes

becomingbts · 2 years

Text

Find a Way (16)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: angst-fluff-supernatural-series

Warning(s): deals with suicide and death. If you’re not comfortable with that subject, I suggest you don’t read it. Supernatural au.

12.6k

Summary: “If you accept, you’ll go back in time each time you’ll fail.” “I don’t care, I’ll save her no matter what.”

In 2011, he left everything behind so that he could follow his dreams. Yet, he also left his best friend, the one who supported him to go to the auditions, the one who cheered for him, the one who brought him banana milk when he felt down, but also the one who killed herself a day before he finally came back home.

Notes: HI HI HI!!! I’m excited about this chapter and I'm SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE IT! But to be fair, it’s longer than I’m usually writing for this series, and the epilogue should be up next week (already done, just need yo proofread)! We are one chapter away from the end, this is weird for me to close this series as it’s one of the first I started here. I hope you enjoyed it despite my lack of frequent updates, the ending is coming !! I hope you’ll like it, please leave a comment if you have time!! It always feels awesome to see what you guys thought of it ! Let’s get into this long-ass chapter!

Admin Dolly

Chapter 15 - here - Epilogue

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

This wasn't possible, how could it be?

She was safe, she told him that they would "maybe" see each other, she even texted him! She couldn't have ended her life again, right?

...Right?

Jungkook pulled his hair, mentally screaming. He, for sure, wasn't expecting it all. Why? Why the hell would she do it again after everything? If he could go back to the previous timeline, he would go back to her car with her, make sure she'd reach home safely and-

"Jungkook? Is something wrong? You've been screaming!" Taehyung and Seokjin shouted worried as they came in without knocking, clearly too panicked to think of anything. Jungkook blinked uneasy; he had not realized that what he had believed to be doing mentally had actually been very real. Jungkook had yelled quite loudly, worrying his members.

"Ah- just... Just a nightmare, I'm sorry for worrying you guys." Jungkook sighed, still confused and disoriented.

"Do.. you want to talk about it?" Seokjin offered, smiling soothingly. He knew that Jungkook didn't like to talk about things like that, but he still tried. If they always let him with his thoughts, who knows how overwhelmed he could get, just like what happened right now?

"It's okay hyung, I'll get over it, thank you for asking though." Jungkook tried to shake himself awake. A thought crossed his mind and he started sweating at the idea. What if whatever he tried, she'd still end up killing herself? Could it be possible that the result might never be altered? Could he force someone to stay alive when they didn't want to? Maybe he couldn't prevent her death, after all, maybe he didn't have any escape. How could he have believed that he was enough to save a life?

"Whatever's wrong, don't let it eat you, hm? You've been pretty tense the last few days. You know you can share your concerns with any of us if they are too much, or do something to deal with them." Seokjin closed the door while Jungkook snorted quietly. Deal with them, he said. Easier said than done, Jungkook had been trying to deal with it for quite a while and he had not been very successful up until then...

However, one detail made Jungkook click his tongue, confused. Tilting his head, he wondered: did Seokjin just say that he had been looking tense the last few days? Jungkook didn't remember feeling tense, actually, hadn't he been pretty excited to go on that trip with Jimin? Would it be because ...

Could it be...?

Something actually made sense in Jungkook's mind. He didn't understand why timelines could have differences, but it was actually because he never started the day the same way, if the very beginning of a timeline had already differences from the previous one, it was only logical that some differences during the day were to be found. In this timeline, Jungkook was always dreaming of the other ones. Hence, in the phone call with Seokjin some timelines ago, the latter told him that he went to sleep early. That was because Jungkook had been sleeping and dreaming from the ongoing timeline. However, now, after a few timelines, it meant that he must have been dreaming from the timelines 4 nights straight since it was his fifth attempt, even though from his point of view, he never did. It made sense for Seokjin to think that he had been tense the last few days since he had been sleeping through the timelines. But wouldn't that also mean that-

"Oh shit-" if he was sleeping the entire time, did this mean that it was actually possible that he woke up the 30th and not the 29th? Wouldn't it be possible that he dreamed of the fourth timeline and that he actually broke the loop, waking up from the 29th?

Phone.

Where the fuck was his phone when he needed it, he needed to check the date right now.

"Seokjin-hyung! Can you tell me the date, please?" Jungkook yelled, hoping that his beloved hyung would tell him that it was the 30th-

"The 29th of April, why?" Seokjin yelled back. Jungkook froze. He really came back. No other possibilities now, (Y/N) really killed herself again. But... Why?

"Jungkook?" Seokjin knocked at his door, worried again.

"Ah it's okay, I was feeling disoriented, I didn't know if it was today that we were leaving with Jimin-hyung," Jungkook mumbled, not wanting to face anyone right now after his sudden disappointment.

"Ah, I see, we'll get ready though! You're going tomorrow! I'm sure this will clear your head!" He could imagine Seokjin smiling from behind the door, trying to lift Jungkook's mood up again. He couldn't feel more grateful to Seokjin, yet he didn't really have the time to dwell on it. He had to find a backup plan.

Jungkook actually never imagined that he would be living another timeline after meeting (Y/N). He thought that he would find the right words and at least prevent her from acting on whatever had been on her mind. And he was so sure of it last night! Well, technically not last night, but the result was the same. He had been so sure that she would be fine, or at least well enough not to end it all... And yet she did.

She did, and it confused him.

What could he do now? If he called, he wouldn't have an answer, or would he? She didn't answer in the other timelines, and even though he still remembered her number, why would she suddenly answer now? Would anything be different?

He sighed, unmotivated.

Should he wait for her at the hospital-

Wait, did (Y/N)'s sister already take her plane? The flight was around 11 am if he remembered well. Checking his phone, Jungkook noticed that it was around 9 am. Would that still be possible for him to somehow intercept her before she went on the plane? It would make her and her class arrives late in Korea but maybe it was possible.

Yet, problem. He didn't have (Y/N)'s sister's number. Should he try to contact (Y/N), telling her to tell her sister not to take her flight? This seemed completely stupid to do. How would (Y/N) react to hearing Jeon Jungkook, the 'friend' that left her years ago, telling her that she should call her sister to not take her flight otherwise she'll die? He was back to square one on their relationship, he needed to consider how his words might be perceived.

She probably wouldn't even listen to him, he would be surprised if she did. He sighed, frustrated with the situation. Why did everything have to be that complicated? He just wanted to save his friend, was that so wrong? Why did it look like everything and everyone were teaming up to prevent him from succeeding?

Was there a way to save both sisters?

Oh.

Oh, maybe he had an idea. Taking his phone, he looked at his screen, before pressing down the buttons.

He knew that what he was doing wasn't really good, but at least it would block the whole airport. He didn't really have another choice and his mind had chosen to focus on the only solution that came to him.

Did Jeon Jungkook just call the emergency number of the airport in Paris saying that he saw someone with a gun at the boarding Gate B1?

...

Yes... Yes, he did.

Did the airport stop the boarding just in order to be sure that it wasn't a prank?

...

Yes... they did... Jungkook had been checking the airport website since he called and the warning information got updated a few minutes ago.

Was (Y/N)'s sister safe? That was something that he couldn't be sure about and it stressed him so fucking much. Jungkook had tried to find out when her plane was supposed to take off, looking at all departure times for Seoul from Paris. There was only one plane that had already left today, really early in the morning so, with a little bit of luck, which he used to have even if he seemed to have run out of it lately, a school-organized trip would not book tickets for a flight at 4 am, right?

Or at least, he really hoped so because, as much as he didn't want to think of it, the probability that she was in that plane wasn't near to 0 and it didn't comfort him. His idea was probably his last chance, he didn't know what he could do if it didn't work. If (Y/N)'s sister had already left, it would mean that the same scenario would unfold he couldn't bear it. What would happen if-

No, he shouldn't think that way. He needed to find a way to know if (Y/N)'s sister had already boarded and had already left. That was his main priority.

Musing over the problem, Jungkook thought of something. It might not work, but it was better to try than to stay here without a clue of what was happening. He suddenly got up, climbed down the stairs before grabbing Jimin's phone, under his sleepy and confused eyes.

"Jungkook what are you suddenly doing? Why do you need my phone?" Jimin's morning voice was met with Jungkook's chuckle, even though he did not really have the time for that. It felt good to be in such a normal situation after everything that happened to him, Jungkook found himself wishing for everything to stop once again, but he wouldn't stop trying to save his best friend. He wouldn't leave her again, not when he promised that he wouldn't.

"Don't worry hyung! I'll give it back in a minute!" Jungkook ran back into his room, opened the Kakaotalk app, and entered (Y/N)'s number while he changed Jimin's setting, changing his profile name and picture to make it unknown, and texted (Y/N).

To be fair, Jungkook knew that even if he had used his own phone to message her instead, there was no way for (Y/N) to find out that it was Jungkook messaging but he still felt paranoid enough to use someone else's phone, just in case. It was ridiculous though, as he had changed his number quite a few times, and there was no rational way for (Y/N) to find out that it was Jungkook's number. But he couldn't help it, freaking out over the fact that maybe, just maybe, she would somehow find out that it was him.

Y/N, it's me. My phone died I'm sorry, I hope that I didn't scare you! I'm using the phone of a friend of mine!

Was Jungkook's last idea to message (Y/N) pretending to be her sister?

Maybe.

Jungkook seriously prayed that (Y/N) wouldn't find it sketchy. There could be a lot of hints for her to find out that it wasn't her sister messaging, for example, what if they were already messaging? Or what if they were calling? His idea would then be useless, he knew that (Y/N) would not tell anyone anything about her sister without a good reason, and even though Jungkook's reason was more than just good, he couldn't really explain everything without sounding crazy. He, himself, wouldn't believe anyone with the same story.

He received a reply in less than a few seconds, it made him smile deeply. Jungkook should have known that her answer would be quick; she treasured her little sister like a diamond, and whether or not his text seemed weird, she probably brushed it off to make sure that her sister was okay.

Yah! You shouldn't text when you're on the plane! It could be dangerous! Only a few hours before you land anyway!! I can't wait to see you again!

Jungkook's smile disappeared quickly.

Fuc*

Her plane had already left.

______________________________________________________

Jungkook had now only one thing left to do: go to the hospital where he knew he'd find (Y/N). What he didn't know, though, was the kind of reaction he would be faced with once she would understand that her sister was no longer here, and it frightened him.

Jungkook sighed heavily. The thought never fully registered in his brain up until now, but the sudden realization made him sick.

Kids were about to die in a plane. It almost never happens, why did it have to be a plane full of children? They still had their lives ahead of them, how fair could that be?

He tried to dismiss the thought, he had to find (Y/N), there was no way to save them, he should focus on who would be left behind ... But still. It felt sickening, knowing that he couldn't do anything. Children were about to die and nothing could be done to change that.

Jungkook swallowed his tears, praying for some to survive. Heading to the hospital wouldn't be that hard, finding (Y/N) would probably be another question, but the state in which he might find her was a complete blurry point. He couldn't do much more than try to be here for her if she allowed him to.

Yet, one question plagued his mind. How was he going to explain that he already knew about the crash? Should he play dumb, tell her that he was here for a simple check-up and didn't know the situation she was in? Maybe. That would actually be his safest choice, because, telling her the truth wouldn't be a good idea. She was going to either think he was crazy or beat the shit out of him for coming to her only because he thought that she needed help. Her pride would probably not let him through and she'd be less than welcoming in that situation. In other possible scenarios, he could also say that he heard of it, but how? If he remembered correctly, the media related the information only the next day, it would sound fishy anyway and she'd end up feeling that he was lying. Dead end again. As much as he wanted to come clean and tell her everything, the safest solution was to tell her that he was here for himself.

Yeah, he would do that.

It was for the best anyway. A little white lie hoping that it wouldn't cause more damage.

______________________________________________________

Every single person, be it a medical staff or a regular patient, had at least glanced in his direction. He knew he looked fishy in the lobby of the hospital, sitting alone, phone in hand, covered from head to toe in order to stay unknown. He knew, but did he really have another choice?

Jungkook could clearly remember how it went for him in the latest timeline where he got recognized by fans, and it didn't really end well for him, hence why he took some precautions this time. Avoiding any more problematic situations than the ones he already had had to deal with could be a good idea.

Good job Jungkook.

He didn't need a new problem to deal with right now, he was trying to stay focused on (Y/N) and that was already a big deal. His life was eventful enough and his mind was crowded with enough dark thoughts. It had to stop. For his own sanity. Who knew that it would be so hard to keep going mentally speaking? Ignoring the fact that he knew that children were already dead, ignoring the fact that families would be devastated, it was manageable as long as he didn't have to face the actual disaster that those losses left behind. He would, for the second time, have to be in front of the result of it all again; the hopeless features leaving room for despair in someone's eyes as they understand that they lost a loved one. Jungkook sighed again. He had to clear his mind, he couldn't think of it. He had to stay focused, to keep going despite everything. He had to be there for (Y/N).

Jungkook checked the time again. If he had calculated well, she shouldn't be too far from the hospital anymore, it would only be a matter of minutes before her arrival and it made him extremely nervous. He had prepared a whole speech and imagined a whole situation to unfold but let's be honest, when did things go the way he expected them to go with (Y/N)? Yeah let's not kid ourselves, Jungkook perfectly knew that his speech would probably go to waste but at least, he felt somewhat prepared.

Somewhat was the key word though.

Because he suddenly didn't feel prepared at all anymore when he recognized her, barging into the hospital, frantically calling her sister's name. Jungkook felt his heartbreak when he saw her. He had known that this moment wouldn't be easy to watch but he didn't think that he would face such heartbreaking features.

He couldn't really focus on the fact that she still was as beautiful as he remembered her to be, if not more as her baby cheeks had disappeared. She had grown into a gorgeous woman. He had already noticed on the bridge, yet her yells and panicked state had not left much room for Jungkook to think about it. However, he was suddenly brought back to reality as her voice pierced through the lobby.

She looked desperate.

Jungkook's voice got stuck in his throat as he heard the answers of the doctors. He watched them gulping before carefully taking her hands into theirs, telling her that her sister had died in the crash and that when her body had been found, there had been no life to save anymore. They couldn't have done anything, she had already passed away when they found her.

(Y/N) got even paler than she had already been when she barged into the hospital. Jungkook watched her features fall as her world crashed down. She stuttered, pleading for them to stop joking, quietly telling them that it wasn't funny. It couldn't be true, could it? Her sister told her that they would quickly see each other. They had so much to speak about, she told her that she took many pictures for them to print together. That couldn't be true, they had so much to do together.

Together.

"Some of her belongings didn't burn in the plane, if you'd like, you could be able to have it bac-"

"Where is my sister." Her broken voice got Jungkook to walk toward her. He couldn't stand this scene anymore, he couldn't watch her get hurt like that without doing anything. God, he preferred the timeline where she screamed at him so much more than this one. Seeing her break down like that felt like watching her mentally die in front of him, and he couldn't stand it.

"We just told you that-"

"I'm not looking for her belongings, what don't you understand? I want my sister back." Her voice got louder at the end and the doctors winced at her tone.

"Miss, we understand that such a loss is hard to go through, we can give you numbers of good psychologists if you'd like to-"

"I don't need a psychologist, I want my sister, quit playing and tell me her room. She survived, she told me she was coming back, she tol-"

"Miss you have to stop. It's hard but you have to accept i-"

"I HAVE NOTHING TO ACCEPT!" Jungkook stopped moving as he noticed her tears falling down.

"It can't be true. It has to be a nightmare." She wasn't listening to anyone anymore, the doctors were trying to calm her down but in vain. She was having a panic attack and Jungkook could spot it from kilometers away. Since when did (Y/N) have panic attacks? It didn't match with the remaining memories of her from their childhood, so what happened? Maybe it was her first, triggered by her sister's death? He didn't really have time to dwell on that, but he made a note to ask her if he ever found the moment to do it. However, at that right moment, Jungkook rushed to her side, clearly knowing that it could end up being the worst idea that he ever had from the very beginning, but he couldn't watch her suffer anymore, he had to make it stop. He tried to catch her as he saw her knees crumbling under her weight, giving up as her mind stopped listening to the world.

"Hey, hey, hey (Y/N), (Y/N) look at me, please breathe, in and out, please take a deep breath with me," he took her hand, and put it on his chest trying to make her come back to reality, she had to breath. Maybe feeling him breathing would make her try to match his rhythm, "try to follow the rhythm (Y/N) come on, you can do it, breath with me." Her first breaths were irregular and swallowed hard, almost choking in the process but Jungkook rubbed encouraging circles on her back, telling her that she was doing well and that she just had to continue.

"Come on (Y/N), in and out, there you go, it's better already, again, in and out. Good, you're doing it again, look at me, can you see or hear me?" He realized that she must have lost track of where she had been as her eyes met his. After all, where could she be to be meeting with Jeon Jungkook so suddenly? What happened between her last memories and the moment when Jeon Jungkook appeared in front of her?

"J-Jun-Jungkook?" Her stutter almost broke him but he had to hang on for her, he had to.

"We'll talk about us and what I'm doing here later, please focus on breathing (Y/N), focus, it's okay. I've got you, doctors are here if you want me to disappear afterward. I'll follow your wish but for now, breathe please." He tried to soothe her down, to melt her worries away as best as he could. He knew he really couldn't really do much more. She lost her sister, how pretentious of him would it be to think that he could help her overcome the loss of her beloved and treasured sister? He wasn't stupid, he knew that he wouldn't be able to take all the pain away, however, he would try his damn best because he would never leave her like that. He wanted her to be okay, at least. He didn't know if she would ever be completely ok again after everything, but she had to calm down, to be conscious enough to take care of herself before sending him away.

"W-What are you doing here," she whispered against his neck as he held her close.

"You're going to think that I'm crazy if I tell you." Shit, what did he just say? Where did his cover go? Wasn't he supposed to find something possible? Not explain the whole truth?

"It can't be worse t-than this," he heard her broken chuckle and he wanted to cry for her. Did she truly have to feel that pain?

"Breath (Y/N), nothing is fine, I know, but you have to breathe at least, I'll tell you everything when you'll feel better ok?" He tried to keep her close to him, feeling her breathing getting more regular while she nodded against his chest.

As wrong as it was, it felt right. Her being this close to him, hands going through her hair and rubbing comforting patterns on her back, he had wanted this years ago already. He had wished for a future with (Y/N), his best friend, his first love, his everything.

She had been his anchor, his rock, his motivation. She had been there to let him cry, to rant with him about people that bothered them, to laugh with him. She had been there for everything. Until he threw this future away. He could have tried harder, screw that, he should have tried harder. How could he so easily say that she had been his everything while he had thrown every chance he had to stay by her side in an instant? He should have made different choices, he knew that already. That had never been a question. Deep down, he had always known that what he had done was despicable, he had protected himself from someone he loved and cherished, hurting her and disregarding her feelings in the process. How could he even say that she was his first love when he hurt her so easily?

Jungkook remembered how fascinated he was by her. She had everything; she was breathtaking, and talented in everything she tried, even though it wasn't always perfect, she always found positivity in everything she ended up trying. Her bright smile had maybe been what made him fall head over heels for her. He wished he could make her smile this hard again.

Just him.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked quietly, disregarding any doctor's stare. His priority was (Y/N) and nobody else.

"I guess." She whispered back, still trying to catch her breath, slowly pushing him away while she sat and faced him. Her bloodshot eyes screamed confusion, and yet, they also seemed to be empty of life. Jungkook smiled sadly, trying to remove the trail of her dried tears, thumbs slowly rubbing on her warm cheeks.

"What are y-you doing here Jungkook?" She asked again almost in a trance.

"I'll tell you, I promise, let's get you on your feet first," he stood up, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her hand in his, lifting her up gently.

She met the concerned eyes of the doctors and Jungkook could feel how tense she became once again. And as narcissistic as it seemed to be, he wished he could just take all the pain away.

"Would you please follow us miss (L/N)?"

______________________________________________________

Jungkook had been told to wait for her outside of the examination room and as much as it didn't sit well with him, he did nothing but comply. That's how he found himself on a white chair, waiting for her outside of the doctor's office for the past 30 minutes.

He hid his face in his hand while he tried to stay calm.

This definitely was the worst timeline. Emotionally speaking, he was drained. He had trouble keeping his mind silent and he couldn't help but feel overly protective of (Y/N), afraid that anything would give her a panic attack again. Did she have one during each timeline? Alone? How could he have let this happen? The past timelines had been hard on him already and his brain was at the very edge of a breakdown. His sanity was on a thin line and Jungkook was afraid he might become the one to need help if he couldn't breathe more easily. He didn't allow his feelings to show up until now because (Y/N) needed him, and even if it was with reluctance, she had accepted his help previously. He couldn't let her down.

But he was struggling.

He became kind of acquainted with death during the past few days. Everything seemed to evolve around it and he felt himself growing anxious because of it. What would happen now? What could he do to prevent anything from happening?

And as his breath was beginning to feel heavy, Jungkook heard his ringtone set for the bangtan members. He saw Jin's name appearing on the screen, noticing that in the last timeline where Jin called, the call had been way later. It surprised him but comforted him in a way that his hyung was almost finding the right timing to call him, despite everything.

"Hey, Jin-hyung. How are you?" Jungkook's voice was strong, but also vulnerable, it made him feel so small and for a second he wondered if it wouldn't have been better not to answer.

"So first you disappear and when I call, you sound like you're about to break into pieces. Hello to you too damn, where are you? Should I come to pick you up? What's wrong Jungkook?" The comforting voice of Seokjin made him smile despite the light scolding. He knew Seokjin meant well and the concern he could hear in his voice made him feel slightly better. He had to stop lying for his sanity in this timeline. He had already given away his cover to (Y/N), he couldn't just tell her that it was a regular meet-up just after telling her she would think that he was crazy. Maybe he just needed to tell her the truth. Maybe it would help for once.

"Ah, Jin-hyung don't worry too much, I'm at the hospital right now-"

"Hospital? Jeon Jungkook what did you do, are you okay? You didn't break anything, did you? Oh my goodness, is that what they meant when they said I had to watch over the maknae line, y'all keep on getting into troubles!" Alright, maybe telling the truth without context wasn't the best idea that he got.

"No, it's not for me don't worry," he laughed quietly, almost embarrassed, "the sister old friend of mine died in a plane. I'm trying to hang on for her, but it's difficult for me, it's hard to swallow, after all, I knew them since I was a kid." Jungkook spoke softly, he was remaining evasive but still not lying. He felt relaxed and at ease with Seokjin. He should have known again. The timeline that had been the less emotionally draining had been the one when he told the boys everything. Yes, he ended up getting caught. But emotionally, he had felt supported and comforted. He had felt protected and safely surrounded.

They truly always brought out the best in him.

"Ah Jungkook, I'm so sorry for your friend's loss. It's not an idol, is it? We would have heard about it already." Jin's soothing tone made him close his eyes.

"Yeah, she's not an idol, but she could have been hyung. (Y/N) is a mesmerizing person, I'm sure you guys would love her."

"You speak so highly of her," Seokjin laughed, "how come we never heard of her before? You said she was an old friend, either she's old or it's been a while since you've known her." Jungkook hummed hearing Seokjin's question.

"She's my childhood best friend. I made the wrong choices when I left her. I thought that leaving without saying anything would be for the best, that it would hurt less with time, but the truth is, it never did. I only made selfish choices, not accepting that I wouldn't be her priority, I feared that I would end up being just a friend of her in Seoul, I was afraid that I wouldn't have time for her. Her not being my first priority seemed wrong for me at that time. I projected it on her, I think. Making myself believe that I'd become a nobody for her when in reality, I was afraid that I would be the one to do that." Jungkook came to terms with this. He noticed that his reasons for leaving quite changed since the day he told Jimin about it. He began to understand a bit better what he couldn't back then, or more precisely what he had unconsciously ignored. His motive wasn't better, neither was it that different actually, but he had cowardly hid the truth, not believing that he, himself, did that.

"I loved her a lot hyung. I think I still do, even if she probably hates my guts," Jungkook chuckled a bit, bittersweet memories wrapping up and fogging his mind.

"She probably doesn't hate you Jungkook. You should try to talk to her before putting feelings that she perhaps doesn't hold. Don't try to make a story yourself, maybe you acted wrong back then, but you became a better person. You have to act now as your better self to see what can happen from now on. If you continue to dig a grave for yourself, she probably won't try to lift you up. You have to show her that you don't want to give her up again. Maybe it will mean something to her." Jungkook blinked a few times, not expecting such a wise reply from his eldest member.

"Who knew you were that deep hyung." Jungkook chuckled as he heard Seokjin's yells through the phone. Yet as he opened his eyes again, he noticed that someone had sat next to him.

And the someone was nobody else than (Y/N).

How could Jungkook have missed the door opening and (Y/N) sitting next to him?

"H-hyung I'll call you back later, she's done with the doctor." He stuttered, face reddening as his eyes met hers.

"Try to bring her home when you can Jungkook! I want to see the lady who can make Jeon Jungkook stutter," Jungkook swore under his breath before canceling the call quickly. What could he say that would make the situation less awkward?

"I'm sorry about him, he often gets excited about n-nothing" God saves him, even he wouldn't believe one word of his pathetic attempt to save himself.

She didn't answer though, leaving him time to calm down and his worried glance trailed back to her face when he noticed a lone tear rolling down her cheek.

"My sister died," she said, voice almost breaking as the words left her mouth, too real for her liking.

"I'm so sorry for your loss (Y/N)." He took her hand in his hesitantly. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. "Can I ask you what happened?"

"I have a feeling that you already know exactly what happened." She eyed him suspiciously as he looked somewhere else, guiltily. "Am I wrong?"

"She died in a plane crash coming back from a school trip from Paris?" He replied, trying to hide his remorse.

"Can I ask you how you know that?" Her voice was empty of accusations. He was expecting her to be mad at him, thinking that he was a stalker or even worse, but he found none of those emotions in her voice.

"Will you believe me if I tell you?" He softly answered, rubbing his thumb on her hand.

"Well, I can't promise anything if you don't tell me, anyway." Jungkook's eyes met (Y/N)'s ones, trying to figure out if she meant it.

"5 days ago, I've been told that you killed yourself." Her previously empty eyes suddenly showed life, growing surprised as her eyebrows furrowed. " I went to Busan with one of my band members since we had a short vacation. I wanted to show him my childhood home, taking advantage of the break. I went to the restaurant we always went to when we were children but Halmeonie threw both of us out, yelling at me, asking me how I could come back after what happened. It was the 30th of April."

"But we are the 29th, and I'm definitely not the dead one..." She asked, confused.

"(Y/N), as much as it seems to be completely made up, I've been stuck in a loop for 5 days. Each time I wake up, we are back to the 29th of April, today. Each time I wake up, it's because I haven't been able to save you, because you died." His eyes focused on her hand which was suddenly tightly gripping his. "I know it sounds completely stupid, probably impossible, I thought it was too. But when I was in front of your ... In front of your g-grave, a weird thing told me that I could go back in time to change my mistakes but that I couldn't fail because I wouldn't leave the loop if I didn't find you and prevent you from ... " He couldn't finish his sentence. His voice got stuck again. He tried to gulp and to continue but his voice broke ever so slightly. "And please don't believe that I think that you're weak, or anything. I do know that you're one of the strongest people that I know and I'd be damned to think otherwise. But when I was met with this cruel reality where you weren't breathing anymore, I couldn't take it. I would have done anything to bring you back, hence why we're here today. And I'm sorry if it sounds selfish, maybe you would have suffered less if I just let things happen, maybe I'm horrible to make you live through this pain, but I couldn't bear to not do anything, knowing that I maybe could do something to prevent this... Terrible outcome to unfold. It was me who texted you this morning from the "friend's phone". I called the airport in Paris, I told them that I saw someone with a gun in the boarding and they stopped the boarding of the planes. I thought that maybe I could save your sister too. But her plane had already left, I couldn't know if she had taken the plane at 4 am or the one that got canceled because of me. So I texted you and when I read that she was supposed to be in Korea in a few hours, I knew that I lost. I couldn't save your sister. I'm so sorry (Y/N), if the loop had begun a few hours before, I would have been able to stop her plane but I couldn't. I couldn't because I always woke up at the same time and it was already too late, I couldn't do anything. And I feel so shitty because not only your sister but her whole class died and fuck that shit. Those kinds of crashes almost never happen but it had to be a plane full of children! Full of teenagers! I hate myself so much for knowing that I could have done something but in the end, I couldn't! I was so fucking useless and I hate it!" He had trouble breathing again, and he couldn't find it in himself to lift his gaze. He couldn't meet her eyes when he had failed miserably. "And when I saw you in the lobby, having a panic attack, I thought since when does (Y/N) have panic attacks? Jungkook how would you know? You left her years ago because your selfish ass couldn't handle the distance. I feel miserable (Y/N), I want to help you, and I'll understand if you tell me to fuck off, I abandoned you. Your sister was right from the beginning. I ended up hurting you but I couldn't stay and be the best friend I promised I would be. I'm so sorry if right now you'd prefer not living this with me, or if you'd prefer never seeing my face again, I'd understand. I deserve it. I just-" he stopped talking when he felt her arm around him, hugging him gently.

What the hell was happening?

"Thank you for trying to save her." She had whispered against him, leaving no room for anybody else to hear it but him. "It means a lot that you tried, thank you for undergoing all of that just for me." And as Jungkook noticed that she was crying, his tears began to flow and he couldn't stop. He whined almost like a child, but she held him close, just as he was holding her close as he felt her silent tears dropping against his neck.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N). I wish I c-could have done something," he hiccuped against her shoulder, seeking her warmth. Jungkook felt that she tried to answer but in vain, probably caught up in her own emotions. Out of all the possible scenarios that he had imagined, this one had never been one of them.

"I-I know that I'll never soothe your pain away, your sister was your whole world. But please stay a-alive, she wouldn't want you sad, she would like you to never forget her and continue to live. So please, e-even if I'm not part of your life, please, please live. Please find happiness again." He muttered, still shaken by his cry. His voice broke a little but he refused to let this silence him, he had a lot to say. "You deserve the world (Y/N). Please, don't g-give up."

"Just... Please. Live for your sister. She'd want nothing but for you to live on."

______________________________________________________

The cold wind was definitely harsh as they came out of the building, but Jungkook could feel himself breath again. His throat was burning and his cheeks were stained with the trail of his tears. Walking by his side, (Y/N) wasn't really doing any better. She looked paler than him, with arms wrapped around her as the wind made her shiver. People who were walking in front of them probably thought that they were miserable, perhaps they even looked like they just had a fight.

If only they knew.

The silence wasn't something that he was used to with (Y/N) but who could blame them? Such a situation was also a first for both of them, a lot to take in for (Y/N) and a lot to swallow for Jungkook. He felt way lighter than before but it didn't soothe his guilt away. He was almost waiting for the moment when (Y/N) would tell him to leave and to never show up again. And yet it had still not happened.

To be honest, Jungkook didn't know if it was comforting him or if it was even more stressful since it could happen at any moment. He couldn't meet her gaze; he didn't know if she was looking at him or looking at the ground, or ahead of them... He didn't want to know if he were to be honest.

"How... do you believe me? I don't mean that in any negative way, but I don't understand..." He asked, whispering quietly. Jungkook didn't know if he should be grateful that she trusted him enough to believe .... his impossible story, or just baffled by her trust. He wouldn't have believed her if she had told him such a story. Who would, after all?

"What do you mean?" she asked back, barely audible because of the wind.

"I mean... Don't take me wrong, I'm really glad that you believe me, but the whole thing is... It took me a while to believe it myself, it sounded completely impossible, and I must have sounded crazy with such a story to tell so... Why, after everything that I did to you? You didn't even ask any questions, instead you just... Thanked me?" Jungkook was confused. Relieved in a way, but highly confused. How could she believe him? He couldn't prove any of this; he had no tangible documents proving that whatever he was saying was the truth. So how could she believe his words so effortlessly?

"Would you really make up such a lie? Why would you even try to do that?" Their eyes met and Jungkook forgot how to breathe for a good second. It was true, he would have never lied about something related to her sister's death. He might have been an asshole to her, but never would he do that. She saw the recognition in his eyes and she tried to smile even if it didn't reach her eyes. "You're still you even after everything that happened Jungkook. There are a lot of things that I thought you would never do and yet you actually did them so, in a way, it should perhaps freak me out, but... Even if I don't think I can say that I know you and that you changed a lot... I know that despite everything, you wouldn't do that." She looked at him as if she knew that she was right. She wouldn't believe that he lied. However, he still winced when she mentioned the fact that he changed and that she probably didn't know him anymore. It hurt, but what was he expecting? It was already impressive enough that she believed him, so he couldn't really complain about that. He was thankful enough for her to believe him. "Why? Should I be concerned? Are you actually lying?" He suddenly panicked as he heard those words leaving her mouth.

"N-no!" Maybe he was too loud and a bit too strong in his denial because everyone had turned around to see who shouted in public. "I... I would never." He quietly ended, trying to ignore the stares and make himself small, hoping that he could disappear if he tried hard enough.

"See? We might have become strangers, but I still know that about you." Strangers. Was it really everything that was left of them? They were everything but strangers, weren't they?

"Are we strangers, though?" He couldn't help himself, he had to ask her. And even if he had wanted to keep that for himself, the words had already escaped him. He had already blurred it out.

"I believe that it's safe to consider us strangers than anything else, really." Her smile dropped after his question. Yes, she believed him, but it didn't erase what he did. "And, not to be mean or anything but... I have a lot going on in case you didn't notice, and it's kind of more important to me than what is left of our relationship." It hurt to hear it from her. It hurt and Jungkook wasn't sure that he would be able to keep his tears at bay for a long time, but he had to try, because it was only the truth. What he did and what happened was on him, but she had other things to think about right now. Could he blame her for saying so? After all, his main goal was not to be forgiven but to help her through what was happening, even if it broke him to hear those words.

"I know. I'm not here to be forgiven. I... I don't believe that I deserve your forgiveness, to be honest. I just... couldn't let it happen. I-If you need me, which I doubt but still, I'm here. Be it financially or anything, please I'd do anything, not for forgiveness but for you. I don't want you to be alone in that situation." His words should have been appreciated but they did nothing but anger her. Who did he think he was to just assume that she was alone? She didn't need him, she had lived just fine without him for the past few years. Why would she suddenly be alone? Just because he left? Did he think so highly of himself? She could have a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or be a mother... It's not like he would know what she did and what happened to her anyway. Did he think that while he left, he took everything from her? Was his ego that big now that he was an idol?

"Who told you I was alone? I have someone in my life." Her cold tone made him stop in his tracks.

She what now?

"I don't mean to annoy you but... Where is that person then? Why did you give up in my first timeline if you have many people?" He stopped for a few seconds before frowning, "actually no. You're right, you have a lot of people by your side. Halmeonie was crying so much (Y/N), I don't understand what made you believe that you could leave everything behind so easily. What were you even thinking?" He couldn't understand. Why would she leave when people loved her? His heart broke a little bit more when she said that she had someone, but it wasn't the actual subject. If it was true, then why didn't she go home crying to them? If she loved that person so dearly, why would she commit suicide? It pained Jungkook to even imagine her in someone else's arms but damn! If she truly had someone why did she do something like that?

"How dare you!" Jungkook jumped a bit, not expecting her to suddenly shout at him. "How dare you after what you did? Do you have any idea of what I went through, of who I became, of what I did to be here? You don't, you don't fucking know anything, so you stay in your lane and you shut the fuck up, you're no one to give me such a speech! 'How could you leave everything behind?' Doesn't it sound like something you'd do? You don't have any idea of who I am, if I have indeed people around me or not, I could be a mother, you wouldn't even know. It's not like you cared once you left, you don't understand what the fuck is happening to me, do you? You're asking me if I need money? Do you really fucking think that money can replace my precious sister? Do you have any idea of what you are saying? Fuck you, Jeon! You're mixing everything together and it's seriously getting on my nerves, like... Fuck, if you just came to say that to me, leave! I continued living after you left! My whole world was not crushed, I got back on my feet and fought for myself! What is happening to me right now is my world being crushed! You have no fucking idea of what I'm going through right now!" And even if Jungkook wanted to retaliate directly, something caught his attention first. They were in front of the dreaded place; exactly where he left (Y/N) in the previous timeline. God, he fucked up again, not only regarding her but also looking at where they were heading. He didn't even notice that they had taken that direction. But hell, why did he never have good words with her? It looked like he only messed up when he couldn't afford it.

"Please (Y/N), we both know that's not what I meant-"

"No I don't! Enlighten me!" She was screaming at him and as much as he hated the fact that it was making people curious about what was happening, he had other priorities. First, get (Y/N) somewhere else, second, calm her down (if he could).

"Yes, I know nothing, you're right! I'm sorry if I sounded like I knew everything about you, I'm an asshole that never finds the good words, but I promise that I didn't mean it that way. Please, let's just get out of here, we need to-" as he tried to take her hand so that they could leave, she dodged his hand, looking at him clearly angry at him.

"Who the hell do you think you are Jeon?"

"It's the bridge where it happened (Y/N) please, just fucking please, scream at me if you want, but can we just leave this place?" He screamed right back at her, trying to get her attention and it seemed to have worked since she was left silent. However she looked pretty pale and her breath was uneven, much like his. They had to go somewhere else, anywhere really, just far away from that damn bridge.

"Please. I can't get the memories out of my head. I- Can we go somewhere else, please..." He was desperate, his eyes falling on the ground as he pleaded with her. She surprisingly quietly nodded and didn't say much when his pinky linked with hers, just to make sure that she was following. He noticed the similarities between this timeline and the previous one. They had left each other around the same time. This timeline, however, Jungkook would remain with her and make sure nothing happened to her. Weirdly enough though, Jungkook didn't seem to have the situation in his hands. It seemed like whatever he would do, he'd find (Y/N) near that bridge at that time and as much as it didn't set well with him, he had no choice but to obey whatever that was trying to get them here. Yet, he wouldn't let it happen. No, he wouldn't.

"S-slow down, Jungkook." He felt like an imbecile, he hadn't even checked if she was alright. He was so focused on himself that he didn't even check on her. Nevertheless, it had obviously shaken her up to know that it was where she had apparently given up. He wasn't the only one concerned in this story. He couldn't always think of himself.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, intertwining their fingers, trying to be as gentle as he could. He tried to soothingly rub circles on her hand and he got distracted from his crowded mind for a bit. He noticed the red light in front of them, both stopping as they waited for it to turn green again. Jungkook couldn't meet her eyes, he felt so many feelings twirling inside of himself. Relief, uneasiness, fear, sadness, anger, shame, hatred. He couldn't distinguish everything but it felt overwhelming to feel so many different emotions raging inside his head. He just wanted to burst into tears and let go.

Yet, it didn't take him more than a second to hear (Y/N)'s distressed yell as he felt their hands being separated by someone who just walked in between them, pushing (Y/N) on the pedestrian crossing while a car was quickly coming in their way.

"(Y/N)!" Jungkook panicked but he reacted fast, rushing near her, taking her hand, and harshly pulling her to him, both of them terrified. Jungkook hit his head against the ground as they landed together on the sidewalk while the car continued without even slowing down, only honking a few times but leaving as quickly as it came. He couldn't see nor had the time to try to save the person that had bumped into (Y/N) even though it was their fault if the whole situation had happened, he could only pray for them to be alright. Jungkook had seen more death than he could handle. People shouted in horror seeing what just happened, gathering slowly, trying to help them back to their feet.

"Where is the other person?" Jungkook tried to ask someone that was helping him up, yet the pain made him dizzy.

"Who are you talking about, young man? The shock must have been quite terrible for you to see someone else, you definitely should make a check-up at the hospital." One woman answered and Jungkook's eyes searched for (Y/N)'s silently asking if she had seen it too. And as she slowly nodded to him, he knew that he wasn't the only who saw it. "And you, young lady, what were you thinking by throwing yourself on the road like that? Do you want to die this young?" The old woman was scolding them harshly while Jungkook suddenly felt very cold. He winced as he heard the words of the woman. It really wasn't the best moment. Could that kind of speech be avoided?

However, when colors began to be drained from the landscape and the voice of the old woman sounded like she was getting further and further away until Jungkook couldn't hear it anymore, he began to regret his intern prayers for it to stop.

Because everything stopped.

The black and white surroundings left everything frozen, untouchable, and cold. The wind was no longer disturbing Jungkook who checked on (Y/N), only to see that she had frozen just like everything else while looking at him. It didn't take Jungkook a lot of time to understand what was happening.

"Come on Jungkook, let it happen once more." He heard the familiar voice echoing around him without being able to find its source.

"Where are you? What do you even mean? You told me to save 'you', that's what I'm doing!" Jungkook's voice was loud and clear despite the stillness of the frozen universe. Something made its way toward Jungkook. It slowly got a form, a shape, and some graceful features; it kept on changing until he could easily recognize (Y/N). He frowned, trying to keep telling himself that she wasn't real. This thing only had her appearance, that couldn't be (Y/N). He watched it coming close to the actual (Y/N), almost brushing its finger on her cheek.

"I don't want you to leave." The fake (Y/N) replied.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Isn't it funny to try and save me? Again and again?" Jungkook snorted.

"No. No, it's not." The thing almost looked annoyed at his answer.

"I can't let you go so easily."

"Why not?"

"You're going to forget about me again if I let you save me," it spoke gently, almost as if on the verge of tears. Jungkook shook this idea away. He needed to stop assimilating this ghost, or whatever it was, to (Y/N).

"I won't. And stop pretending that you're her when you're not." He tried to appear strong, but he felt his whole soul giving up. How could he go against someone- or even something that he couldn't fight?

"But I am!" '(Y/N)' suddenly got angry, her soft features were no longer visible, and Jungkook could see the thing slowly beginning to lose (Y/N)'s appearance.

"No, you aren't. Let me save (Y/N). Were you the one that pushed her on the road? Why would you do that?"

"I also was what killed me in the previous timeline, and every other one! It was easy, really, to push me on the road. Nothing easier, I even thought for some seconds that it was for the best." Jungkook paled. So that had been the reason why the previous timeline had not worked. Because of this accident. Had he not been there in that timeline, the car would have hit her and she would have died. Once again.

Jungkoo gritted his teeth as anger overwhelmed him. Why?

"Why the hell would you do that!?" He suddenly screamed, taking himself by surprise.

"I told you already, you're going to forget about her again." The thing seemed to calm down while (Y/N)'s features returned to its face. Jungkook noticed the change in its way of referring to (Y/N) but couldn't understand why.

"I won't, why would you believe that?" His voice had turned cold, just like the landscape. The thing shrugged, almost bored.

"Because I saw it happen already." Its eyes were watering, almost as if it could cry at any given moment. Jungkook stopped, unsure of what the thing meant. His mouth got dry for a few seconds.

"What?"

"You keep on saying that I'm not (Y/N) but you're wrong. I am. I'm the (Y/N) of the first timeline, Jungkook. The one that you didn't remember existed before you saw her grave, the one who saw all the timelines happen, and even the one that you don't remember, the one where you save me. And you know what you do in this timeline after you succeed in 'saving' me? You leave again, change your number, I won't hear your voice cracking again in your voicemail and me laughing in the background. You leave for Seoul, leaving me in Busan all alone, not trying to reach me despite everything you're saying. You tell me that I need to stay healthy and happy while you are gone, that you are going to miss me, but tell me, will you ever miss me? No, you won't. Because you won't come back, just like the first time." Jungkook was taken aback. No. That couldn't be true. He would never do the same mistake twice. He stood by that point.

"I wouldn't do that to you twice. What are you talking about? How could I forget about a whole time-"

"But you did! Told me we'd see each other soon, and never came back!" Jungkook frowned. Something was wrong in the story this '(Y/N)' was telling. Something was missing, but what?

"It was easy, wasn't it? To forget about me, you didn't have to wonder if I was indeed healthy or happy, you couldn't care any less." He wanted to answer something, desperately, yet her story didn't make any sense and it frustrated Jungkook to no end. Was this thing, that (Y/N), telling the truth? He believed that he would never do the same mistake twice. He would have never abandoned her again, not after everything that happened. No, that was not what he was hesitating about. His conflict was somewhere else. Could it be possible that each time (Y/N) died in a universe, something from her stayed alive? Just like ... This? Was it really possible? Could this truly be his (Y/N)? The very first one? And maybe even a manifestation of a vestige from all the (Y/N) who died? The one he knew since his childhood? The one who died on that horrible day? The one whose grave he saw? Jungkook liked to think of himself as a pragmatic and down-to-earth person, but with everything that he recently lived, he could believe in anything, to be honest. So, to say that he actually considered what the 'thing' said to be true wasn't really surprising. After all, he had been waking up, again and again, the same day, trying to save his 'best friend' from death. So could that be impossible and surprising if her 'soul' didn't vanish completely each time she died in a timeline? Yet, what she said wasn't logical. There were still missing pieces. He couldn't figure out what, but something didn't make sense. And it seemed too big to overview. What was so wrong that it hitched him so bad? Why did she say something that seemed so familiar?

"I want you healthy and happy while I'm gone."

"I'll try my best, but you've got to promise the same for you Jungkook!"

"I promise, I'll live the dream for both of us (Y/N)."

"Good. I'm glad that one of us is able to do that."

"I'll miss you..."

"I'll miss you too Kook, don't beat yourself over stupid things, and stay happy. Make me proud. Call me often."

That had been before he left... So why did she mention it now as if it happened twice? Maybe... Could that be related to the differences in all timelines? Could she be...

"You're mixing up." He suddenly said, thinking that maybe, he had finally gathered all the pieces of this never-ending jigsaw.

"What do you mean? Do you finally surrender? You can't find any tricks anymore?" She laughed sadly while he just looked at her, despair clear in his orbs.

"No, (Y/N). You're mixing up. That probably explains all the glitches I saw during timelines. You're mixing what happened before I first left because you never lived further than the day your sister died. If you're really saying the truth about your identity, then you died that day too, (Y/N). I never saved you if you're from the first timeline. You're confusing things, mixing them up, hence why details were not the same, like the weather. What you are talking about are things that I told you when I was younger, before leaving for Seoul. But I would never, do you hear me, never leave you again. I almost lost you once, I wouldn't even try to lose you again." He looked at her with an unwavering conviction. He had never been so sure of anything in his life.

"Is that your last resort? Because if you truly believe that I'm going to -"

"(Y/N), if it's really you, then we might be strangers. I might have hurt you, I might know nothing about how hurt you were and still are about my departure, but we both know something. And that something is that I never do the same mistake twice." And as he smiled as warmly as could, he could remember the discussion he once had with her when they were eating a cake he had baked alone for the first time. He had forgotten quite a lot of things but he had sworn that he wouldn't do the same mistake again and that it was something that he firmly stood by. It had been their inside joke. When he messed something up and succeeded at the second attempt, he used to look at her with his legendary smirk and tell her that he, indeed, never did the same mistake twice.

"I never do the same mistake a second time, especially not when it could change someone's future." He looked down at the real (Y/N), the one from his actual timeline, who was frozen on the sidewalk, internally swearing to protect her, that he would make everything right again.

"You're lying! I saw it-"

"Why do you want me so bad to be lying? What do you really see and remember? Are you sure you remember us?" He took a few steps in '(Y/N)'s direction while she looked ready to flee. "The plethora of timelines must have confused you, hence why everything kept on glitching, memories fade eventually, (Y/N). Especially ones that you didn't live by yourself. I understand now, why you told me to hurry up the first time we met in front of your grave. You said that once I would be in, I wouldn't get out that easily. Because you knew your memories would fade and that with some time, you would completely forget and I'd be trapped here forever. You knew yourself what would happen, that somehow, you'd keep on forgetting but it's okay! I'm here now, I will make new memories with you. Allow me to make new ones and especially happy ones. If we succeed, all those past memories will be brought back into one person, the living, and real you. We can do it together, you have to stop fighting me! Please. Let me save you this time. We can't keep on doing that, you'll keep on forgetting things and you won't ever- "

"It's wrong!!! You're wrong! You're-"

"We both know I'm right!" He took her hand, slowly brushing his thumb against the cold skin. He had not known if he would be able to touch her, but he seemed to be able to. Her cold skin almost made him shiver. The first (Y/N) drowned, cold, and alone in the Han River and Jungkook could only try to warm up her body and her soul.

"I-It's not true-" tears started to make their way on her cheeks and he brushed them away quickly.

"Allow me to make a better future for ourselves. It's going to be hard, maybe you won't want me to be part of it. But please, allow yourself a future. "

"No! I want you to chase me! To care about me, to keep c-crying because of me! Be hurt like I hurt!" She cried harder and he couldn't think of anything else but to hug her tightly.

"Give yourself a second chance (Y/N). I will always care about you, always cry for and because of you, I'll never let you go again if you let me in. Allow me to prove it to you. Come back to kill me if I fail, I don't care. Find your future again, live your present and write your future down as you walk. You have to pursue that future (Y/N). It's still yours."

"I don't want it! I gave it up! Don't you understand? I killed myself!"

"Then please hold my hand and let me support you for a while! Let me give you the will to continue! Let me help, for once. Please." He hid his tears as much as he could but it was hard to do so as he could hear her broken voice telling him how bad she didn't want to see any of this anymore. "Please, you have to let me in. We have to stop creating timelines, we need to bring them all back to one, the actual one-"

"I already died, Jungkook! It will never be 'me'! It's going to be this version of me that you see frozen, but it will never be 'me'! I already gave up on that future!" She cut him and Jungkook pressed himself closer to her, trying to let her feel his warmth. "It's never going to be 'me', the two of us are done, Jungkook. I died. It's too late. You'll find the (Y/N) of that timeline, not me." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, and Jungkook's heart broke at the realization.

"But, this version of you is also you, isn't it?" Silent tears fell against his shoulder and he tried his best to ignore them while he waited for her answer.

"I don't know, you never saved me." Kissing her forehead lightly, Jungkook looked at her despite her reluctance.

"If we stop all of this, wouldn't all timelines merge back into one? Wouldn't it be logical for you to be... You?" She shrugged at his words, rubbing her eyes together as she tried to get rid of the tears while Jungkook held her close to him. "It can't be the end, you'll always be in my heart, whatever happens. I'm sure it's not the end, it can't be."

"I don't know, Jungkook-"

"I don't know either but all of this can't continue. We have to make it stop. You have to stop hurting yourself. Because it hurts every time you die, doesn't it?" She winced as if caught like a deer. It only strengthened Jungkook's belief. If she could feel all of (Y/N)'s pain each time she died in all timelines, it could only mean that despite her not believing it, they all were the same identities. He would find this (Y/N) back into the one he was about to save if they stopped opening new timelines.

"We need to try (Y/N). We can't keep doing that on and on. You need to reach your happy ending, too."

"But what if it doesn't work? What if I just remain here?" She asked quietly and he tried not to think too much of this possibility.

"I don't believe it could happen, but if it does, I'll come to visit often. I promise. I don't know how, but I'll make it work. I'll find a way, trust me on that one. I told you again and again when we were kids: I don't do the same mistake twice."

"Please never let me go again." Whispering, she hugged him tightly, as if worried he would disappear. Jungkook held her as tight as he could, seeing colors slowly painting the world again. Her tears never ceased even as he tried to soothe her down, knowing this might be his last moment with the woman from the very first timeline, the one he wished he had saved and would maybe save if his intuition was good. He truly hoped that he was right and that he would find remanent of her in the (Y/N) he was about to go back to.

"Let's be happy together, let's make new memories, and let's live happily (Y/N). I'll be there, I promise. Let's see each other again and for real this time." He smiled at her while colors fully came back. Jungkook breathed softly; maybe he could find his happy ending too. Jungkook started to come out of the bubble that had been created and he heard the yelling woman again. He looked up to see (Y/N) looking straight at him as if she had seen everything, or been through everything. Her wide eyes didn't give him much information and he wondered if she remembered what they just talked about or if she heard it at least. He hoped she did. He hoped that she was the (Y/N) that he just talked to and at the same time, he hoped she couldn't remember everything he went through, nor the pain she had to suffer from. Taking her hand into his, Jungkook looked one last time where the 'first timeline (Y/N)' had been, before they disappeared, away from the bridge.

He would make everything right this time. He'd find a way not to mess it up again.

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agustdakasuga · 1 year

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 5

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 warning: Incident of stalking and the topic/ threat of potential suicide is brought up.

The rest of the weekend was, thankfully, less eventful for you. You could catch up on much needed sleep and finish a ton of university work, even advance assignments that weren’t taught yet. Now you were in front of your computer, looking at university majors.

“Just pick a major, (y/n). Why are you having such a hard time?!” You scolded yourself. The ‘narrowed’ list you made was far from small, there were still too many options to choose from.

‘Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange’

You found yourself typing out on the search engine. Many articles popped up, all singing different praises and words of adoration for the organisation.

“Charity funding... Sponsorships... Donations...” You briefly read through the some of the articles that listed what your father did. There he was, a picture of your dad, standing in the middle of the 7 men that you now know about.

“Acquainted with government officials and the president. Good relations all around.” You read outloud.

Considering how well known your father was, you were surprised you had never noticed his name in the news before to connect the dots that this man was your father. There was little said about the 7 though, only that they are your father’s ‘protogés’ or ‘apprentices’, trained to take over the company after your father retires as the head.

‘Park Jimin will be representing Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange in the high stakes charity poker game. There will be many other figureheads in attendance. Winnings will go to the winner’s charity of choice.’

“Wow, they are everywhere.” Your eyes widened. The company had a stake and connection in every industry. You did so much reading, you hadn’t realised that it was dinner time.

“What should I eat?” In the end, you ordered food for pick up at a nearby restaurant since they didn’t do delivery.

“Here you go. Enjoy your food and stay safe!” The old lady gave you the plastic bag of containers. With a grateful smile and a bow, you took the food and left to go home. It was Sunday night and you really didn’t want to be out of the house.

Jimin hummed as he straightened up, twirling his keys around his fingers. He poked his head out of the alley before he emerged. He adjusted his hair and straightened his suit jacket.

“How long more are you going to check your appearance?” Hoseok drove over, stopping his car right in front of Jimin, one arm perched on the door while the other stayed on the steering wheel. Jimin rolled his eyes but walked over, sitting in the passenger seat.

“You got it?” Hoseok asked.

“Did you seriously just ask me if I got it? Of course I got it.” Jimin waved the access card in front of Hoseok’s face. Hoseok snatched it, tucking it into the back pocket of his pants.

“Now where��s my stuff?” Jimin held his hands out like a child waiting for candy. The older reached into the back seat and tossed him something.

“Thank you~” Jimin grinned triumphantly. Unlike the others, Jimin was the first one to try Hoseok’s new shipment of weapons through this deal. He looked at the new pistol with modifications made and designed by Namjoon.

“This new silencer is supposed to be better and not affect the accuracy as much. Namjoon and his team tested it for ages.” Hoseok said.

“Well, he can use it after me.” Jimin smirked, pretending to aim the gun in front of him.

RINGGGGGG

“Taehyung, why are you calling? We’re on the way home.” Hoseok asked as he drove. Jimin threw in a greeting as well.

“Hyung!! You need to go help (y/n) right now! She called me all panicked, saying that she was being followed and then her phone died! She was coming from (restaurant name) so she should be along that path!”

“Okay, Taehyung! I’ll keep you updated.” Hoseok said and hung up. He stepped on the accelerator immediately, lurching the car forward in the direction of where you lived. Jimin pursed his lips, opting not to say anything and just follow along. It wasn’t his car anyway. Hoseok used the voice navigation to find where the restaurant was.

“How are we going to know where she is exactly?” Jimin asked.

“There aren’t too many streets, it’s one path. You wanted a reason to use your new gun, right?” Hoseok stopped the car. Jimin followed alongside Hoseok as they looked for you.

“(y/n)?!” Hoseok yelled out. Jimin heard footsteps and hushed Hoseok. He leaned into an alleyway and found a masked person with a cap walking around.

“What are you looking for?” Jimin pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of the person’s head. The unknown person visibly froze in his tracks, putting his hands up. Hoseok ran forward and found you hiding.

“(y/n)...” He looked at your traumatised, scared form. You had your knees drawn to your chest.

“H-Help.” You whimpered.

“I’ve got it, hyung. Call it... target practice. I’ll come home later.” Jimin sighed. Hoseok nodded, putting his jacket over your shoulders. He put his arms under you and hoisted you up.

“I’ll see you at home. Let’s go, (y/n).” Hoseok whispered. You tucked your head against his chest and Hoseok could feel you shaking in fear in his arms. He placed you in his car but was unsure of whether he should be taking you home or back to the boys’ house.

“(y/n), listen to me. You’re safe now. That person won’t find you, they won’t come after you. They can’t hurt you.” Hoseok spoke. You nodded your head slowly, not really processing what he was really saying.

“Do you want to go to your own home? Either way, I will stay with you to make sure you are not alone.” Hoseok promised.

“Please take me somewhere safe.” You requested.

“Okay.” Hoseok made the decision to take you to their home. You would definitely be safe and protected there with all of them home. He had informed the others of the arrangement.

“We’re here.” He pulled up in the driveway. You were so far gone that you didn’t notice the scale of the estate. It was a huge mansion.

With his arm around you, Hoseok slowly guided you into the house. He tossed his keys to the valet to park for him. The others had gotten the maids ready to welcome you to the house. But they stayed away to not overwhelm you further. The maids were all kind, receiving you gently and moving you up to the guest room. You just followed their lead quietly.

“How is she?” Namjoon asked.

“Scared, traumatised. I don’t know, I just removed her from the situation. Jimin is handling the guy.” Hoseok informed, falling back onto the lounge chair with a long sigh. Yoongi handed him a glass of whiskey.

“Chim is just... gonna kill the guy. We won’t know why she was targeted in the first place.” Jin folded his arms.

“We probably know the reason why. Word spreads faster underground than above ground. This is going to be the first of many.” Jungkook rolled his eyes as he drank his beer.

“Is it that serious? So quickly?” Taehyung scratched his head.

“Come on, Tae. We have been in this world forever. People die faster than you can snap your fingers.” Yoongi said.

“Anyway, let’s keep things to a minimum now that she is here, alright? We will talk about this in the morning.” Namjoon stopped the conversation. This was too much for him, all of a sudden, to be able to process. As everyone split up, Hoseok slipped into Jin’s cave.

“Jimin got it?” Jin knew who it was without having to turn around. His fingers danced across his keyboard as he typed away.

“It’s Jimin. Of course, he got it. It’s all his effort, I was just the getaway. You’re lucky I had something to incentivise him to do the job so quickly.” Hoseok clicked his tongue as he waved the access card that Jimin obtained.

“Here.” He tossed it onto the table.

“Thanks, Hoseok. I knew I could count on Jimin... and you, I guess.” Jin said with a chuckle.

“No problem. But wait, hyung. You can hack anything, why do you need this specific access card? Looks like you can get into the system just like that.” Hoseok asked as he peeked at Jin’s screen.

“Well, in this case, the person is smart. I can crack this system easily but the creator has put a tracker on everything. Better to go in through the old fashion way, avoid suspicion.” Jin shrugged, reaching over to take a sip of his plum wine. Seeing as to how Hoseok was just snooping, Jin chased him out and locked the door behind him.

“Here. We have some clothes for you to wear comfortably.” One of the maids handed you a set of clothing. It was a pair of home shorts and a really oversized white shirt.

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Young master Hoseok said that you didn’t get to your dinner so we are bringing up a tray of hot food for you now.” She informed. You nodded your head and went to change in the bathroom.

“Have some tea in the mean time. It will help calm you down.” She handed you the mug. You took it with both hands.

“Thank you... Sorry, that has never happened to me so I guess I’m quite shaken.” You forced a smile. She shook his head, patting your back.

“Young miss. Here is your food. Please enjoy.” Another maid came in carrying a tray. She placed the tray on the small table and you sat down. The spread was luxurious.

“Don’t worry, young miss. You are safe here.”

“Do you want us to stay with you?” She offered. You shook your head with a grateful smile. With a deep bow, they retreated out of the room. You wrapped your arms around yourself. After your mum died, there was no one to hug and comfort you like she did.

Your brain was a mess, trying to find a reason as to why you would have been followed. You kept to yourself, never really interacting or making friends easily. The person could just be trying to rob you or steal your dinner.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You replied. Taehyung poked his head in before walking in.

“Hey, (y/n). Are you doing okay?” Taehyung asked. You nodded your head. His eyes trailed to your tray. Your cutlery was still tucked into the napkin, a sign that you hadn’t touched your food.

“It must have been scary. But don’t worry, the guy isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Taehyung assured.

“I was worried he might follow me and know where I live, that’s why I agreed to be brought here. But the police was able to get him?” You tilted your head, relief in your voice. Taehyung nodded his head.

“Jimin handed him over to the cops after he was apprehended.” He lied.

“Thank you. Sorry for imposing and making you guys go all the way to help me when I’ve been nothing but stand offish and unfriendly.” You lowered your head. Taehyung softened slightly, looking at you. It wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. He knew you couldn’t help it, it was the only way you could protect yourself when you’re alone.

“Don’t think about that now. You’ll be safe here, (y/n). I promise. You should just rest here for the night and I’ll take you home in the morning.” Taehyung said.

“Alright. Thank you again, Taehyung sshi.”

“Stop thanking us. Goodnight.” He got up and left the room. You sighed, mentally grateful for the fact that he didn’t force you to stay, even offering to take you home in the morning.

Jimin yawned as he entered the house, smoke escaping his mouth as he exhaled. He removed his blood stained sweater and tossed it onto the ground.

“Is it settled?”

“Yoongi hyung, surprised to see you awake. And yes, it is settled. It was one guy, easily handled.” Jimin greeted with a nod of his head. Yoongi hummed, swirling his drink in his glass. Jimin walked over, leaning against the bar.

“So do I get a prize for saving the damsel?” Jimin smirked. Yoongi scoffed at how Jimin treated this like a game.

“You don’t like her, do you?”

“Whether I like her or not doesn’t matter now, does it?” The younger asked back, going to pour rum into a fresh crystal glass then proceeding to take a long sip.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope you were able to take it out on the poor guy. If you don’t like her then don’t cross paths with her. She’s in the first guest room. Namjoon’s going to have us talk to her tomorrow but I’ll get you out of it.” Yoongi offered.

“Nah, I’m not a coward.” Jimin declined. He refilled Yoongi’s glass with more whiskey before refilling his own.

“You’re going to have to learn to work with her sooner or later. We all know she’s a walking target board and as frustrating and burdensome as it is, she’s our Achilles heel.” Yoongi pointed out.

“Goodnight, hyung.” Jimin left the bar area first.

When you woke up the next morning, you laid in bed for a while before loitering around the room. You were not sure what you were supposed to do, have you woken up too early or too late compared to the others that lived in the house?

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You dove back under the covers. It was the same maid from the night before. She poked her head in before bowing.

“Good morning, agashi. When you are ready, young master Namjoon has called for you to join them for breakfast. I have some clothes here for you.” She held the folded clothes in her hands. You nodded your head and got up to go brush your teeth. When you came out, the curtains had been drawn, the uneaten food cleared and the bed was made.

“I will be outside to take you to the dining room after you’ve changed. Please take your time.” She put her hands together and bowed again then retreated out of the room.

“Alright then.” You changed into the short sleeve white button up blouse and skirt that was prepared, simple but elegant in its own way.

“I’m ready. Thank you for waiting.” You came out, running your fingers through your hair once more.

“Right this way.” She gestured and started walking.

“This house is huge. Very easy to get lost without a guide.” You commented, looking at all the doors you walked past. The maid nodded in agreement with a giggle. You followed her down the grand staircase.

“The young masters that are awake are having their meal now.” The maid said, opening the french doors for you to enter the dining room.

“Good morning, (y/n).” Namjoon smiled.

“Good morning.” You bowed your head shyly and stepped in. The maid was behind you, closing the doors and leading you to your seat at the dining table. The butler pulled the chair out for you to sit down. You sat beside Namjoon, trying not to maintain eye contact with anyone at the table.

“A drink to start, agashi? We have tea, coffee, juices.” The butler offered.

“I’ll have a coffee, please. Umm... A cappuccino.” You ordered randomly. It wasn’t your more usual drink but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience. This was already all too much for you.

“I hope you slept well.” Taehyung smiled.

“I did... Thank you.” You spoke softly. The butler came and placed the breakfast tray in front of you.

“Thank you for the food.” You were still speaking softly, hoping that despite that, the butler could hear your gratefulness. You picked up your chopsticks and dug into the food. It was light and delicious, just what you needed.

The breakfast strangely felt normal. The boys chatted amongst themselves, normal chat, nothing really out of the normal. You guessed it was because they were still tired. You didn’t feel the right or need to participate in their chatter, focusing on the food on the tray in front of you. You wanted to just keep to yourself and avoid contact.

“(y/n), can we talk in the living room?” Taehyung requested when you were done with breakfast. You nodded your head, following behind them.

“Go wake Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok.” Jin ordered the butler. He nodded with a bow and retreated upstairs to the bedrooms. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited.

“Morning.” Hoseok yawned as he walked over. Jungkook and Jimin sleepily shuffled over.

“Thank you again for last night. Really.” You stood up to bow to Hoseok and Jimin. You still didn’t really know all their names but you still felt the need to express your gratitude. The two blinked, unsure of how to react.

“(y/n), unfortunately, we believe that you were targeted for a reason last night. We’re unsure of why but if someone is really after you, they’re not going to stop.” Namjoon explained.

“I’m in danger?”

“Luckily Hoseok and Jimin could get to you in time. But it’s serious and we want to make sure you’re safe.” He continued. You nodded your head.

“We’ve discussed as brothers... We don’t want to force you into anything. But we know that we need to get along with one another. The other roles and responsibilities, the future of all of this, we can think about that later. We just take it one step at a time.” Another spoke.

“Why is someone out to get me? I don’t know anything? This... All this isn’t me. I keep to myself, I don’t make enemies. Why is this happening?” You started to freak out.

“(y/n), calm down. Breathe. You’re going to have a panic attack.”

“I’ve always been alone, on my own. Everything I’ve done, it was only ever for my mother and myself.” You held your head.

“You don’t have to be alone and shoulder everything on your own anymore, (y/n).” Taehyung said.

“I only agreed to go to the funeral because I thought I was honouring a dead man’s wish. If I had known, by showing my face, that it was a trip to an early grave, I would have killed myself when my mother died.” You said.

“This would have happened sooner or later, (y/n). Whether you showed up at the funeral of not. I’m sorry, we know that this is a lot to take in at one time.” Jin spoke cautiously.

“I didn’t ask for this-”

“You think we asked for any of this? All we’ve been doing is chasing after you, having to coddle you, ‘adjust’ to you. While doing all that, did you think we’ve had the chance to mourn? No because it’s all about you and how this is unfair to you.” Jimin finally spoke, letting all his frustration pour out.

“Jimin. Leave, now.” Namjoon stood up, his voice grew serious as his ordered the younger male. Jimin rolled his eyes but stormed out of the living room. You pursed your lips.

“Please... I want to go home.” You begged.

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

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whalyrae · 2 months

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THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 4

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : After months of struggling with life, health, mental health issues... I can FINALLY POST AGAIN !! This chapter was really hard to write (I cried a little at the end ngl :D), I have constant writer block, constant impostor syndrome... I have the perfectionnism trait but in a toxic way really TT.TT Don't hesitate to like and reblog !! Also don't be afraid to leave a little comment or if you have any questions, here or in anon in my inbox !! they are really really welcomed, I love reading all your impressions and thoughts !!

Also thank you so much !! I was inactive for a very long time and I still got daily alerts with people who liked/kudos the chapters and the story :(( I can't express (yeah i'm an author and i can't express through words LOL) how much i'm grateful :(( ♥♥

ps : ah and sorry if there is any mistakes or anything it's almost 2:30am when I post this and I had an really emotionnal day fgkfdhlfk LOVE YALL MUAH ♥

Playlist link : The Old Guard Playlist

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

She was wondering whether it would be better to ask Handong to stay with her. She had assured her that she would handle the situation and that Handong could go home. She knew that Gahyeon would need her at their coffee shop.

However, now that she was in the living room of the seven boys, her soulmates’, after bringing one of them in an utterly unconscious state for a reason as unknown to them as it was to her, she was starting to regret this decision.

She couldn't understand what had happened with Jin the moment their eyes met. She couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in her throat as they stared at each other without a word. He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but just like her, nothing came out.

He'd known she was his soul mate, of course he could feel it. Just like her. But had he recognized her? Did he know that the two of them were the firsts of their soulmate bond to meet, long before any of the other six were born? She couldn't be sure and didn't have time to find out.

She had seen his features contort in pain, and without a word, he had collapsed. Luckily, Handong, who had seen them, was able to catch him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself.

Thanks to a spell that increased her strength tenfold, she could carry him without Handong’s help and any difficulty to the place where he lived with his mates. But she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, worried sick about him.

And that's where she is now. Jungkook helped her carry Jin to the living room, laying him on the sofa. While Yoongi woke up Taehyung and Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok hurried to get a damp cloth on Jin's forehead.

Namjoon and Taehyung stormed into the room, not hiding their surprise at seeing her there in total panic.

However, they didn't ask any questions. Yoongi probably had to explain to them what happened and what was going on.

She was standing in front of the sofa where Jin was lying, staring at the unconscious demon, his features distorted by pain. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach twist with soreness.

"Hey, Noona..." Jimin's soft voice startled her. He was standing next to her, a comforting smile on his lips, "Everything’s going to be fine, don't worry..."

She didn't even know what to say. She didn't dare to look him in the eye, or any of the other boys. The guilt she'd been carrying around with her all these centuries was only getting stronger.

She could hear voices behind her, probably the boys talking amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to her. She didn't know. Nothing around her was clear and precise. Her vision was blurring, her heart rate had been racing for a while and she was getting worse.

She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round abruptly, facing Namjoon. The other boys were behind him, except for Yoongi who was next to Jin.

"Hey," he greeted her with a gentle smile, "don't worry, everything's going to be fine,” he repeated Jimin’s words, “You're having a panic attack, I'm gonna help you, okay? Look at me."

His voice was soft and reassuring, it had a calming effect on her. His presence and warmth invaded her whole being, despite the anxiety attack she was having.

She raised her eyes to meet him. Slowly, he tells her to take long, deep breaths. The first time, she breathed in and breathed out. Then a second time. And a third.

Finally, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate calmed. Seeing this, Namjoon gave her another smile, his fingers caressing her shoulder to calm her down.

She had the strange impression that Namjoon probably possessed some kind of power capable of influencing the emotions, feelings, or even bodily reactions of the people he touched. Or maybe it was just the soulmate effect.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes... Thank you..." She replied with a small smile, seeing Hoseok approach her with a glass of water. "Thanks… and sorry, I wish we'd met under different circumstances..."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm enchanted to meet you."

Hoseok gave her a big, bright smile, which he succeeded in communicating to her.

"I guess you guys have questions... and why did I show up with Jin in this state..."

She turned her attention to Jin. A wave of emotion suddenly washed over her as she realized that yes, he was there, in the same room as her. Her soul mate, the first to cross her way, the one she'd lost so suddenly and brutally centuries ago. A mixture of joy, sadness, guilt, and apprehension.

"Do you know what's going on with him? And why is he in this condition?" Hoseok asked curiously, taking back the glass she'd just drunk in one long sip.

She bit her lower lip nervously. She had to tell them. Jin was their soulmate, just like he was hers.

But where to start?

"Come on, settle down here."

Yoongi straightened up to install her on the sofa, right next to Jin still unconscious. He'd then sat down next to her, while the others had taken seats in front of her, Namjoon and Hoseok on the low table, the maknae on the floor, clinging to each other.

The sight made her smile gently. But quickly the smile disappeared, replaced by apprehension. The words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. She knew that the moment had come, that once she'd told them everything, they'd hate her, reject her, and she’d lose the people she'd waited for all her life.

"Noona... I can smell your fear all the way up here..." murmured Jimin, her eyes landing on him with surprise, "I'm an empath, by the way..." he explained with a shrug.

"You don't have to be an empath to sense the fear radiating from her." chuckled Taehyung, teasing his companion who gave him a nudge on the shoulder, "Oops, sorry sweetie."

"I know that from the moment you will know the whole story, you'll never want to hear from me again and I... argh that's the last thing I want," she admitted with a sad smile. The events of the last few days had paralyzed and overwhelmed her in some ways when it came to making the right decisions, and she was extremely upset with herself about this.

"But I think I need to stop being scared, and selfish like I have been."

"We could never hate you," Hoseok said firmly, the others all giving signs of approval, "no matter what you've done."

"Tell us all the horrible things you ever did, and let us love you anyway."

She recognized Namjoon's words. And she wasn’t surprised that he could quote Edgard Allan Poe, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

She couldn't deny that his words made her feel a tinge of comfort, because he was sincere, and every one of the other boys thought so.

But they didn't know the whole story yet, so the chances of them thinking differently once they knew the whole truth were pretty high.

"Where to start..." she took a long breath, "Jin... I met him before I even knew I was immortal. That was... uh... it seems like an eternity now, at the beginning of the 15th century."

She expected the exclamations of surprise that followed.

"Wait... you mean you and Jin hyung..." Jungkook fell silent to think.

"Why didn't he ever tell us about you then? And why have we never met you before ?” asked Yoongi skeptically, "You're our soulmate, his soulmate, how could he..."

"It's more complicated than it sounds..." she sighed, scratching the back of her head nervously. "I always knew I was a witch, my mother was a witch herself. I lived in a village in France during the period when the witch hunts began. It was also during this period that the Malleus Maleficarum was written."

"I know this book," Hoseok sighed loudly as he shook his head, visibly annoyed, "this pile of garbage written in the late 15th century, which supposedly explains what a witch is, how to recognize one, interrogate them, and kill them."

"A load of bullshit yeah," Namjoon added with a chuckle, "I rarely waste my time reading books, but this one..."

"Tell me more !" Jimin exclaimed, "I read it too, well, not all of it, it's so... misogynistic and sexist!"

"I... was one of the witches who had to go through all the torture and experimentation to write this... book or whatever it is. And most of the women who suffered all that crap were just ordinary mortals," she admitted with a little restraint.

Horrified exclamations were heard from the maknaes and Hoseok. Yoongi and Namjoon closed their eyes for a few seconds, repressing the anger rising within them.

Talking about these events did not leave her indifferent; these memories were among the worst she had ever known, and she still sometimes had nightmares about them.

She remained silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up.

"That's not the point. Jin is the point. When I met him, he was a merchant passing through the village." A small smile appeared mechanically as she recalled this memory, "It was love at first sight. Of course, it was. He knew I was his soul mate, but I... I didn't even know what a soulmate was. He taught me. He taught me so many things..."

She turned her head towards Jin, still unconscious beside her. Oh, how she'd missed him. He hadn't changed a bit.

"I immediately sensed that he wasn't human, just as he'd guessed that I was a witch. So much better in a way, it made things easier."

Delicately, she let her fingers stroke his forehead, brushing aside a few strands of hair, a tender smile on her face.

"He stayed in the village after that. I had taken over the bakery from my parents who had passed away from an illness a few months before I met him. We weren't the richest, but we were happy.”

The other boys couldn't contain the grins on their faces. Of course, this story was beautiful and worthy of a fairy tale. But they all knew that fairy tales were only fantasy stories. The reality was not nearly as lovely.

"We lived... two years like that before everything went to hell."

She felt her hands tremble as she recalled what she was about to say.

Jimin sensed her nervousness, fear, and sadness. He left Taehyung and Jungkook's embrace to kneel before her, gently taking her hands in his for comfort.

Her gaze met his, and he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. But she couldn't relax.

"The witch-hunt had begun and was becoming increasingly virulent and violent. The villagers had always thought it was strange that I hadn't suffered the same illness as my parents. I knew the rumors about Jin and I. But until now, we'd managed to keep a discreet, almost unnoticed presence. Until she came along."

Jimin squeezed her hands a little tighter as he felt her anger rising.

"That demoness... came to our village, supposedly a cloth merchant. She fell for Jin. Was it love, or just a physical attraction? I don’t know. She succumbed to his devastating charm, like so many others before her." She chuckled, imitated by Yoongi.

"As you would expect, Jin did nothing but ignore her and rebuff her advances. She didn't appreciate it at all… I learned later that this half-succubus demoness was renowned for finding prey and not letting go until she got what she wanted."

"A real nasty leech..." muttered Jungkook.

She noticed, however, that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok expressions had changed. They had exchanged glances, seeming to pass a message to each other that she didn't understand. She decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Things got worse after she arrived, after Jin's rejection." She took a long breath. "She's the one who delivered me to the villagers, who exposed me. When we realized her plan, that she was planning to take Jin with her by force, by any means necessary, we wanted to run away. We'd go to Asia, or America, or wherever, to another continent, away from her, away from all of this. But that demoness had planned everything… We were young, unaware, and inexperienced, unlike her. I was barely 25, and he was 23... we just wanted to..."

She paused to calm herself, her heartbeat quickening again. Fortunately, Jimin was able to calm her, just by being here, his soft hands on hers, and she was grateful for that. She thanked him with a small smile, which he returned by stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. How could a demon be so angelic?

"She specialized in memory magic..."

"Oh, I'm getting the hang of it..." muttered Namjoon, clenching his jaw.

"That bitch…" added Yoongi, making her huff.

"The villagers arrived in the middle of the night. We didn't see it coming. The demoness took advantage of this moment to attack Jin and cast a spell to erase me from his memory. The last time I saw Jin was before they put a bag over my head when he was unconscious in her arms."

She lowered her head, and it was only when she felt Jimin's soft hand on her cheek that she noticed a tear had rolled down.

She knew what the demoness had done, she knew that she'd erased Jin's memory, simply because she'd come to see her a few days later in the cell where she was being held captive. She explained everything, adding that she had offered to give her over to the Catholic order of Dominicans who wrote the Malleus Maleficarum. Which happened, the day after she came.

"When I finally escaped... After several months," she continued anyway, her voice trembling, "I looked for him, I... crossed France from top to bottom, and Europe... I looked for him everywhere, for many years... I never found him... until now..."

Jimin's hands gripped hers a little tighter. She looked up at him, then at Yoongi, who had moved a little closer to her. Their shoulders were touching, his way of showing her some comfort.

"So that's what happened..." muttered Namjoon, who had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowed, looking thoughtful.

"I hate humans..." blurted Jungkook as he hugged Taehyung tightly, his companion nodding in agreement.

"And so, you thought we'd hate you, or I don't know what other nonsense might go through your little head when we know the truth?" Yoongi asked, holding back a laugh. “I don’t see why. I mean. It’s genuine, really.”

She arched her eyebrows in confusion. She thought that it seemed logical. She hadn't been able to protect Jin, she’d left him in the clutches of this demoness who'd probably done a thousand and one things to him that she didn't even want to think about. She hated herself for it.

"Hyung." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head, "stop."

"I failed to protect him, he's my soulmate and... I abandoned him and..."

"You didn't do any of that, Y/N."

Namjoon approached her. He took Jimin’s place and knelt down facing her, placing his hands on hers.

"You're both the victims. You've met someone stronger, older, more experienced than you and she took advantage of it. You did everything you could. You did your best. You could never be blamed for that. We could never blame you for that. ."

"And Jin hyung won't blame you either, I'm sure," Hoseok added with a small smile. "When he will regain his memory, when we will give him back what that demoness stole from him, he'll be the happiest man in the world to have you back with him, with us. Believe me."

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry, not yet.

Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

"It's over now," he whispered against her hair, "you're not alone anymore, you won't be. We've found you, you've found us."

She couldn't hold back the few tears that had started to fall. How could she not break down, after all those centuries spent alone, thinking that her soulmates didn't want her, living with the guilt of having abandoned the only soulmate she’d ever known.

They said the same things as her friends when she told them everything a few days ago.

None of them thought for a second that what happened to Jin and her was her fault.

That feeling of being understood, of not being judged, of being accepted despite her past mistakes and scars.

That feeling of being in the presence of her soul-mates.

She hadn't felt so at peace in what seemed like an eternity. Ever since Jin and her were separated.

°°°

"Noona... I have a few questions..."

"Here we go... the kid and his questions. Wait, I'll get you an aspirin and a big glass of water."

Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who had gotten up to go into the kitchen, a sneer on his lips.

Jin still hadn't woken up, but after a simple soothing spell and an herbal ointment she’d carefully placed on his temples, he was calmer, his body more relaxed.

She hadn't wanted to stay, not wanting to risk another attack if Jin woke up again. She learned through Yoongi about the migraine attacks he'd had since the day she met Namjoon.

But the boys convinced her to stay. Namjoon and Hoseok had disappeared into their library, explaining that they were going to rummage through their books after a potential counter-spell. She wanted to go with them, but they insisted she stay with Jin and rest.

It didn't take long to realize that Jin's seizures had a direct link with her.

As her soul mate, and despite his forced amnesia, his subconscious knew who she was. But it wasn't strong enough to bring back the memories the demoness had made disappear. Well, they hadn't disappeared, technically; she'd just hidden them very well somewhere in his psyche.

her scent on the clothes of Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been the trigger for his subconscious to awaken, for his memories to struggle, to resurface and make Jin realize that yes, he did know her, as his intuition suggested. Yes, the person on the hill was her, yes every memory he thought belonged to someone else was his, and that the blurry person sharing them with him was none other than her.

The migraines, the loss of consciousness... were only signs that his body, mind, and soul were fighting to bring his memories back to where they belonged, to finally give him back what that demoness had stolen from him.

Or at least, that's what she’d come to conclude on hearing Yoongi's explanations.

"Ask me anything Jungkook, don't worry," she replied with a small smile, still sitting next to Jin.

Yoongi had returned with some drinks (no aspirin, to Junkook's great relief) which he gave to the three maknae, still sitting opposite her, and to her, then sat down on the coffee table.

"I was wondering, how did you find out that you were... immortal? I mean, what does that actually mean?"

She'd been expecting this question. Even for demons, immortality was still a rather vague concept. Nobody is immortal. Demons and vampires aged slowly, very much more slowly than human beings. But they weren't really immortal.

"I died for the first time after the Malleus Maleficarum experiments, they sentenced me to be hanged to death, like all the witches at that time."

She heard the exclamations of surprise from the maknaes. Yoongi remained silent, listening to her attentively.

"I actually died that day. Except... except a few seconds after I took my last breath, my heart started beating again, and I came back to life."

None of them could believe their ears. Yoongi couldn't hide his surprise either, and she knew that a thousand questions were forming in their heads.

"The second time was a few days later. At a bonfire." she continued, bowing her head, "The thing is… I feel all the pain, all the way to death. But for some reason, I live again and again. No matter how people try to kill me, no matter how I die, my wounds heal themselves, my organs reform."

"Is it due to a spell?" finally asked Yoongi with his eyebrows furrowed, "or maybe some kind of witch, a hybrid with a phoenix..."

"I think you're going a bit far, hyung..." Taehyung chuckled slightly.

"Hey, every proposition can be plausible, gamin."

She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obvious that they'd known each other for several decades now, that they'd been through a lot together. In a way, she was relieved that at least they hadn't had to go through all that alone.

"I've never known the reason, or why I became like that," she finally continued, scratching the back of her neck, "I just am. Several times I thought I wouldn't get up this time from certain injuries, especially during the wars, but I always got up again. And just like that, more than 600 years have gone by."

"Maybe it's just that fate didn't want you to die before you met your soul mates, who knows." Yoongi chuckled, shrugging.

"If you think the universe and destiny are that kind of romantic..." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"I'm tempted to believe that theory, it's much sweeter and more romantic than a curse put on you..." added Jimin with a little pout.

"Sometimes things just happen, and they're impossible to explain. Even for creatures like us." she let go with a sigh and an embarrassed smile, "In any case, I've stopped looking and obsessing over it, I've just accepted it."

"Still, it must be painful to die, over and over again..." Jimin cocked his head to the side, feeling a wave of sadness as he thought of all she'd had to go through in her long life. As an empath, his reaction hardly surprised her.

If they knew. She didn't want to dwell on how some humans and even other creatures had taken advantage of her immortality to put her through the many horrors she’d experienced. This wasn't the time to talk about all those things.

“Our pretty soulmate is strong and courageous.” Yoongi finally broke the silence after a few seconds, “She’ll talk about it when she feels ready.”

She bites her lips. She wanted to tell him to not call her pretty, but she felt that it was destined to fail. Yoongi seemed to be stubborn, maybe a little too much.

“Do you guys think Joonie and Hobi will find something ?” Asked Jungkook, looking at Jin with worry.

“For sure they will!” exclaimed Jimin, “Namjoon has books that are centuries old and unique, Hobi and him are the most intelligent demons ever! They’ll find something, surely!”

Jimin was passionate, his trust in his partners was blind and absolute. It was probably the same for all of them, she was sure about it, but Jimin was the one who showed it the most.

“In the worst case…”

“Taehyung don’t start…” mumbled Jungkook, as the others sighed.

“Let me finish! In the worst case, if we don’t find anything for Jin hyung, the solution is simple, very simple. We’ll create new memories, so many new happy memories all together!”

“If something was robbed from you without your consent, I think you'd like to have it back. Don't you think so?" Yoongi asked, his voice softened as he ruffled Taehyung’s hair who nodded with a sad pout.

He was just as worried as the others. There were so many unanswered questions, so many theories without explanations, so many problems without solutions yet.

“Namjoon and Hoseok always find a way to resolve problems, you should be used to it now.”

That voice startled all of them. All five heads turned to the sofa beside Yoongi and her. To everyone's surprise, Jin was staring at them, or rather, at her.

“Jin you’re awake !”

While the younger hurried towards their eldest, their faces racked with worry and relief, she reflexively stepped back.

She couldn't get very far, as her back bumped into a chest. She turned to face Yoongi, who placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He could read the stress and apprehension on her face. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now, coming face to face with the one she'd lost centuries ago.

"Where are you going like this?" he asked at first in a slightly teasing tone, before he leaned towards her and whispered, his voice softening, "Relax, everything's fine."

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She'd spent her whole life looking for Jin and his other soulmates. Now they were all here. They were all in the same house. Everything still seemed so unreal that she didn’t know how to react or what to do.

“Y/N ?”

She froze when she heard her name coming from Jin's lips. The others in the room gave him a surprised, confused look.

"Hyung, do you..."

"Remember her? Us? Unfortunately not, I don’t. But I heard you guys talking earlier, I wasn't totally unconscious. Thanks for the herbs, by the way, they really appeased my headache."

Her eyes widened at his words. Had he heard everything? Did he know the whole story, just like his other soulmates? In a way, she didn't know if she could handle a new explanation, which was a bit of a relief. On the other, she was concerned about his reaction, since he was the one who was affected.

Jin straightened up to sit on the sofa, helped by Jimin. Yoongi was still standing behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, so that she didn't push herself aside.

Jin's eyes landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing, just looked at her. She could feel the stress twisting her stomach, her legs going limp as cotton. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before.

"Can you come a little closer, please?"

Jin's voice was soft; she perceived no anger, no resentment on his side. He had kept his comforting aura, the same one she'd known so long ago, the same one that had reassured her countless times.

She soon faced him and lowered herself slightly to be at the same height as him.

How was someone supposed to react to finding their soulmate and youthful amnesiac love, lost in tragic circumstances centuries ago?

She was torn between tears of joy and relief, but the guilt that consumed her seemed to be the most dominant feeling at the moment.

"Jin I..."

She pursed her lips. Her voice trembled. For sure her body would betray her right now.

Jin offered him a tender smile and shook his head.

"Shht, it's all right." he murmured his words as he gently grasped her hand, "come here."

Without waiting for a response from her, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.

At first, her eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms followed and she hugged his waist as if her life depended on it.

"I know what you're thinking," he began, his hand running gently through her hair, "I'm not angry or anything, how could I be? It was never your fault, nor mine." He paused before letting out a small sigh, she could hear all the pain, the sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you've had to carry this burden all alone all this time…"

Her whole body was shaking. His voice was shaking, as if he were holding back his own tears. She was fighting inside. She was fighting herself not to break down. But her traitorous body still betrayed her, and she couldn't even control her tears, which had started to flow uncontrollably.

But his words. His words resonated not only in her heart but in her entire soul. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words from him until now.

"We'll find a way, and everything will go back to normal, it will be even better, I promise."

After all these years, these centuries of living with the weight of guilt, the weight of regret, the feeling that she'd never be able to meet her soul mates... she felt all this weight recede, making way for a quietude and lightness like she'd never known before.

An eternity of torment, torture, and pain was finally over.

It was as if she'd been deprived of oxygen all her life, until now, as if her breathing had been cut off, and now she was finally getting it back.

And even though she was currently crying her heart out in Jin's arms, she could also feel Taehyung's warm, reassuring hand on her back, Jimin's, Jungkook's, and Yoongi's presence in the room, Namjoon's and Hoseok's, even if they weren't in the same room with them.

Her cries were no longer cries of sadness. There was only relief, and it was becoming more of an evacuation from all that time of pain and isolation.

All those smells, all that warmth that invaded her body at that moment, brought her calm and relief she'd never be able to explain, not even in a day, a year, ten years, or even a hundred years.

The reunion with Jin that day, feeling him against her again, as well as having the presence of her soul mates around them, those who were destined for her. After all this time where her heart and soul had been crying out for help, she had finally been heard.

The darkness was finally disappearing, as the clouds and obscurity finally allowed the sun a chance to shine.

And despite her tears, she couldn't help smiling, because at last, she knew that happiness really was within her grasp.

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darkphoenix07 · 9 months

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Elixir of 🕸️Death (J.W)

A vampire series by @darkphoenix07

Mental health request

Masterlist

Paring : Wooyoung x Reader

Genre : Dark Romance, Fantasy, Tragedy

Song suggestion 🎶 : Listen before I go by Billie Eilish, House of cards ♠️ by BTS.

Warning ⚠️ : Mentions of blood, Violence, Degradation, Death, Mention of suicide.

Synopsis : When the girl who doesn't have any will to live meets the demon whose only wish to slaughter humans.

"How will it help me if I drain your blood right now when I can use you anyway I want to?"

- Jung Wooyoung

🍷 "To the people who craves comfort and a single reason to keep themselves alive" 🍷

"There lived my beloved

Weeping for some love

Chasing delicate poisons

To keep her soul alive"

Staring at the ripples, the only thing that comes in your mind is, "If you jump here, how long it will take for you to lose your senses at a point that you won't feel that you've stopped breathing."

Death has always fascinated you. Not only because you were drawn to it through the circumstances of your life. It was because the times you were standing in front of the death valley and how it felt when you were there. They were the only times you felt free, you didn't have any sort of thoughts that would break you or you didn't think of giving someone any explanation.

Unfortunately, you were saved each time by someone which has started to patrify you nowadays.

At a time, you started to feel like you were doing fine. You were thinking that you are alive that was enough for everyone. Like you, others were grateful for you not giving up on your life. But in the end of the day, people got tired of your existence, the way you behaved, the sentences you spoke. It all became a havoc for them, you and your breath.

You relentlessly keep walking by the river through the forest. People call it Red Forest because they think someone ominous lives here and eats people alive. They call that person demon, vampire, werewolf, siren and many more. Because no one knows what it is living here for centuries and no one comes back from this forest alive.

You thought a multiple times that if you end up going back home alive after wondering around here, you'll give up on dying thinking that even God doesn't want to take you back to Him. So, it will only be fair to stop pushing yourself.

Even the moon is hiding from you tonight and there are no animas around. It feels like you are in an empty arena filled with old trees and the river alongside. The cold breeze are now running through your veins. You think if that demon doesn't kill you tonight, the heavy winds may as you are shivering to death.

Your pale blue short dress with love shape front and long sleeves is not enough to keep you warm. You intensionally left your overcoat home but maybe it was too much brutal for you as well.

As you walk a little further, you notice an old mansion with black woods. There was no light inside, you thought but something about the house started to pull you closer.

Maybe the sweet delicate smell of old woods or maybe the little fireflies around the windows wanting some shelter inside. You gotta say that the house was creepy yet the decorations were lively.

You stand in front of the door and knock on the door with your knuckles not finding any bell to ring. Maybe hoping for some horror to find you and filing your wishes.

The town you live in is called "Melanite." The houses here are old and because of this forest there are no developments in here. So you thought this house was one of them and maybe no one lives here.

But someone opens the door leaving you slightly shocked.

His red eyes glimmered in the dark but you couldn't see him properly only his black attire. A sleeveless shimmery shirt and some ribbon around his throat. His pants are loose around his ankles and hiding his boots underneath.

"What do you want?"

His voice is raspy and vouge. It takes you a minute to understand what he asked.

"I am-"

Before you can utter another word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the mansion. Closing his door by your back, he pins your hand behind your waist. Your instincts made you close your eyes but when you start feeling his cold breathe on your face, you look into those glimmering eyes staring into yours.

He is twisting your hand behind your back but all you can see is his beautiful shaped face. How perfectly sharped his jawline is, how beautiful his pale skin looks and his terrifying eyes, they look like crimson crystals or drop of blood you can't decide.

"Are you here to unalive me, Ms? How foolish of them to send a pretty woman in front of my door thinking I will be hypnotized. But they don't know I've seen thousands of beauties like you, drained their blood with my own fangs and ripped them apart one by one."

You thought he is going to say something more but you staring at him like you have seen the most beautiful thing on the earth caught him off guard.

He leaves your hand and crosses his hands around his chest, "Who sent you this time?"

"I came here alone," you tell him the truth but he doesn't believe a word you say. Instead he thumps his hands beside you and stops inches away from you.

"Don't lie to me. There are people outside, right?" He asks you again and this time you smile.

"Tell me if these are lenses or you are a real monster?" You ask him again catching him off guard by your words.

"Lenses? What kind of weapon are they? You think I need weapons?" He says and you smile again shaking your head.

"So you are a monster, you are not playing dumb. I'm glad to know they exist."

"You better tell me who are you or I'll drain you right n-"

"Are you afraid of humans?" You cross your hands this time throwing him the question.

"How dare you ask me that? Why would I be afraid of some puny species!"

He backs off of you like he felt wronged by your question and you start to chuckle.

"Are you really alone?" He asks you making you stop chuckling.

You look at him then through the window of the dark living room, "You have no idea."

You don't hear anything from him for a while until he opens the door, looks around and again closes it, "I smell no human."

"I am glad," you reply sarcastically but he doesn't catch it.

"Why are you glad? Are they inside my home?" He asks you starting to look around.

"NO!" You almost scream in frustration.

"Then how did you find this place?" He asks you calmly this time.

You thought if there is something to explain or you should straight up tell him what you really want.

Then, "You are a vampire, ha? That was supposed to be a myth but you are truly real," you don't know why your words sound very lame to you.

But he took it nicely, "As you can see, I am. I am not the only one, there are more hidden among humans too."

It gives you shiver but you forget about it as soon as you remember what is the reason you came here for.

"I want you to do something for me."

"Are you ordering me?" His voice become hoarse than before. It's so vivid whenever he is mad.

You look down and start to play with your nails as you speak up, "I want to give you all of my blood right now."

"What? Did you mix anything in your blood? Is that what you were pl-"

"No, I just... I don't want to live anymore. I have been searching an easy way to do so but I couldn't. I failed too many times and I am tired. I can't do it myself anymore," you sounded pathetic but that's just how you are.

"You want me to drain you? You look already pale," you look at him hearing concern in his voice.

You have always been an empath and it helped you understanding everyone so well yet you never knew that a vampire could feel anything let alone concern.

"I just want you to drain me enough that I die. You'll get some blood and I'll get what I want," you tell him all these like you are doing some business deal.

The way he looked at you told you otherwise, "I am hungry. I haven't had blood for two months. If I really start, I wouldn't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

"Do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? Don't you have any value of your life?"

"If I had, I wouldn't come here knowing a monster lives here."

"I can turn you if you want to. You can l-"

"Did I say I want to live forever? I said I don't want to live a second so for God's sake kill me!"

Your knees starts trembling with your lips. You start feeling numb by the coldness you feel on your skin. You tried getting better being a person but you ended up hurting people, making a massacre. You tried to find any single reason for you to live but you only see yourself as a worst kind of omen.

"Alright then," you hear him say and feel him moving through the cold winter wind, coming in front of you.

You know, you couldn't run away now. Your legs have already given up on you.

But the thing is, you don't want to run away.

You flinch when you feel his index finger on your chin lifting your face up, "A birdy has come to my cage willingly tonight," he starts walking forward and you start walking backwards hearing his words.

"Do you think I will kill her just like that?" He smirks and one of his fangs shows up.

You can't hear anything without your own heartbeat. Even the wind is silent. You want to take a deep breath but it feels like something is stuck in your throat.

"Look I just want to die. I d-"

"I want to keep you safe for my long time meal. Killing you with one go won't give me fun," he grabs your chin and pull your face closer to his as he bends over you.

"I will feed you and kill you everyday. Because blood doesn't taste good when you don't have any fear in your veins."

Suggest me songs you may think can be suitable for this series. *Wink* *wink*

Chapter 2 ( Drain or Drown )

Chapter 3 ( Death Deal )

Chapter 4 ( Bloody Comfort)

161 notes · View notes

bibbykins · 1 year

Text

Moonlight Reign Ch. 2

A/N: Sorry I keep disappearing, but hopefully I won't be doing it again! Nothing crazy happened, really, just life gets in the was, you know? But I am back with another part, and I hope you like it!! Everyone say thank you to my sweet B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading. She is the best, go read her stuff!! Also strap in for this one lol

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, talk of stitches, wound description, panic attack, nails pressing into palm, brief suicidal thought

Namjoon watched the clock tick by as Jungkook slept on his chest. Something about you… didn’t feel right. He couldn’t explain it, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t jealous. Although, he would have reason to be. You were beautiful and your figure only added to it. Not to mention the way you looked straddling Jungkook was objectively erotic looking– but that wasn’t the point. The point was how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. From giving his boyfriend stitches to fighting him off to reacting that way when he grabbed you, Namjoon knew there was something more there.

The seven of them had built Bangtan from the ground up, and especially as anniversary day was coming up, it unnerved him to encounter someone he couldn’t get a read on. He would need to have Yoongi look into what he could find about you. The seven of them were all leaders, but Namjoon controlled the above-ground operations while Yoongi managed the underground ones, and something told Namjoon he’d need to look there for anything about you.

First, he just had to get your full name from the younger man drooling on his chest. He sighed as he brushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair, wanting to be angry with him for getting drunk and getting into a fight, but he just couldn’t. After the last few years Jungkook had, he deserved to let loose, what worried him was that he was doing him more often than usual. Jungkook usually only acted out this much when he was holding something in. It didn’t help that the leader had been halfway across the world for the past month. Namjoon was never one to pry or be too good with feelings out of all of them, but he had a nagging feeling it had to do with you.

Eventually, sleep found the older man and he was awoken by the smell of food wafting into the bedroom. His eyes finally cracked open when he felt a kiss being planted on his cheek, “Wakey, wakey.” Hoseok sang, and chuckled at the look of confusion Namjoon gave him, “Jungkook called us all over for breakfast since it’s been a while since we’ve all been in the same city.”

Namjoon was finally fully awake and could hear Jungkook singing along to some show tune with Jin in the kitchen and scoffed, “He’s awfully spry for someone who should be nursing one hell of a hangover.” He mumbled and Hoseok snorted.

“Yeah, I’m sure Yoongi is going to want a full report on last night.” The older man shook his head, knowing it would only stress out the aforementioned man, “Brightside is he should calm down when Jimin and Taehyung tell him the news.” The younger man raised a brow in question but Hoseok shook his head, “I’m not the type to spoil a surprise.” He chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the man’s furrowed brow, “You’ll know soon enough, let’s go.”

Hand in hand, the two take their seats as Jin and Jungkook place plates in front of the five sitting men, “I see someone is trying to make up for getting trashed last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Or I just miss having all my boyfriends in the same room.” Jungkook huffed as he took his seat next to Yoongi who gave him a glare, “Oh, come on. You cannot seriously be mad at me?” He flashed his doe eyes to the man and fluttered his lashes.

Jimin clicked his tongue, “That’s not seriously going to work, is it?” He whined, “Yoongi never lets me get away with shit from just looking at him.”

“You get away with plenty.” Jin quipped at the fighter.

Yoongi ignored the commotion as his hands brushed Jungkook’s hair out of the way to look at the stitches, “Who did those, baby?” His voice was soft but with the way the youngest man shrunk, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Well, I guess I’ll just go ahead and give the report of last night’s events.” Namjoon huffed through a bite of bacon, “You want to start, Kook?” He raised a brow.

The man sighed and nodded, “Well, I finished all my work early, like usual.” He began smugly. Jungkook in general was a skilled person, so he didn’t have just one job, but most often he was digging up dirt on people via his computer skills, “Then, I had my regular neighbor dinner.” He smiled at the thought, and Jin noticed Jimin and Taehyung scowling a bit at this. The two were the most jealous of this elusive neighbor, which was odd since even on the seldom occasions the others sought the company of someone else, it never affected any of them. Nowadays, they don’t really go outside of the relationship, but it’s still interesting to see them so jealous, but they kept silent as Jungkook continued, “We watched Jimin win, so then I decided to go out and… celebrate.” His smile turned guilty.

“This close to the anniversary, Kook?” Jin sighed and Yoongi kept deathly quiet.

“I’ll assume that’s where your memory stops?” Hoseok asked and Jungkook nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I then got a call from one of our guys at around three in the morning that some rookie was running his mouth and pissed Kook off.” Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook won the fight even sloshed out of his mind if that’s any consolation.”

“Nice.” Jimin grunts and Taehyung snickers at the glare Yoongi shoots him.

“Then, I drag him all the way here and he collapses at his neighbor’s door, insisting she’ll fix him up.” The CEO continues the story and notes how Hoseok shifts at the mention of this, “What was even weirder is that she did, like it was super normal.”

“It’s not that normal.” Jungkook argued weakly.

“She said it wasn’t uncommon.” Namjoon snapped and Yoong put his head in his hands, “I will also say it was really eerie the way she could just handle how Jungkook gets when she woke up.”

“She’s a nurse, you guys know that.” The man tried to defend.

“A high school nurse.” Taehyhung corrected, causing the hacker to pout, “I doubt she has to restrain her patients regularly.”

“Did I hurt her when I woke up?” Jungkook asked and this made Namjoon falter.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The CEO offers, “What I was getting at is I think Yoongi and Jungkook should do a deeper background check than the initial one we did-”

“No.” Jungkook spat, partly shocking Namjoon at the venom in his voice. The youngest’s face was twisted in distaste at the idea, “You all promised-”

“That was before I saw the way-”

“No!” He shouted, shocking everyone at the table as his eyes began to glisten, “I’ve known her for years now, and she’s never been pushy about what’s going on in my life or why I have six boyfriends she’s never even met and in return, I don’t ask her questions.” Namjoon’s jaw clenched at this. Most of the time if an arrangement was too good to be true, it’s because it was. If he didn’t care so much about Jungkook’s love and trust he wouldn’t have even bothered to bring it up. At times like these, being in love was more frustrating than ever as he listened to Jungkook, “She trusts me and I trust her that way, I don’t want to ruin the only friendship I have outside of us.” His voice cracks at the end, making everyone soften a bit. Jungkook was right. It’s been just them for a long time, and you were the only friend he really had. You weren’t a drinking mate or gambling buddy, you were a friend. And yet, he felt like Namjoon was trying to take that away from him.

“Kook, have you considered she might not ask questions because she’s hiding something herself?” Taehyung gently asked, but it didn’t simmer the hacker’s anger.

“I don’t care if she’s hiding anything.” He snapped, making Jin sigh, “I’m hiding plenty and none of that has stopped us from being close so please, just leave it alone.” He pleaded, but Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, “Hoseok did those couple random shadows of her a few years ago and he saw nothing of concern.” He reminded them, and truthfully, how could any of them have forgotten? The act itself caused one of their worst arguments to date. Originally, Taehyung insisted on Jungkook digging up every piece of information he could about her and giving it to them, which made the youngest even more closed off about his friend. Finally, after days of disagreeing, Hoseok was the only one entrusted with your full name, not that it would’ve been all that hard to find.

The man in question nodded, “It was quite boring actually, but it’s true. Even the phone calls she took were a snoozefest.” He sighed just remembering them, “I’d never seen such a killjoy of a college student before, and I’m sure she’s the same as a nurse.” Granted, Hoseok’s specialty was not in surveillance, but Taehyung and Jungkook were too biased in opposite ways to do the shadowing, and the chemist was the only one with the extra time to do it.

Jungkook nodded, “She really does just go to work and home.” He mumbled ruefully, “Plus, even if she’s someone else or whatever, at the end of the day, she saves me a hospital trip and hasn’t said anything to anyone, evidently.” He added and Namjoon looked to Yoongi who sighed in defeat but nodded.

“Fine, we’ll drop it.” Yoongi finally spoke and Namjoon bristled, “She hasn’t caused any trouble, sounds like a good friend, and is smart enough not to ask any questions. There’s no reason not to trust Jungkook’s judgment.” He explained to the more skeptical men, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin, who simply nodded in defeat before turning to the youngest, “Just, be more careful, okay?” He looked to the younger man who nodded before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “It was pretty risky bringing Namjoon there, even if accidentally. If she does know anything, she could’ve recognized him as the head of Bangtan Corp and unraveled quite a bit.” He said and Jungkook nodded. Even though he doubted you even knew an underground existed, let alone that Bangtan was running it, he understood Yoongi being weary, “Let’s enjoy our breakfast together, yeah?”

They all nodded before falling into their regular lull. No matter how much time they spent apart for work, it was easy for them to get together like no time had passed. The seven of them had been dating for a couple of years now, and though the relationship was loving, it was by no means perfect, that much was obvious. The organization had risen to its height because of their ability to work through those hardships together, but with the rise of their syndicate came less time for one another. This paired with secrets and disagreements that were littered throughout the relationship made for a good chunk of tension when work was exceptionally stressful, like during the anniversary. This was why the relationship was open, but Jungkook was the only one with a consistent connection outside of them, which was most likely why it ruffled some of their feathers.

“Now, I’m told Taehyung and Jimin have some good news?” Namjoon brings up and the two men in question grin at each other, and he can tell they’re silently deciding who should be the one to say it.

“We found a certain little weasel last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Found and captured.” Jimin added, and the two didn’t need to elaborate for the other men to know what they meant.

Yoongi smirked, sadism written along his features as he caught Namjoon’s eyes, “We’ve got an exciting day ahead of us.”

—

Your eyes cracked open slowly as you hissed when sunlight invaded your pupils. You squinted, not sure how you forgot to fully close the blinds, especially during the anniversary week, but you let it go. Work had been especially a nightmare with the beginning of a new term, and the blinds were just barely cracked, not enough for anyone to peak in much but certainly enough for the sun to wreak havoc on you. You stretched your arms forward, taking in a deep breath before craning your neck to look at the time, 10:24 am, nice. You actually managed to get a good amount of sleep even with the chaos at your door last night.

Your sleepy eyes landed on the shallow cut on your forearm beneath the wrapping you put on it. It looked a lot like a cat scratch, which you were thankful for. The last thing you needed was any nosy colleagues or students asking too many questions. Telling people you got the wound from having to tackle your only friend was less than ideal. You snorted to yourself. Truly, you should have more questions or concerns with Jungkook, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You spend the entire first two years of your friendship insanely weary, and you already spend your time like that with everyone else. It was nice to have someone you didn’t need to constantly be on guard from. Your fingertips ran over the bandage, hoping that you had made the right choice, but even then, it was far too late to change anything now.

You liked Jungkook more than you cared to admit, even to yourself, so when you heard his telltale knocking on your door in the middle of your morning cable surfing, you didn’t even bother to turn off the TV before going to the door. You rolled your neck before opening the door with a bored expression when Jungkook’s wide eyes met yours, “Morning, sport.” You drawled, leaning against your door frame.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook took notice of the bandage on your forearm, “Did I do that?” He asked worriedly.

You shrugged, looking away from him, “If you think about it, the needle is technically the culprit–”

“Y/n, I’m serious.” He pleaded, making you straighten up, but your gaze stayed fixed elsewhere, “Look at me, please.” He spoke, and you cursed yourself for obeying. You were accustomed to following orders, and something about the way Jungkook bothered to say please made it that much easier to listen to him, but you could only hope he didn’t realize this. “Did I hurt you?” His gaze burned you, and it made you hate his need for eye contact at times like these.

You sighed, examining the guilt on his face. The look made you feel like an asshole even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t like this part of your friendship. The serious, gravelly talks about what he did last night or about whatever breakdown of yours he happened to witness. The care in his eyes was suffocating, but addicting all the same. It made you feel self-conscious about your lack of clothing, but you were sure not even a parka wouldn’t make you feel any less vulnerable. The honesty in his eyes curled around you like smoke that you had no choice but to inhale and exhale right back to him. Flat-out lying to Jungkook has seldom been an option, especially about things like this, “Fine, when you woke up you were panicked and somehow made my hand slip and caused the needle I was working with to give me a little scratch.” You explained, eyes begging to avoid his again.

“That’s a big bandage for a little scratch.” He observed skeptically and you slipped your arms behind your back. He sighed, “I’m sorr–”

You shook your head. Much like actual birthday gifts, apologies had been foreign to you before Jungkook, and you didn’t like to nor know how to accept them, “I promise, it’s no deeper than a paper cut.” You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression now unreadable, which was somehow worse than the guilt.

He raised a brow, utterly unconvinced, “Let me see.” He wasn’t asking or pleading this time, but you didn’t have it in you to go against him.

You rolled your eyes, “Only because it’s about time to take it off anyway.” You huffed, only partially lying. It was time to let the wound air out a bit, but you both knew it wasn’t the only reason. You had spent most of your life taking in and thriving on the fear, guilt, and despair of others people. You loved the taste of the power you wielded, but nothing was more sour on your tongue than Jungkook’s dim mood. You turned around, peeling off the medical tape and walking to your counter as you heard your door close. Throwing the dressing in the trash, you looked at the wound with a nod before spinning to face the man approaching you, “See? It’s nothing.” You presented the thin line of scabs to him. He studied it, face still unreadable that was, until you flinched when his hand darted out to hold your wrist. The horror in his eyes made you feel physically ill as he went to withdraw, but you panicked and moved to hold his hand there, “Come on, you know it’s not because of you.” You reasoned, voice barely above a whisper.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded solemnly. The question of who it was burned his tongue as he pressed his mouth closed. He’d seen more than enough of your episodes to know that you had plenty of reasons to flinch and he had to swallow the urge to find every single reason and end them with his bare hands. Horrible things happened to you, and he wasn’t sure if not knowing was worse than what would become of him if he ever found out. He diverted his gaze back to the scratch, and you wanted to ask him what he was doing until he leaned down. Your breathing ceased as you watched his lips brush lightly over the wound in the form of the softest kiss he’d ever given you, “There, all better.” His joking tone was strained with his smile when he stood straight again, but you appreciated the effort.

His chest felt a bit lighter when you smiled softly, “What a hero.” You deadpanned.

The reality was that Jungkook wanted to rip the door off its hinges, he was so pissed off at himself. Plus with that door gone, there’d be just a bit less between the two of you, and he needed to ignore why that sounded so sickeningly sweet. Regardless, he knew you hated moments like these, moments where the air was still but heavy with a million unspoken words between you two, so he felt compelled to throw out a light comment since he couldn’t outright comfort you that often, “I’ll be more careful, I promise. I’ve just been so…”

You nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, this week is pretty rough for me too.” You sighed, staring at the way his thumb absent-mindedly rubbed along your skin. The affection created a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t explain, but you promised yourself it was just how friends felt for each other sometimes.

“Hey, I think you’ve been doing pretty good lately.” He chided softly, and a mix of embarrassment and pride filled you at his words, “I haven’t slept with you in weeks now.” He pointed out, and the fake pout on his lips made you chuckle, mind still partially lost in the way his thumb stroked your arm.

You knew he was just trying to lighten the reminder of how your screams would wake him up some nights. On those nights, Jungkook would all but break down your door in an effort to sleep next to you. It was weird for you, even still, sleeping next to someone. It brought out feelings in you that you didn’t want to deal with, so you did your best to make Jungkook’s presence in your bedroom as rare as possible, “Miss me?” You asked sarcastically, still so lost in his ministrations. Affection is something you’d only ever gotten from the man in front of you, so it was hard to tell if it would feel this nice from anyone else.

“All the time.” He responded quickly and with so much sincerity it made your chest seize for a moment. Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking his eye contact with you for just a moment, “I hope Namjoon wasn’t a dick to you.” He spoke, snapping you out of your trance with his touch as you retracted your arm, almost deluding yourself into thinking he tried to hold onto you for a split second.

“He was just being protective of his baby.” You snickered at how Jungkook bristled with the term, “A protective dick, but I get it. I’m a total stranger–”

“Hey, you’re my best friend.” He chided, with a smile that was a bit less strained than before.

You scoffed, “I’m your only friend.”

He shrugged with a more amused grin, “I said what I said.”

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway did you only come to–” You were cut off by your phone buzzing on the table.

Both you and Jungkook knitted your brows at this. It was degradingly rare for anyone other than him or work to call you, “You cheating on me?” He playfully asked and you pushed him by the shoulder before going to answer the call.

You picked up the device cautiously, “It’s a random number.” You said lightly, but something felt wrong. “Don’t tell me I’m about to get a ton of prank calls because I pissed one of your boyfriends off?” You tried to joke as the phone finally went to voicemail.

Jungkook snorted at this, “Yeah, Joonie’s not the prank call type.”

“No way? He seemed like a real court jester.” You sarcastically said, making your friend laugh more.

“A+ on the tone, B+ for the reference.” He chuckled, and you beamed at this. Jungkook spent the first two years of your friendship helping you grasp the ins and outs of day-to-day interactions, so it was nice to see how far you’ve come. “I haven’t heard the term ‘court jester’ so casually, like, ever, but it gets points for creativity.”

“You know me, I’m a real artist- ugh, again?” You looked down at your phone as it buzzed again with the same number.

“Just answer, maybe it’s important.” He reasoned, and you nodded but the idea made you feel sick, “Oh, but put it on speaker I wanna hear if it is a prank call.” He grinned

Pushing the feeling of unease down, you rolled your eyes and answered, putting it on speaker, “Hello–”

“Y/n! Y-You gotta get me out of here, I’m–” Ice water flooded your veins as the man’s voice invaded your senses. Your eyes bulged once you fully realized Jungkook was standing right there, hearing this god-forsaken voice and you gasped before taking it off speaker.

“Who is this?” You seethed, lying to everyone in the room. You’d know that whiny voice anywhere. Goosebumps sprouted along your arms and your stomach churned as your uncle's shaky breathing entered your mind, “How did you get my number?” You demanded quietly as you turned from Jungkook and put some distance between you both.

“Y/n, they found me and I’m–” He coughed and your eye twitched, pathetic.

“Lose my number.” You ordered, moving to hang up.

“I’ll tell them!” He shouted, making you pause. You didn’t even know who “they” were, but you certainly didn’t care to find out, “I’ll tell them who you are, where you are–”

“You don’t know that.” You called his bluff, but fear soaked into your rage, dampening its strengthening effects on your body. You could feel yourself getting smaller with each millisecond of silence that followed.

“I have your number.” He challenged, and you scoffed. That was undoubtedly all he had. Jungyoon had never been built for the mind games, he was the muscle and nothing else, through and through.

“Won’t be mine for much longer, I promise.” You fumed quietly, and the whimper that leaked from him told you that was all the leverage he had, or at least you hoped so, “I’m not the one who was on national fucking TV just so I could watch a stupid fight, so you dug your grave. Don’t pass me the shovel.”

“Wh-How can you even say that I’m–” He tried desperately.

“You must have the wrong number if you’re planning on finishing that sentence.” You forced out before hanging up. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your phone on the couch.

Byungjoo was caught. If he was caught that meant you weren’t safe anymore. Were you ever really safe? Why did you stay in the country? What were you thinking? Did you seriously think Byungyeol would come back from you? Did you seriously stay in the same place he lost you like a child? And now what? You were dead, utterly dead–

No. You were safe. You had to be. You never went anywhere, and your face was never known by the public or that many people in the organization. You were smart, you had–

“Y/n, hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the radio static that heightened the panic in your head.

You looked at him, eyes wild but in a state he’s seen before, “I-It…” The words died in your throat as panic held you in a vice grip. Your nails dug into your palm, and the pain did nothing to satiate you as your knees buckled. Jungkook caught you before you could hit the ground, and you almost wished he hadn’t. You’d give anything to feel the pain radiating up your leg, the linoleum against your palms, anything to remind you that you were in your home and not wherever the hell the people who took Byungjoo planned to take you. You steadied yourself, the haze of panic subsiding momentarily, “I’m okay.” You lied, placing your hand on the couch so you could stand on your own.

“Who the hell was that and why–” You cut Jungkook off with a look, a look you’ve both used on each other, a look that begged him not to pry so you don’t have to lie to him, “I just… I’m worried.”

“Don’t be worried.” It came off as more of a plea than reassurance, and you cringed.

Jungkook wet his dry lips as he looked you over. You were talking, but you still had that look in your eyes that promised you wouldn’t be able to for much longer. His chest ached as he watched you try to crush the panic down and put on a brave face for him. More than anything, he wanted to cup your cheeks and promise you it was okay, and if it wasn’t, it will be. He wanted to fix it so badly, do anything to ensure that you weren’t about to break, so against his better judgment, he spoke, “I heard you say something about seeing him on TV, was it that guy from work–”

“Yes.” You said too quickly, and he tensed, “He’s… uh, just unhinged, and it just unsteadied me a bit.” You nodded, the fib burning your tongue, “I guess the principal saw him last night and he got in trouble…” You sighed, it was exhausting to do this, and you didn’t want to have to do this at all, “I don’t know it just…” You simply couldn’t do it. You couldn’t force any more lies out, you didn’t have it in you to do much other than clasp your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut.

Everything you’d built for yourself flashed in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. In an instant, it could be taken away, and there’s nothing you could really do about it. You weren’t nearly as lethal as you used to be, and judging by the little you’ve heard about the heads of Bangtan, you’re training would pale in comparison to their abilities. It took them no more than a year to dethrone your father, and you had no doubt it would take them no more than a second to end your life. Now, it was no longer a matter of if, but when they were going to catch up to you.

—

Disgust infiltrated your sorrow as you watched Byunjoo smile lovingly while his wife, Minji, explained how your deaths would go with a little too much “pep in her step” as she would say to you when you were reporting the gruesome details of a job. She was disgusted with you for several reasons, but she was perfectly fine with your father, so it didn’t make sense when he directed just about everything you did. Nevertheless, you sat straight-faced as you heard the plan. Although you weren’t sure what she or your uncle was so proud of, the plan was quite simple.

You were to burn it all. You were to watch the house you grew up in, the house where you took your first steps, said your first words, and had your first kill, crumble to smithereens with the empire you were supposed to inherit. Something, though, was missing. The list of names of the people who would live to watch the ash and smoke was noticeably… short.

“...Now we will have to get rid of everyone who knows your face, y/n-” Minji explained, that sickening smile on her hot pink lips but the disgust she held for you never left her eyes. You weren’t sure what you did to make her hate you so much, but you hardly cared now that you hated her just as fiercely.

“No.” You immediately spoke, and you could see your father stiffen in the corner of your eye, but you only broke your stare with your aunt when you heard Byungjoo sigh.

He and Minji were the only two that didn’t completely crumble under your unwavering stare, and it was times like these that it irritated you. Byungjoo was the right-hand man to your father, and he was a ruthless man. He loved nothing but money and his treacherous wife, even hated everything but money and his equally soulless wife. One exception, however, was your father, and he only claimed to love you because your father did.

“Y/n, it's for your safety.” Byungjoo explained as if you were a child, as if he spoke to you with any kind of decorum when you were a child, as if you were so easy to pacify when it came to the slaughter of the staff in this house that raised you.

“If you do it, I will throw myself into the fire,” You seethed and Byungjoo chuckled, assuming it was a joke. He always did that. Took your defiance of him as a silly comment or you being a rebellious teen, regardless of the fact that you were about to be 19 and never respected him enough to consider your disagreements rebellions, “I swear on the blood of my father, I will die with those people,” Byungjoo ceased his giggles immediately.

Your father, however, took your death threats seriously off the bat. Byungyeol was not stupid enough to take the little words you spoke as anything other than what you meant. He was the one who taught you not to waste your breath, after all. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if your death would make a difference, but there was that glint in your father’s eyes still that told you he just might care. His dying pride remained intact barely and you, his only child, were his only legacy, a legacy that needed to live on.

Byungjoo may have been a bumbling idiot, but he could see the resolve in his brother's eyes. Minji had no such tact as she clicked her tongue in distaste, “Y/n-”

“Let it go.” Your father’s voice sounded, startling the couple silent while maintaining sharp eye contact with you, waiting for your gaze to waver even slightly. When you remained headstrong he sighed, “Make the list of who lives, y/n, and they will.” He spoke with a finality you’ve heard countless times before turning to your aunt and uncle, “End of discussion.”

—

You should’ve done it. You should’ve opted to burn. Regret pooled into your senses until it was all you could feel, until the only thing you could see was that beckoning flame, calling your name to come home.

Just as you could feel the sting of tears behind your lids, you felt him. Two hands slid over yours and rhythmic tapping reverberated throughout your skull from above your ear. You slowly opened your eyes, and Jungkook occupied your line of sight. He did you the grace of looking away. You weren’t sure if it was because of the shameful sight in front of you or if it was because he knew you were embarrassed, but you liked to pretend it was the latter.

1, 2, 3, 4

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he listened for your breathing to stabilize. He looked above your head at the clock on the wall and sighed. He was going to be late for his meeting with his team on digging up the whereabouts of the most coveted target. He could easily walk away, but he stayed rooted in his spot, tapping in quartets as he waited patiently for you to calm down. Though he didn’t understand your affinity for the number, and you never disclosed it to him, he was thankful to be observant enough to notice it at times like these. So he watched the seconds tick by as he tapped, pausing for a few seconds in between each grouping, because the thought of leaving you alone like this felt like it would kill him. He already has a hard time sleeping knowing you’re just a few steps away, there’s no way he’d be able to work knowing you were in the throes of an episode. Finally, your breathing was becoming consistently normal until–

“No.” You whispered with something utterly sick to his ears laced in the word. It was fear. You were scared, and he had no idea why. Never in your years of friendship had he seen you truly afraid like this. He looked at you, boundaries be damned, and saw you were fixated on the TV.

Turning his head to see what it was, his entire body froze.

You had left the news on, and on it, Namjoon stared back at you as he conducted a press conference… as head of Bangtan Corporation. It was like your world ceased turning. The pressurized cracks on your life here gave in the moment you looked to Jungkook and realized he saw what frightened you, and you could see the wheels turning on why it could be. No poker faces could be had between you as despair reflected in both of your pupils. You were terrified to discover one of his boyfriends was the head, or at least one of the heads of Bangtan, and he was devastated to find out you knew enough to be afraid.

It was over, for both of you.

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Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

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hollyhomburg · 7 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears.

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips.

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-"

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt.

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this?

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder.

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now.

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back.

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning.

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up.

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

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Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

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Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

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