#jungkook assassin au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ugh-yoongi · 2 months

Text

the very last thing i decide | pjm

(or, the one in which a love exists that's easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.)

✘ PAIRING jimin x f. reader ✘ SUMMARY you learn what it means to love with blood on your hands. ✘ GENRE hitman/assassin au; angst, smut ✘ RATING explicit. minors dni. ✘ WARNINGS they are both hitmen (hitpeople?) so there's all the content that goes along with that: violence, death, mentions of blood (a lot) and weapons, murder, but no explicit gore. everyone is morally grey at best and downright psychotic at worst (especially yoongi). reader gets stabbed. no one knows how to be a functional human being. swearing, smoking, light smut (penetrative & oral sex), miscommunication and unrequited love but not really, i drop a classic tumblr meme in a line of dialogue. ambiguous/hopeful ending!! some of the themes here are kinda heavy and i am not entirely sure how to tag them so if you have any questions pls don’t hesitate to ask! ✘ WORDCOUNT 12k ✘ LISTEN TO manchester orchestra - telepath ✘ THANK YOU i cannot remember everyone i’ve showed this to over the years. @the-boy-meets-evil for looking this over and brainstorming with me today. @hot-soop for always being a help. @effortandmore because you told me an embarrassingly long time ago this was worth finishing. and i’m pretty sure i also sent this to @jihopesjoint at some point too. i did a quick edit of this on my own, but after nearly three years i just wanted it posted and out of my wips so i'm sure i missed things. pls ignore them. ✘ AUTHOR'S NOTE fic drops two days in a row?? who am i?? i started this in may 2021 and it was supposed to be a simple pegging fic. i abandoned it bc i was convinced no one would want to read it. between today and yesterday i have written thousands of words and made it across the finish line. i hope you like it. the violence is a metaphor for love or whatever.

[37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA]

Jimin’s hair had been red the first time he met you.

How fitting, he thinks, considering he’s currently bleeding out on a table.

Well, there’s still a bit of fight left in him. He hasn’t lost consciousness yet, which he assumes is a good sign; he can still hear Hoseok barking out orders quite clearly. The edges of his vision are fuzzy and the pain in his abdomen is sharp and unrelenting, but he still has enough brain power left to wish he’d died instead.

Because you’d saved his life. And now he’s further indebted to you.

(Jimin never leaves a debt unpaid, but he’s not sure how to make even on something like this.)

Jungkook and Taehyung are fetching supplies faster than Hoseok can ask for them. Two pairs of frazzled, spaced-out eyes. Four sets of trembling limbs. Namjoon’s wearing burn marks into the floor, his cuticles bloody and nearly worried to the bone since he can’t keep them out of his mouth.

And then there’s you.

Sitting cross-legged in a chair as you scroll through your phone. Jimin’s blood is still drying on your hands, leaving smears as you drag your thumb back and forth across the screen, and this doesn’t seem to faze you one bit.

Behind you, Yoongi takes a seat at the piano and starts playing Toccata and Fugue in D minor, and Jimin simply cannot die like this. He can’t die on a wooden table in a room with a piano on which Min Yoongi is playing Baroque organ pieces.

“What is this, a fucking funeral?” Hoseok snaps, though there’s a desperation creeping into his tone that Jimin does not like, does not want to hear. “Cut it out, Yoongi.”

Said man staunchly ignores the doctor, transitioning flawlessly into the fugue. Jimin barely hears the tinkle of your laughter but he hears it all the same, and he wants to pretend it doesn’t calm him, bring him back down to earth when he starts drifting too far away. But you do, and it does, and all he can think about is: will you miss him if he dies? Will it take you long to wash his blood from your hands?

Hoseok’s absolutely incensed, pushed to the limits of his stress at the thought of not being able to save Jimin’s life, and Jimin appreciates this, really, but not when Hoseok pushes two gloved fingers deep into the wound in his stomach so hard all he can do is cry. “Yoongi—”

You snort. You don’t even look up from your phone.

Namjoon, for all his leadership and stoicism and poise under pressure, is just as frantic and panicked as the rest. It’s not everyday one of his people is inches from death ten feet away from him. Most people usually die in the shadows. Kim Namjoon has faced down death more times than most, yet watching the life slowly fade from Jimin’s eyes is too much even for him. “Yoongi, please—”

But the fugue keeps going, tempo change after tempo change, the two pillars of this organization spiraling completely by the time the coda starts, unfocused and sweating and praying. To gods they don’t believe in, to hope, to chance—whatever and whoever might be listening. Jimin usually loves hearing Yoongi play. It’s the only thing that humanizes him, and Jimin had spent so many restless nights shoulder to shoulder with him on that exact bench in the blue hours of the early morning, hypnotized by the way the older man’s knobby fingers moved across the keys.

This is it, he thinks.

Jimin’s going to die with Toccata and Fugue in D minor playing in the background.

He’s imagined his death so many times. Stupid not to in this line of work. Violent, quick and painless, in his sleep, drawn out and gory, a message. And in all of those scenarios, it’s either jarringly silent or there’s someone screaming. Usually him, sounding much like he is now, two fingers stuck in his gut. In all of those scenarios, Min Yoongi is never playing Bach as everything fades to black.

You sigh. “Shut the fuck up, Yoongi,” you say, your tone as blasé and inconvenienced as ever.

Shocked at your audacity, one of Yoongi’s fingers slips and hits the wrong key, something dissonant and metallic as it rings out. But the music stops all the same, the silence nearly giving Jimin whiplash. Now he can hear the clinkof Hoseok’s tools, the squelching of his wound, Jungkook’s desperate pleading for him to just be alright, please God, just hang on. He wants the music back. He doesn’t want Jungkook’s crying to be the last thing he hears. Doesn’t want the sound of his own organs imprinted into his memory.

“What’d you say?” Yoongi asks, because no one talks to him that way. They wouldn’t dare. Most people try not to talk to him at all.

But you do.

And, inexplicably, Yoongi listens.

You roll your eyes. “You go deaf in your old age? I said shut the fuck up. Hoseok’s two knuckles deep in Jimin’s fucking stomach and you’re over there having your little Amadeus moment.”

He bristles. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Yoongi repeats, and Jimin can’t see him, but he knows his eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl, fists clenched at his side.

“Oh, princess,” you coo, and Yoongi’s fury is palpable, permeates every inch of this place, overrides all the fear and anguish. “I’m talking to you, baby. I know Jiminie’s busy trying not to die and that’s stressful for all of us, but please do try to keep up.”

Jimin hears the flick of Yoongi’s switchblade. Then he hears him say, “Please let me fucking kill her,” in that lazy Daegu drawl of his, like forming full words are beneath him. Not worth the effort when they’re directed at you.

Still seated, you uncross your legs and, through blurred vision, Jimin watches you grab Yoongi by his belt loops to tug him closer, grab the wrist that holds his knife and press it to your own throat. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Yoongi. Be a good boy and make it hurt.”

Jungkook’s near hysterics at Jimin’s side. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? He’s dying!”

Jimin tries to say I’m not, Kookie, I’m okay but the pressure on his abdomen is too intense. He can barely breathe, and Hoseok’s still digging around, still looking for that stupid fucking bullet, had to do something and do it quick so there’d been very little anesthetic and finesse, and he’s silently screaming for someone to just comfort Jungkook, tell him everything’s going to be okay, but instead—

“Serves him right for being a fucking idiot,” you say, words muffled by the knife still pressed to your throat. “What a painful, permanentlesson in not forgetting your fucking vest.”

“Stop it!” Jungkook sobs, fingers ghosting along Jimin’s matted fringe.

Yoongi’s still scowling. “Just say the word, Joon-ah. I’ll make it quick.”

You actually laugh at that. The kind of full-belly laugh Jimin would kill to be able to produce. “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Someone snarls. Probably Yoongi. “You’d look so good gutted on the floor like a fish,” he replies, and if Jimin knows him at all, he knows he’s got that dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. The one he always gets when he’s about to kill—the one that makes him so unhinged and dangerous. “Left there to bleed out and die all alone like the trash you are.”

No one’s survived that look before, but you just grin, as if being on the receiving end of it is nothing more than another simple inconvenience. “Do it, then,” you prompt. “You’re so big and bad, yet here you are, waiting for Namjoon’s permission like some kind of pathetic fucking dog.”

“I’m no one’s dog.”

Your eyes slowly flick over to Namjoon. “No?” you ask, smile widening as Jimin watches you drag your heeled foot up the inside of Yoongi’s calf, his thigh, stiletto coming to rest in the center of his sternum. “That’s a shame, princess. That pretty neck of yours was just made for a collar.”

There’s no doubt in Jimin’s mind now that he actually died back in that penthouse and is now residing in whatever level of hell is watching you give his associate a semi despite him being a millisecond away from murdering you.

Yoongi would do it, too. No hesitation. You’ve been on his shit list for as long as Jimin can remember, and you’ve been daring him to put his money where his mouth is and just kill you already for just as long.

Taehyung groans. “Can you two just fuck already so the rest of us can be spared of this?”

You click your tongue, tone melting like butter. You’re fond of Taehyung, soft on him. “No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie, and god does that hurt his little feelings.”

Your wicked smile gives away nothing—whether you’re telling a bold truth or just unnecessarily needling Yoongi further—but Jimin’s caught off guard and chokes on your words nonetheless.

Hoseok’s forceps still digging around in his stomach, there’s a quiet hurrah of triumph as he finally locates the bullet. Jimin feels nothing as he retrieves it and plucks it out, a reverberated clank! as he drops it into a kidney dish, your words the anesthetic he’s needed as they play on a loop in his head.

When he finally blacks out, either from the pain or the adrenaline or both, it’s your face that greets him. He never gets the chance to tell you why he forgot his vest.

[64.1466° N, 21.9426° W | Reykjavík, ICELAND]

Jimin’s hair is blue when it happens the first time.

It’s November. Namjoon has sent the two of you to Reykjavik and it’s dark all the time, the midnight hue of his hair blending into the impenetrable nighttime that surrounds you. Jimin works best like this—out of sight, part of the shadows. He’s light on his feet, lithe in ways no one else is, not even you, and he’s impossible to anticipate under the cover of darkness.

That’s why Jimin always takes care of the appetizers.

It’s your job to clean up the main course.

The two of you are two halves of the same lethal coin, working together flawlessly after years of carefully honed practice. Jimin slams an unsuspecting man’s head into a wall and you’re right behind him to put a bullet in it.

It’s just how it goes.

And he trusts you. He has to, otherwise he would’ve gotten taken out years ago. You’re not always in his line of sight, but he always feels you, senses your movements before you’re even on your feet. The times it’s gone wrong—and it’s gone wrong so many fucking times, despite how cautious and skilled the two of you are—you’re always right there to catch him before he even hits the ground. Just like a ghost, as if your only purpose in life is keeping Jimin safe and alive.

(It isn’t, but it sure feels that way.)

Tonight it’s another hit carried out in an overpriced penthouse overlooking the northern shore. You’re in and out, don’t waste a second more than you need to. Jimin doesn’t spare a glance at the carnage left behind. Nothing he hasn’t seen a hundred times before. All blood bleeds the same, but he still wonders, foolishly, if his looks different to you. If it feels wrong when it stains your hands and seeps into your clothes.

Jimin has never been covered in your blood before, but he likes to think it would.

The two of you don’t speak until you’re in the quiet safety of yet another hotel room, chain lock thrown across the door, deadbolt secured. A small arsenal of weapons is retrieved from ankles and waistbands and cleaned and packed away meticulously. Jimin’s the one who makes the call to Namjoon, tells him in code that the job’s done. You’ve barely broken a sweat, but under the fluorescent light of the bathroom, Jimin can see a small smattering of blood just along your temple when he closes the distance between you.

Someone else’s, of course.

Anyone who made you bleed your own blood wouldn’t be a quick, clean kill. Jimin would make sure of that.

There’s less to be done about the half-inch scar in the hollow of your throat—a pearlescent reminder of the twin scar he has just below his navel; a callback to the day your devilish mouth said the words Jimin can’t stop thinking about.

“No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie.”

Maybe it’s stupidity. Maybe it’s the feral, years-long build up that’s been simmering between the two of you—low enough to keep warm, contained enough to never evolve into a rapid boil. Maybe Jimin’s just finally desperate enough to go seeking out answers to questions he’s far too scared to put a voice to.

(Really, Jimin knows it’s adrenaline. Nothing more than chemicals. The two of you high on it, heads floating above the clouds. Powerless; or, at the very least, indifferent to stop the very clear path that’s unfolding on the ground below.)

But, god, he needs to know.

Needs answers.

Needs to know if there’s even a chance you feel it, too: the magnetic ebb and flow the two of you have been dancing around for years. If you see how fondly he looks at you. If you have any idea how easy it is for him to get lost in you. If you know he’d let someone put a bullet between his eyes before he placed his life in the hands of anyone else.

Jimin knows he loves you. He’s known it for a long time, just like he knows all those other things that are second nature to him. Loving you is easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.

At least that’s what he’d thought. Until your devilish mouth said those devilish words and sent him into a tailspin he’s yet to recover from.

You have to feel it. God, can’t you? The way the air crackles between you. The way his skin ignites with a simple look from you. The trembling of his fingers at his sides, desperate to just reach out and touch you—fingers that have been bathed in blood, that have taken life. Fingers that now just want to graze softly across your cheekbones, catch on your bottom lip. Fingers that want to hand you the world on a silver platter. Jimin would do anything for you, give you whatever you wanted. You wouldn’t even have to ask.

Can’t you feel that?

He needs to know.

Jimin is composed, elegant. He kills with grace and still maintains as much of his softness as he can. Isn’t ruled by emotion the way Yoongi and Jungkook are. But now, as he teeters on the edge of the unknown, all he wants to do is jump. Wants to buck all his training, all his resolve and forethought, and jump.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, voice thick. Fingers curl into the expensive silk of his shirt just so they have something to do—something to keep them from reaching out and touching you. “Back in Seoul.”

You’re the smartest person Jimin knows. When you ask, “Did I mean what, Chim?” he knows you’re fucking with him. Dragging this out. You know exactly what he’s asking and he knows you’ll never give anything away so easily.

“What you said to Taehyung,” he answers.

You tsk, eyebrows raising in intrigue. As much as Jimin trusts you, as well as you know him, know all those dirty, dirty secrets he’d never tell anyone else, he’s never been so bold with you. “That those long fingers of his would look good wrapped around my throat? Yeah, I meant that.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches at your taunt. “Don’t play games with me.”

A smirk graces your lips. “Trust me, sweetheart,” you say, voice sickly-sweet as the affection starts popping at the last seams holding him together, “if I wanted to play with you, there’s nothing you could do to stop it.”

With Jimin pressed into the wall behind you, you turn to meet his eye in the mirror. Another smile, teeth bared as you run your tongue across your lips, and this one is his undoing. Makes his cock twitch in his dress pants. Makes him bold. “Do you want to, then?” He takes a step forward—close enough to smell the gunpowder stuck to your clothes, your hair. Close enough for the sulfur and metal to sting his nostrils each time he breathes you in. “Do you want to play with me?”

You love Jimin. Maybe it’s a trauma bond or the implicit, unwavering trust the two of you have in one another, but you know you love him limitlessly. But you also know you can’t love him the way he loves you, the way he deserves to be loved by someone, which is why your mask slips as you say, “I can’t give you what you want, Jimin.”

You try to make him understand that. Really, you do—because Jimin is the smartest person you know, and you know he’s thought about every possible consequence down to the most minute detail and has decided this is worth it anyway. You want to believe in something the way Jimin believes in you, even though he’s wrong. You want something worth throwing all of this away for.

Maybe it’s Jimin, maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just been so fucking long since someone has looked at you with any gentleness in their eyes at all that when Jimin meets your gaze and says, “I don’t want anything more than you’re willing to give,” you take his hand and jump, too.

And there’s nothing gentle about the first time.

It’s all raw, urgent need, Jimin trying desperately to convince himself it’s more than it is while you convince yourself it’s less.

It’s the two of you finally giving up and giving in, letting yourselves be pulled taut by that invisible string tying you together.

It’s Jimin’s sharp intake of breath when you fully step out of your clothes, the sight rendering him immobile. Whatever plans he’d had before seeing the curves of your body, all the scars from years of working by his side, the mottled yellow-greens and purples from the bruises lining your skin—he has no plans now. Can barely think. Wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from you with a gun to his head.

It’s the final bricks of the wall he’d built around himself—around his heart, around all those words and feelings he’d never put a voice to—crumbling into ash at his feet. Now he knows he can’t go back. Can’t return to a reality where this isn’t his truth. Where there’s no you and him, him and you. Where it’s just a physical exchange, a give-and-take, tit for tat.

And god, he knows he shouldn’t think like this; knows he’s keeping the truth buried somewhere deep behind lock and key.

…But now that he knows how it feels to move inside you, what else is he supposed to do?

You’re everywhere. Clenched around him. Your taste on his tongue. The feel of you on the pads of his fingers. The smell of you making a mockery of all logical thought. No—no, he can’t do a goddamn thing to stop the avalanche now it’s started.

“Fuck,” he whines, fingers digging into your hips. The soft skin he finds purchase in such a contrast from your hardened exterior, but Jimin knows. He knows you, knows the person behind the mask, sees straight through you each time it slips.

What stared back at him had always been just out of reach.

Taunting him.

Screaming come and get me, come make me yours, come and fucking take what you want.

Until now.

Now it’s tangible. Now it’s breathy, fractured moans that echo off tile walls. Now it’s the sound of his name thatleaves your lips like a prayer. Now it’s the sheen of sweat that covers both of you. Now it’s nails scraping down his back, tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

(And Jimin won’t tell you this, but those red welts are proof that this is real, this happened, and later on when he’s alone, when his mind is working overtime, he’ll look at them and he’ll smile. Because they’re real. Because this happened.)

Now, it’s the way blue becomes his favorite color. Because he can see his reflection in the mirror as he unravels and comes to his own demise as he spills inside of you; can see the fluorescent lights reflecting off the hue of his hair.

Jimin’s hair is blue when he realizes he’s in love with you.

[34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA]

Jimin is blond when Namjoon sends you to South America.

The details had been scarce: a diplomatic advisor with a rap sheet of human rights violations that have been continuously swept under the rug and his equally-corrupt lawyer. A candid photograph paperclipped to another manila folder, Namjoon a fan of all those old cliches. Likes being a little cheeky that way when he can get away with it, because god knows he can’t get away with much, doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.

It’s a simple job. You and Jimin will have it dealt with in a matter of hours. Less if you’re lucky and the universe is agreeable. But the humidity sticks to your skin, has sweat seeping into your clothes and rolling down your temples, and if there’s one thing you can’t stand it’s the heat. Makes it hard to think. And Namjoon—Namjoon, who makes sure all of his agents want for nothing—is a cheap bastard. Rarely approves nice lodging, says it’s too risky despite your arguments to the contrary, that people don’t care what you do when you have money, so you’re stuck in some shithole motel room with an aircon unit that keeps blowing out stale, warm air.

And maybe you shouldn’t, maybe you should be more cognizant of Jimin and all his feelings, but it’s fucking hot, so you peel your shirt over your head and undo the button of your pants. Sit on the edge of the bed and try to think about anything other than the temperature, how it’s starting to prick uncomfortably at your skin.

Jimin clears his throat, keeps his eyes glued to the disgusting carpet. “Got a text from Seokjin-ssi,” he says, words strained. “Looks like they’ll be solo jobs.”

You groan. Leave it to Seokjin to change the plan at the last minute. “Tell Kim Seokjin he’s a useless piece of shit.”

“Done. Anything else?”

“Tell Kim Namjoon if he ever sends us to South America in the summer again I’ll kill him myself.”

Jimin has a laugh like an anodyne. A laugh that takes all those broken, bleeding parts of you and soothes over them like a balm. “Seokjin-ssi says he’s not passing along that particular message.”

“Tell him he’s a bitch, then.”

“He’ll kill me if I say that.”

“He hasn’t done field work in years and he’s probably too vitamin D deficient to leave the basement. He couldn’t even kill a fucking rat.”

There’s another laugh. More forced, less tinkling. You recognize it right away, the sound of anxiety. Solo jobs aren’t common for the two of you. For Yoongi and Taehyung, sure, but not you and Jimin. You’re a team for a reason, and though you’re more than capable of getting this done and out of the way, it doesn’t feel right. Settles in your gut like something rotten, knowing you’ll be without Jimin.

And you know he’s thinking it, too. How he turns the burner over and over in his hands, as if there’s some combination of words he can send back to Seoul to get Seokjin and Namjoon to reconsider. Plans don’t change often; not like this, anyway. These have been declared solos for a reason, and that’s a thought you can’t linger on too long.

“Are they leaving it up to us?” Jimin nods, still not meeting your eye. “Do you have a preference?”

He shrugs, tossing the phone on the small table in the corner. Nothing else to be done. “Not really. What do you think?”

“Nah, don’t care, either. Just toss me one.”

Santiago Aguirre… 47 years old… Resides in a high-rise luxury apartment in Retiro…

Your eyes skim the file, study the black and white photograph of the lawyer. Read over the list of all his high-profile, degenerate clients and all their high-profile crimes. You read about the previous attempts on his life, the seemingly never-ending list of people who want him dead. Your eyes go back to his photograph, frowning at the smug look on his face. What stares back at you is a man who thinks he’s invincible, who thinks a penthouse apartment on the top floor and a security team in the lobby means he’s impervious to harm. A man who has made money off people just like him: dirty, corrupt, hands stained red.

“Okay?” Jimin asks, looking up from his own file.

He’s so striking. So safe. And you know what he’s done, giving you the hit he thinks is easier, willing to risk himself on a solo mission to ensure you make it out. There’s no guarantees in this line of work, in life in general, but Jimin’s brand of selfless love is certainly one.

So you just nod, knowing someone slimy like this can quickly go sideways, and decide you can do the same.

“I’m gonna get ready,” you say. “The plan is the same as all the other solo jobs. Get in, get it done, get out as quickly as possible. Lay low. Don’t come straight back here.”

Jimin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Anything else?”

You exhale. Try to quiet the nerves roiling in your stomach. Barely resist the urge to press a lingering kiss to Jimin’s forehead before you swallow hard and say, “Yeah. Stay alive.”

It comes out more like a plea.

—

You’re good at your job.

Rarely feel much guilt over it, either, which—well, you’re not sure what that means. That something is permanently broken in your psyche, probably. Being able to take life so easily and without remorse. It’s not natural.

Kim Namjoon is a man who plays God, is the one who decides who gets to live and who has to die. His word is the only law you adhere to. And that’s… that’s something. Makes it less burdensome, takes some weight off, because Kim Namjoon wouldn’t accept a morally-ambiguous job. He wouldn’t ask you to put your life on the line for some petty bullshit.

This is how you’ve lived for the last four years. Four years of blindly following Namjoon’s word, of being a good little soldier and doing whatever is asked of you. Four years of being responsible for not only your own life, but Jimin’s as well, just as he is for yours. Four years that have served you well, all things considered.

Until now.

Something about this job hits you hard. Doesn’t settle quite as quickly as the ones that have come before. For the first time, you’d looked down at the lifeless body at your feet and couldn’t stop the trembling, could barely quell the nausea. Thought what the fuck am I doing, what kind of life is this for the first time. Thought back to that day four years ago when Kim Namjoon saved your life and offered you a job and wondered, for the first time, what would’ve happened if you’d said no.

Now, as you suck on a cigarette, legs dangling off the roof of a building looking not far from collapse, a new thought:

Would Namjoon let you go if you asked?

He’s taken care of you. For four years you’ve wanted for nothing. Have socked away more money than you’ll ever be able to spend, even if you live to a thousand. You could go anywhere, become anyone, and no one would suspect a thing. There’d just be you and a million lifetimes’ worth of transgressions, alone under the weight of all that burden; alone, except for all the ghosts that come to greet you every time you close your eyes.

Doesn’t matter. Namjoon might be willing to let you go, give you the chance to salvage something from this life in the name of normalcy, but Yoongi would gladly put a bullet in your head before he let you disappear with all his secrets.

Doesn’t matter.

You stub out the cigarette and put the butt in your pocket. Make your way down to the street. Stay under the shadows—just visible enough to redirect any suspicion shot your way. You pretend to take a call, flawless Argentinian Spanish falling from your lips as you tell the imaginary person on the other end all about your fucked up day at work. How your manager never gets off your ass, doesn’t trust you, thinks you’re too fucking stupid to run a simple executable.

No one spares you a second glance.

Not here, on this nondescript street in a nondescript Argentinian neighborhood, and not when you stumble into the tiny lobby of your shithole motel. The poor kid behind the desk doesn’t even glance up, just mutters a good evening, miss under his breath that you return in a voice far too high-pitched to be your own.

Better to be seen and be unremarkable than draw attention to yourself trying to stay invisible, you figure.

The cameras in the stairwell are broken so you take the steps two at a time. Pull the room key from its place inside your boot, happy to no longer have it digging into your skin. Pause just long enough to make sure you don’t hear anything on the other side of the door before you’re unlocking it with your free hand wrapped around the trigger of your gun.

It’s empty.

Of course it is.

Jimin stashed the burner in a place no one but you would think to look. You text one simple word to Seokjin—Hey!—and you get two in return: Who’s this?

You know who it is, you fucking dickhead.

It takes a few seconds, but the reply is a simple—

Sorry.

Then you toss aside the phone and float in the darkness of the room. There’s nothing to do but wait, because you don’t dare to do anything alone. There’s sweat and blood and fuck knows what else stuck to your skin, your hair, but you can’t risk taking a shower. Can’t risk the water dampening your senses. Can’t risk being cornered in a moldy bathroom, only one way out. Can’t risk doing anything alone. Can’t take a fucking shower.

It’s this thought, more than anything else, that has your body flushing with rage.

What kind of life is this?

Namjoon had never mentioned repaying your debt. He’d never insinuated you owed him anything at all for saving your life, but you know something like that never comes for free. Namjoon doesn’t do anything just because. Has no goodness in his heart to do anything in the name of it. Watching Jimin nearly die in front of him had been the exception to his usual nature; a rare slip-up by an otherwise detached, uncaring man.

Still, whatever you owe him has surely been repaid by now. Tenfold, if the bloodstains along your collar are anything to go by.

It’s time for Namjoon to let you go.

—

Something is wrong.

Two hours have ticked by and there’s no word from Jimin. No word from Namjoon or Seokjin, either, which is the only reason you’re still in this nauseating motel room and not out on the streets searching for him. Solo jobs don’t go like this. The two of you are always in and out, tragically efficient. Back to where you started and then back on a plane, nothing left behind except a singular bullet hole and another fragmented piece of your conscience.

You’ve had a lot of jobs go wrong, but never two hours.

You’re about three minutes from coming out of your skin. Sick to your stomach with worry, anxiety weighing you down like an anchor. You wouldn’t be able to go out searching for Jimin like this even if you could, and there’s no point in dwelling on that, examining it further. All you can do is wait.

It’s another hour before you hear the click of the lock. You’re nearly on your knees in relief, but you stay rooted to the flimsy mattress. Try not to think about how you’ll have to sleep on it, even though you’ll be up half the night with residual worry. All those lingering ghosts.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, so neither do you.

[55.6761° N, 12.5683° E | Copenhagen, DENMARK]

Jimin’s hair is orange when you go to Copenhagen.

Not for a job, just to breathe. You wanted to see the city at Christmastime; Jimin’s never been.

You crack a joke. Point out buildings of similar color, have him stand in front of one as you take a picture. Everyone smiles when they pass the two of you on the street, Jimin’s eyes fond even though he rolls them as you pose him how you want. Still stands against an apricot-colored wall and flashes a smile and a peace sign, cheeks pink from the cold. Does a good job of pretending the two of you aren’t here just for fun, that this is something more.

It’s not.

The two of you fucked in a hotel room in Reykjavik and haven’t spoken a word of it since.

You nearly lost your mind over him in Buenos Aires and haven’t spoken a word of that, either.

Instead, his hand finds yours as the two of you walk around Tivoli Gardens. You marvel at the lights and Jimin marvels at you. You share mulled wine and spiced doughnuts. Jimin tries to drag you on the swings but you plant your feet and refuse, laughing through your refusals. As dangerous as your lives are, motion sickness might be the most. He gets his revenge and poses you in front of a giant nutcracker, then again in front of one of the endless Christmas trees.

Jimin pays for the two of you to decorate honey cakes. You’re surrounded by families with shrieking children and palpable adoration, and it’s all you can do not to wonder if anyone you’ve taken out had ever had something like this. Something that makes your soul warm; something that still lingers in your bones years later.

The two of you take a selfie when it starts to snow. It stings when you have no one to send it to, so it just lives in your phone. Maybe it’s enough.

On another day, Jimin holds your hand through Torvehallerne. This time you marvel at him while he marvels at all the food, eyes wide each time he turns to ask if he should buy something. You always say yes and he always shares, and it’s all you can do not to think about why you don’t have to budget yourselves. Why you’re able to walk through the market and buy whatever you want; how you could buy every item for sale and it wouldn’t make a dent.

(You pick up small trinkets for Taehyung and Jungkook. Not because you want to, but because it feels nicer than remembering that you have no one to buy gifts for. Not really. Not anymore.)

Jimin wants to ice skate, so you do. He holds your hand then, too. More out of necessity than anything else, and he has none of his usual grace. Someone hands you a free cup of hot chocolate, just because. Jimin pouts and then it’s his hot chocolate. It’s all you can do not to kiss away the whipped cream on the corner of his mouth.

Back in your lavish hotel, after countless days have blurred together and Jimin’s fresh from a shower, skin flushed, you finally ask yourself if it’s worth putting up such a fight. If it’s really all that bad to care for Jimin and be cared for in return. If it’s all that bad to be someone else, just for a little while: someone with a normal life who makes a normal living and has a normal capability to love. Someone who isn’t damaged beyond repair.

That will never be you. Not fully, and certainly not in this lifetime, but maybe it could be, a little.

“Jimin,” you say, because you need to try. Jimin loves you in ways you’ll never understand, and you want to be better for him. “We should talk.”

Your voice is small and hesitant, and Jimin hates it. Sees trouble where there’s only vulnerability, so he misreads. Shakes his head. Takes a risk and stands between your legs at the edge of the bed—yours, because there’s two—as he tilts your head back, thumbs pressing into the contours of your cheeks. The scar still sits in the hollow of your throat, and that version of you feels so far away. That life feels so far away.

There’s no violence here. There’s no blood, no fugues. There’s just you and Jimin, whose voice is small like yours when he shakes his head and says, “You should kiss me instead.”

The second time is nothing like the first.

Jimin moves delicately. Feels like silk lace, tastes like spun sugar. Moves both his mouth and his body fluidly, no hesitation, yet he still takes his time. Still pauses to look at you with endless devotion; with awed reverence. Makes a map of your body and marks all his favorite places with his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he says. Speaks the words against the skin just beneath your ear. “Anything. I’ll give you whatever you want, just have to ask.”

What you want isn’t tangible, isn’t possible, so you stay quiet. Thread your fingers through Jimin’s hair, gasp when he mouths along the column of your throat. Jimin reserves all his softness for you. Bathes you in it. Would kill anyone to keep it that way.

So you say, “Want your mouth,” and let slip a quiet moan when he gives you what you’ve asked for. When he situates himself between your thighs and sucks and licks until you’re writhing, making a mess, grasping fruitlessly at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, only calming when his hands find yours and your fingers interlock.

Jimin mouths at you until you’re trembling. Until you’re needy and desperate, hips moving on their own, fucking yourself against his face. Until nothing exists except the heat in your belly, the stars behind your eyelids, the heady, fucked-out sound of Jimin’s voice as he talks you through it, murmurs praise against your cunt.

Jimin mouths at you until you forget.

This isn’t your life. This is not something you can have.

But, in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? You’ve made peace with death, and there’s only one of two ways it’s going to come for you in the end: by Namjoon’s hand or someone else’s. So what does it matter?

This time, Jimin fucks you slow. Kisses you with your taste still in his mouth. Thumbs over a hardened nipple just to see what earns him a reaction, and what you truly want is more time—something else that’s impossible.

Jimin’s hair is orange when you think you might be in love with him.

[ 48.8566° N, 2.3522° E | Paris, FRANCE ]

Jimin’s hair is pink when—

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the toilet.

Soaks a washcloth in warm water. Wrings it out. Stands in front of you, and there’s water dripping onto the floor and Jimin doesn’t care, doesn’t seem to see anything in this moment except for you, your hands covered in someone else’s blood, and he reaches out, gently grabs your wrist. Palm up. Someone else’s blood. Everything smells like copper and iron. Looks too surreal beneath the fluorescent lights of this hotel bathroom for your mind to make sense of it.

There is care in the way Jimin cleans your hands. There is tenderness in the way he both refuses to see what you really are and the way he’s the only one to ever see you so entirely, when you look down at the blood he’s washing away and all you can see is stigmata. When all you see is sin.

“I know you don’t love me,” he says, and there is a conviction in his words that stuns you into silence. “Not the way I love you, anyway.”

That tenderness is still there as he says this. As he presses the wet fabric into the meat of your palm, wipes the stains away, and the warmth is as calming as it is undeserved. It feels like something forbidden. It feels like salvation and condemnation all at once, like whatever sick depravity permeates you is contagious, will take over Jimin, too, just from touching you.

Jimin is close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to see the violence that he exists in alongside you: the rips in his clothes, the scars that decorate his skin. Close enough to know he smells sickly-sweet, just like death. Your hand shakes as it reaches for him and never follows through. Doesn’t want to contaminate him.

“I do,” you finally say. Whatever is in your voice is not conviction. “I can’t.” You suck in a breath, try to steady your breathing. This is where it all comes crashing down, you think, because in all the years you’ve done Namjoon’s bidding, you’ve never cried. You can take life so freely and without thought, but you cannot love Jimin. “Someone like me isn’t capable of it.”

Jimin pauses, the washcloth stuck in the space between your ring and middle fingers. “And who is someone like you?”

Water is still dripping to the floor. Serosanguineous: blood tainting something untouched. Not something one thing or another but both, watery-pink. Looks like Jimin’s hair. “I’ve killed a lot of people,” you answer. “More than I can count. More than I can name. More than the ones that come to haunt me at night.” Your free hand moves to your chest, covers your heart. “There’s nothing here, Jimin. I’m not sure there ever was.”

The washcloth drops to the floor, and all that blood belonging to a man whose name you never bothered to learn before you put a bullet between his eyes finds a new place to rest. “I think,” he begins, clasping your unclean hand in his own, voice dropping to a whisper, “you forget, sometimes.” You gasp as he places your palm to his cheek, drags it across his face, smears a stranger’s blood across his skin. “That we’re the same.”

Jimin is always overwhelming, but the love he has for you is even more so. It consumes you entirely, embeds itself beneath your skin, makes a home, would tear you apart, body and soul, to return to him.

[ 47.4979° N, 19.0402° E | Budapest, HUNGARY ]

Jimin’s hair is lavender when it all goes to shit.

“You’re being followed.”

Seokjin’s voice is garbled through the earpiece, tinny and metallic, and you roll your eyes. Some things don’t need to be said, because you’ve known someone was following you for the last three blocks. Average height, black peacoat, close-cropped haircut. Not the kind of person that’d stand out here, and that’s exactly why you’d sent Jimin in the other direction.

“No shit,” you respond in Hungarian, because you already know the man following you doesn’t speak or understand it. “Give me somewhere to go.”

It takes Seokjin a few moments to run the translation. “There’s a side street up on your right,” he answers. “It’s tight, but there’s an alleyway at the end. You can buy some time if you’re quick.”

“Where’s Jimin?”

You pass a vendor selling lángos and duck into the street behind the stall. Just as Seokjin had said, there’s a small alleyway up on the left, and your footfall is near-silent as you break into a sprint to reach it. “Safe,” is all Seokjin says.

You take a second to steady your breathing, knowing you’re good on time—the man following you was close enough to know where you’d turned, but, if you’re lucky, not much after that. That plays on a loop: if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky. What is luck, what does it look like, in a life left entirely to chance? In a life with no guarantees?

You tuck yourself away, focus on Seokjin’s metallic breaths. Think about his basement in Seoul, why he’s in it. Ask, “What happened in Addis Ababa?” because it feels important to know.

There’s not much you know about Seokjin’s life. Whatever happened in Ethiopia had been before your time, reduced to hushed whispers and gossip fodder after your arrival. No one spoke of it, Seokjin especially, but every now and then something would slip in the same way weeds grow in sidewalk cracks.

A job gone wrong. A bombing at the consulate with Seokjin inside.

His reply is simple, words spoken carefully: “I loved someone once, too.”

He can’t see it, but you nod nonetheless; an answer that doesn’t require a response, because you know. It’s enough to fill in the rest. What Seokjin’s trauma looks like. Why he doesn’t do field work anymore. Why he prefers the solitude of the basement, rarely a sound beyond the electric thrum of the server racks.

Who had gone in to retrieve him, and why Yoongi has the scar over his eye.

“You loved someone,” you conclude, “and he would’ve been willing to die for you.”

“Yes,” Seokjin says, and it’s like the word’s been punched out of him. Sounds like something repressed, something left to rot in the darkest corner of the world.

Love, to Seokjin, looks and sounds the same as death.

“I think most people spend their entire lives searching for a love like that,” he continues, and if you could see him you think he might look dazed, off-kilter. You think he might be an avatar. Seokjin is prying his ribcage apart, unwrapping the barbed wire from his heart, saying I once was in love and this is all I know of it. “But, to me, in this life, it’s a prison. Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? How do you—I kissed that skin. I worshiped it. I pressed my lips to it with whatever softness was left in me. How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled?” He exhales, all tremor. “You can’t. You can’t.”

You know this all too well. You know what it feels like to look at Jimin and know, intrinsically and subconsciously, that you wouldn’t even hesitate. You’d take and give life to keep him alive and safe. You know that when you exit this world at someone else’s hand his face is the last thing you want to see.

You know it’s a liability.

You know it’s a target painted on your back. Between your eyes.

You know there’s nothing left to say, that this particular conversation has run its course. The two of you sit in an amicable silence, and you hope Seokjin can hear the life that surrounds you, however mundane. Hope he can hear the lángos vendor trying to hawk his goods; hope he can hear a city 8,000 kilometers away; hope he can hear these regular, everyday people going about their lives and remember there’s hope beyond his four walls.

I think you’d like it here, you think, but you don’t dare to say it aloud.

Time passes in a meaningless blur. Could be minutes, could be hours. No one’s come to kill you, so you reckon you’ve long since been in the clear. And maybe it speaks to Seokjin’s idea that love is a prison, because you know something’s happened to Jimin long before Seokjin speaks it into existence.

You’re up and out of the alleyway before you’re told to move. Have no idea where you’re going, but you’re racing through the streets of Budapest with a panic you haven’t ever felt in your life. Feels like quicksand; feels like molasses; feels like you have to wade through all the blood you’ve spilled, now congealed, to get to him.

“Where am I going?” you demand. Your lungs are on fire. In the split-second of silence it becomes a desperate scream. “Seokjin, tell me where the fuck I’m going!”

“The—fuck, the wa-warehouse up on your right.” You can’t think about why he’s crying. “I don’t—I don’t know wha-what’s there, you need to be careful. Please, you have to—”

Twenty seconds and you’ll be there, you’ll be with Jimin, you just need to keep running. You need to keep your head on straight. Remember your training. Remember you’ve built a life in a viper pit.

A man in a uniform is unloading a shipment around the back of the building. Faces away from you, bent at the waist. Takes very little effort to smash his head into the stone exterior and knock him unconscious, pocket his badge. You can’t get stupid now. Tell Seokjin to make sure all the cameras are cut, ask what floor when you shut yourself inside the freight elevator, unwilling to take the stairs and run into anyone who might be waiting. All the way to the top, he says, so all the way to the top you go.

—

Over the course of your life, you’ve made peace with death. Have stared it in the eye more times than you can count. Have dealt it out, evaded it, shook its hand.

You are wholly unprepared for the sight that greets you.

Red. Everything is red—the walls, the floor, what used to be a beautiful parquet pattern in the wood. In the center of the room: two bodies, maybe three. Not much that’d be able to identify them beyond a pile of teeth, no saying whose is whose. Slaughterhouse scraps.

And this is not—Jimin doesn’t work this way. Isn’t his MO. Jimin’s kills are elegant and neat, topped with a bow. What you see before you is ultraviolence. It is unhinged, it is fury, it is a complete loss of control. It’s what love looks like to Jimin, because he sits at the very edge of a rotted chair, legs crossed. Face streaked with blood, clothes covered in it.

“Jimin,” you say, because what else is there?

He tilts his head to the side, smirks a little, looks at you beneath his lashes. Eyes that used to find you across a room and calm you. Eyes that have locked onto you in the throes of pleasure. Eyes you’ve seen yourself reflected in, bathed in love and adoration.

Eyes that now contain nothing.

“Jimin, what the fuck happened?”

He removes his gloves with his teeth and doesn’t flinch away from the taste of iron. “They said they hurt you,” he states simply, “so I did what needed to be done.”

“What—” Nausea claws at your throat; for the first time, it’s all too much. This isn’t Jimin. This isn’t your Jimin, who smiled as you posed him against apricot walls in Copenhagen, who took a bullet to the stomach to protect you and never, ever told you. This is not the Jimin who wasted the last of his goodwill on loving you. “What did you do?” you whisper.

He rises to full height and it makes you flinch. You are scared of Jimin for the first time in your life: scared of who he is in this moment, what he’s capable of. And he sees it, lets that brand of anguish overtake him. Reaches for you before he decides against it and lets his hand drop to his side. Says, “I would never hurt you,” as if the words could brand themselves into your skin so you’d never forget.

“No, you’d just—” You squeeze your eyes shut. Don’t think about how one of the men nearly embedded into the floor was the one trailing you earlier.

Instead, you think about Seokjin: Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? You think about: How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled? You think about: In this life, it’s a prison.

You drop to your knees. Let the blood seep through your clothes and into your skin, undeserving of shying away from it.

Namjoon should’ve let you go.

You think about the men in front of you. Who they were, who they loved. The grief all of this is going to leave behind, and it becomes impossible to breathe. You grasp at your throat, think about all the times you’ve been strangled and who’d been there to cut the rope. There is no limit to Jimin’s devotion, and you understand now, how it drove Yoongi to madness. How he loved someone so much he would’ve retrieved their corpse from a building and how that same person can no longer bear to look at the damage they’d caused.

“This isn’t love, Jimin,” you choke out.

He stands in front of you. Stigmata. You’re worshiping at the altar of some kind of devil. At least his hands are clean when he places his fingers beneath your chin, forces you to look up at him. “What is it, then?”

“Destruction.”

A quiet huff of cruel laughter. “See, this is the difference between me and you, darling.” He takes back his hand, runs it through his blood-streaked hair, and your chin sags to your chest without his support. “Because I already knew that. Because I have destroyed myself every single day loving you.” He squats down, eye-level, and he says, “I need you to listen to me when I say this, sweetheart: you do not love me the way I love you, because I would do worse. When it comes to you, there is nothing on this earth I would not destroy to keep you safe.”

He clears his throat. Collects whatever’s in his mouth and spits onto one of the bodies. “If this is enough to have you tucking your fucking tail between your legs, then go, because this doesn’t even scratch the fucking surface.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and sometimes that says it all.

Jimin presses a kiss to the top of your head. Makes a call. Cleaners will be here soon, he says, better get going.

You watch him go.

[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]

Jimin’s hair is black when Namjoon calls the meeting.

He takes the seat across from Namjoon’s desk because they don’t meet like this often. Assignments are usually manila folders slipped under doors, hushed whispers in hallways confirmed with a nod or a text on a burner phone. Assignments are not last-minute assemblies in conference rooms and offices.

But the way Namjoon is looking at him, with his clenched jaw and a gaze that’s meant to look barbed to anyone who doesn’t actually know him—Jimin doesn’t need to ask what this is about.

Had he bothered to look, he would’ve known by the way you stood in the far corner of the room, face obscured by the mid-afternoon shadows. Yoongi’s close to you, for some reason: dressed head to toe in black, perched on a lateral file cabinet, using a metal corner to sharpen his switchblade. Just like a harbinger of death. Some sort of fucked up omen, a warning that’s come too late.

Didn’t I tell you this would end badly, he hears Yoongi taunt in his head. This is what happens when you lay with trash.

Easy for Yoongi to say when he doesn’t know what it means to be cared for by you. Doesn’t know how it feels to give in to the freefall and plummet at your feet, stripped back and laid bare. Doesn’t know how it feels to kiss secrets into your skin like constellations, to map his tongue along every unspoken confession.

Easy for Yoongi to say, because he doesn’t have to survive the aftermath. Doesn’t have to feel the heartbreak, the agony of having you and watching as you slip through his fingers. Yoongi doesn’t have to struggle just to breathe, doesn’t have to endure the nights staring at the ceiling, watching as the daylight creeps into the corners of his vision. Doesn’t have to watch you looking so unaffected.

“Jimin.” Namjoon’s tone is flat, needlelike.

Behind him, Yoongi chuckles lowly. “What?” Jimin asks, his gaze trained on the painting behind Namjoon’s head. Looks like one he’d seen in Berlin, the time the two of you had gone just because and spent an afternoon ducking in and out of museums to escape the rain.

When he closes his eyes, he still sees the raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. The beads of water rolling off the sleeves of your leather jacket. How blinding your smile had been. The laughter in your voice as you ordered beer after beer after beer for the two of you in flawless Berlinisch. A brief, fleeting glimpse at normalcy. At the kind of life the two of you could have if you were just… different. Lived different lives. Were different people.

“You’ve gotten sloppy.”

Namjoon’s words are a cold bucket of water. Snap him back to reality, yank him back to the present where he’s forced to leave those river-lined streets behind. You’re silent and Yoongi’s still snorting laughter. “Okay,” is all Jimin can bring himself to say.

Jin had gotten sloppy once, too, and Namjoon stuck him down in the basement to work logistics. Might not be so bad, Jimin reckons. He’d be away from you, spared of this fucking misery. “So you know that’s unacceptable.”

Jimin just shrugs, resigned to his fate, whatever it may be. “I’m reassigning the both of you,” Namjoon continues. “You’ll both have new partners for your next assignments, since you clearly can no longer be trusted together.”

“Who?” Jimin manages to choke out.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly having expected an argument. “You’re being sent to Shanghai with Jungkook. You,” he says, turning his attention to you, “are going to Moscow with Taehyung.”

She’s fond of Taehyung, Jimin wants to say. But you’d been fond of him too, once upon a time, and that’d only ended in heartbreak, so who fucking cares.

They’re cruel, the tricks Jimin’s mind plays on him. How he convinces himself you look pained. How his fingers wring together at the thought of entrusting his life in the hands of someone else, someone new. At your life being just as at stake; at Taehyung being tasked with keeping you alive. Would you die for him, too, the way you’d always told Jimin you would for him? Would Taehyung take a bullet to the stomach to keep you safe the way Jimin had?

Even more cruel is the way you scoff, pushing yourself off of the wall as you fold your arms across your chest and say, “That’s bullshit, Kim Namjoon.”

No one talks to Namjoon that way except you.

Yoongi’s knife stops twirling. Just like a bird sensing a storm, senses on high-alert as he flicks his gaze over to you. “I’m sorry?” Namjoon says. “What part of Jimin losing his mind and nearly outing all of us seems like bullshit to you?”

“Hm, let me think,” you retort, a manicured finger tapping against the hollow of your cheek. “The part where you’re reassigning me for someone else’s mistake?”

Which part was the mistake? Jimin wants to ask. Needs to know how much you regret. Was sleeping with you the mistake? Falling in love with you? Getting too caught up in all these daydreams and letting reality get away from him?

“This organization is more important than Park Jimin getting his goddamn dick wet,” Namjoon snaps. “Keeping all of you safe—keeping you alive—is more—”

You scoff. Take an entire container of gasoline and pour it right on top of Namjoon’s flammable ire. “Then perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain to me why Min fucking Yoongi can fuck damn near everyone in this establishment, yet I have to sit here and listen to your goddamn mouth—”

Jimin doesn’t think Yoongi even knows his arm is moving.

There’d just been the trading of barbed words. His own name being spoken into the ether. Yoongi’s arm moving away from his body, switchblade clasped tightly between his fingers as he plunges it into your flesh.

Jimin watches it puncture your arm in slow motion. Feels the bile in his throat, the heat in his belly. Looks first at Namjoon whose jaw has gone slack, skin pale, as he stammers over words that won’t come. Then he looks at Yoongi—expects to find shock or guilt but finds only a muted disinterest and flared nostrils.

Finally, he looks at you. Watches the white cotton sleeve of your shirt slowly turn red and sticky-wet. Watches as your lips move around syllables and vowels and consonants Jimin can’t decipher.

“—fucking piece of shit, this is my favorite shirt! I’ll never get all this goddamn blood out of it—”

Jimin thinks he hears Yoongi say you deserve it. But Jimin isn’t really thinking much as he clambers out of his chair and moves in Yoongi’s direction. Doesn’t think at all as he lets instinct take over, lets adrenaline steer him headfirst into yet another bad idea.

He’s always known there’d come a day he’d be face-to-face with the sight of your blood. Had always known it’d come from someone else’s hand. Had always promised himself that hurting you would be the last thing anyone ever did.

Jimin has his fingers wrapped around Yoongi’s throat and he finally understands it—the joy Yoongi finds in taking life.

“What’s the matter, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi taunts. Jimin tightens his grip. Suddenly hates that fucking scar across Yoongi’s eye. “You’re never on clean-up duty. Always make your girlfriend do the dirty work. Finally grew some fucking balls, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Jimin says stupidly. Can’t think of anything more to say. Not that he needs to. Wrapping your hands around someone’s throat sends enough of a message, he thinks.

Namjoon’s still tongue-tied as you yank Yoongi’s blade from your arm, immediately pressing your other hand over the wound to stem the bleeding. The sight of your blood is making Jimin dizzy; the smell of the iron hanging in the air. All he wants to do is choke the life out of the man in front of him, but more than that, he just wants to hold your hand. Wants to comfort you, even though he knows you don’t need it. Not from him, not from anyone, but he still wants to. Wants to press his lips to the sweat at your brow.

And Yoongi can see it, too, because he starts laughing. It’s an odd, fractured noise. Jimin isn’t sure if he’s ever heard him laugh before, decides he also hates the way it sounds. Feels all wrong watching it leave his crooked smirk. Makes Jimin’s stomach plummet to the ground.

“Oh, you’re fucked, aren’t you?” Yoongi teases around Jimin’s slackened grip. “You weren’t just fucking her, you’re in love with her.”

Weird how Jimin is the one with his hands around someone’s neck and feels like he’s the one suffocating.

[ 31.2304° N, 121.4737° E | Shanghai, CHINA ]

Jimin watches the life drain from an innocent woman’s face and feels nothing.

Jimin watches Jungkook cut a man down and feels even less.

When it’s over, he cleans up wordlessly and doesn’t eat for three days.

[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]

Jimin’s hair has faded to brown by the time he returns from Shanghai.

The more complicated job had gone to you and Taehyung. Jimin had tried not to take it personally. The Russian hits are always unnecessarily violent and Jungkook still isn’t fully trained. There’s still a phantom pain in Jimin’s stomach that warns him of the consequences of taking on more than he can chew. So, sure, Shanghai had gone fine, but his mind had been nearly 7,000 kilometers away the entire time.

Good thing he’d returned to Seoul unscathed, too, because he’s sure Namjoon would’ve eliminated him without a moment’s hesitation if he’d fucked up again.

But Shanghai had only served to prove the leader right. Jimin can’t work with you anymore. Can’t focus, can’t stomach the violence, can’t keep his goddamn head on straight.

He sighs as he glances at Jungkook to his right. Jimin had watched him murder two men in cold blood not even thirty-six hours ago and now he’s doe-eyed and sucking down his third banana milk of the morning. It really makes his head spin, being paired with this grown-up infant of a man now instead of you, but for all of Jungkook’s apparent shortcomings, he’d kept Jimin alive. He isn’t dead.

And then you walk in with Taehyung and he wishes he was.

Because you’re laughing and Taehyung’s got his arm slung around your shoulder and you look happy. It’s the kind of happiness that should be contagious, bloom warmth in his chest, but it doesn’t. It just takes the last frayed strand of hope he has and sets flame to it.

You don’t look like you miss Jimin at all. Don’t look like you’ve lost sleep or skipped meals.

“Didn’t take you long, did it?” Jimin says, because he’s wounded and lashing out. Not because he means it.

You must know he doesn’t, too, because you don’t react. “Watch your mouth, Park Jimin,” Taehyung warns, because he doesn’t know, and this only sets Jimin off more. You don’t need defending. Or had you, and Jimin had simply thought it wasn’t his place to provide it? That you wouldn’t want it?

“Or what, Kim Taehyung?”

Taehyung is cherubic. It’s part of his charm, one of many reasons why he’s so effective. If you’re looking to die, you look for the guy who looks like Yoongi, not the one who smiles wide and warm like Taehyung. So when he sets his jaw and pokes his tongue into his cheek and says, “Or I’ll cut your fucking head off, you stupid fuck,” your attention is finally piqued.

“I’m so sick of this,” Jungkook wails, banana milk tossed carelessly in the trash. “All of you need to get your fucking shit together!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at the same time you pretend to inspect your nails. “Is that why you’re so temperamental, Chim?” Taehyung prods, looking every bit the pretentious, murderous angel he is. “Because you got sent to China on a babysitting mission while the grownups did real work?”

“Fuck you,” Jungkook snaps, rising to full height. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me.” Taehyung’s words are razor-sharp and smell like kerosene. “Tell me, then: were you on babysitting duty? Had to look after our precious little Jiminie while he nursed his broken heart?”

You sigh, full of faux-exasperation, and place a gentle hand on Taehyung’s forearm. Dig your nails in just enough to be a warning, and if Jimin hadn’t been looking he’d miss it: the way Taehyung deflates instantly, anger dissipating like smoke, back in control. Just because you’d touched him. Just because you were there. Jimin knows that touch, how it feels to be under your control, and it makes his chest ache. Makes everything feel like it’s sitting wrong in his stomach, and he’s either going to be sick all over Namjoon’s overpriced fucking rug or wrap his hands around Taehyung’s throat the way he’d done to Yoongi.

He’s out of his goddamned mind; he feels untethered. Helpless. Like it was always going to end like this, and maybe Jimin knew that and had just ignored it. Maybe now he’s paying the price—maybe he’s finally found something he can’t afford.

Jungkook’s still going off, nasty gaze set on Taehyung because he’s the only one playing along. They’re exchanging words Jimin can’t make heads nor tails of. Words he doesn’t care about. Words that ring empty and hollow because they sound nothing like the way you say his name. Shapeless, unlike the way your lips move around those syllables.

“Jimin,” you say, the sound finally registering and bringing him back down to earth. All he can do is stare. “Can we talk?” Taehyung and Jungkook are still trading barbs.

Wonders how he got here. Looks around the room and wonders if each and every one of them is destined for this same fate, this madness. Wants to tell you why he forgot his vest, why he was three hours late in Argentina. Wants to grovel and beg and leave this place and never look back.

More than anything, he wants to know what it feels like to actually be human.

So he shakes his head. Tries not to be haunted by the way your face falls at the rejection.

There is a scar on his abdomen and a scar on your arm that both tell the same story. There is a man in the basement who is in love with a man above ground and is too weighed down by guilt to do anything about it. There is a man here who plays god, has soldiers to do his bidding, and there is very little here that Jimin has only for himself.

The two of you will have that conversation, but he needs to be human, first.

[ 34.6901° N, 135.1956° E | Kobe, JAPAN ]

This is a waste of your fucking time.

Whatever Namjoon had thought would be here doesn’t seem to exist. Yoongi can barely tolerate you on a good day, threatens to stick a dagger in your neck at least twice an hour, but the more time the two of you waste chasing ghosts, the closer he comes to unraveling entirely.

“Stop fucking staring at me,” he snaps, blowing the smoke of his cigarette right in your face.

You tut. “But you’re so beautiful, Yoongi, I just can’t help it.”

He digs his switchblade from his boot. Makes a show of flipping it open. “I can cut your fuckin’ eyes out of your skull,” he intones. “Maybe that’ll help.”

In your ear, Jimin’s laughter rings like crystal.

Ricochets off of all the corners of Seokjin’s basement, makes the echo sound warped through the earpiece. “Please tell Yoongi-ssi to keep an eye on the man with the shaved head. In front of him, roughly sixty degrees to his right.”

You relay the message. Watch as Yoongi transforms—sharpened gaze, rigid posture, disappears into the shadows. More apex predator than man. “And me?” you ask.

“Backup,” comes Seokjin’s voice. “We haven’t found your mark yet.”

You hum. Pick up the cigarette Yoongi left behind and stick it between your lips. Smoke it nearly to the filter. “You got it, boss,” you tease, just because it flusters him.

“I’m—that’s not—knock it off.”

Exhale. Stub out the cigarette. Butt in your pocket. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, and his voice is soft, sounds like spun sugar. “Stay alive, all right?”

Jimin’s hair isn’t dyed at all.

if you've read this far: thank you so, so much! i am more appreciative than i can put into words. this is very different from what i typically write, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

i would love to hear your thoughts if you have any. <3

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts smut #jimin imagine #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x y/n

330 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 6 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.62)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: love becomes guilt, predator becomes prey, and Jin becomes...

Tags: Hospitals, medical talk, sicfic, seizures, angst, hurt/comfort, assassin! Jimin, implied autistic! jimin, meltdowns, settling, non-sexual biting, Mafia shit, murder, Dead bodies, Guns, violence, blood. everyone lives nobody dies, morality conversations, revenge, secrets

W/c: 10.9k

A/n: thank you to everyone who helped me make my birthday this year super special <3 im sorry if i was bad at thanking people publicly for their specific gifts <3 i figured that the next best way i could say thank you was to give you another chapter...be warned, this one ends on QUITE the cliffhanger....be warned

Previous part ~ Masterlist

The hospital is cold, maybe that’s just because of the first snow.

It gathers on the trees outside like a faint white outline where someone forgot to fill the image in. Cresting the shoulders of everyone who walks into the hospital and turning the streetlight into halos and the sky into one big white blanket. The whole world is a nest when the weather is like this. Maybe if the whole world was a nest, it would be enough to keep you all safe.

It’s useless to hope, as you wait with Jimin outside of Jungkook’s hospital room.

The hospital is a mess of glowing exit signs and endless beeping. A dull roar in your ears from coming down adrenaline and a telephone nearby blares. The scratchy intercom system overhead pages a doctor for a code red. Whatever that is. You sit and wait, worrying and picking at your nails, full of useless energy. There is nothing to do but wait until someone tells you if Jungkook’s alright.

You're not sure if he will be, this seizure was a bad one.

You and Jimin sit side by side, and you don’t talk. You don’t even touch. You don’t know what you prefer, the instant terror of the car bomb, or this slow terror. Slow terror feels like nails dragging down the back of your skull, like clothes that are two sizes too tight. A bad taste in your mouth, not blood and not soot either.

The relief of finding out that Jungkook wasn’t calling you because Moonbyul had done something to him was only temporary. instead of your packmate there was a stranger on the other end of the line.

He’d still been seizing when you’d got back to the coffee shop. Foreghein scents on him and a crowd of patrons and paramedics surround him. His eyes rolled back into his skull, on his side, blue lips and froth on the edge of his mouth. Luckily, someone in that coffee shop was a doctor, was able to keep him semi-comfortable but-

This seizure had lasted a long time. Too long. Jungkook has been a patient at most of the local hospitals before on account of how unpredictable his seizures are. He has directives as per Namjoon's guidance, in place since before they were even packmates. Anything more than 6 minutes needs an overnight stay and copious testing. This seizure had lasted almost 10. The longest he's had in years.

You'd watched horrified and all too familiar with it as they’d loaded your still twitching packmate into the red box. Unsympathetic paramedics unwilling to hear your pleas to just let Jimin ride with them to the hospital (he'd tailgated them the whole way) but even at the hospital you and Jimin still couldn’t see him. They whisked him right up for an MRI.

Maybe you’d be less unnerved if Jungkook had woken up, but he hasn’t yet.

They’re still running tests and keeping him under just to be sure. Not a medical coma, but the step below that. Something about Jungkook’s malfunctioned ocular nerve and not wanting to trigger more seizures with more stimuli until the lorazepam and half a dozen other medications have time to take effect.

Jimin is the one who okayed those. He signed those papers for medications as easily as if he were swiping his card or maybe firing a gun. You feel out of your depth here, even if Jimin is very used to this. It’s been a while. It’s not your fault the luck ran out. Maybe that’s why he’s angry, maybe that’s why he’s not touching you. You are at once, somewhere between a four-leaf clover and a bad luck charm. Intangible and unsure of your odds.

Maybe Jimin's not touching you because he hates you, maybe he hates you because you forced him to let you come with him. you'd have been by Jungkook's side while this happened if you hadn't. But Jimin might have died from the explosion then-

Jungkook might still die, you realize with a lurch. Jungkook might die because of the seizures and could die at any time really. It's so easy to forget. Maybe that's why Jimin's not touching you. Your thoughts rush over you, wave after wave.

But Jimin thinks you don’t deserve to be touched when he’s this angry. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of an angry alpha touching you and he won’t be one of them. Won’t make you worse when you’re sitting small and fragile. Barely there, barely alive. No, he'll keep his shaking hands tightened to fists on his knees and his angry tongue locked behind pursed lips. touching you would be more for him than it is for you he's convinced.

Too close, they were too close today. Jimin promised you that he wouldn’t let them hurt you. He promised and he'd failed. you still have the gash on your chin.

His worry for Jungkook is another monster entirely, one that can't be made better with actions, that can't be fixed with his own two hands.

Yoongi and Tae are the first to arrive. Your mate’s hair is wet and tousled, in a pair of pajama pants on like he’d just been showering for the evening before he’d come. Tae is close behind, a pair of pink sweatpants poking out from below her long thick coat and her long nightdress tucked into the waistband. The same dress you cuddled up beneath this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Yoongi holds your cheeks, searching your face. The words tumble from your lips, the first you and Jimin have said in what feels like hours.

“He was just- we were just getting the car and we thought he’d be fine for a second but then-” you feel like you’re going to be sick all over his shoes. In his hurry, Yoongi put on a pair of Tae’s Uggs, the platform ones. You don't know why your brain fixates on that.

“It’s not your fault,” is the first thing he says, although even he sounds unsure. You shouldn’t have left him alone are the words that he must be thinking, the words that no one’s saying.

(This is a lie. This is your brain making up the worst-case scenario and clinging to it. There is nothing anyone can do, no precautions that they can take that they already haven’t when it comes to Jungkook’s seizures. Yoongi just gets small and quiet whenever Jungkook is sick. Jungkook will always be sick, and this quiet devastation will always find your mate because he loves Jungkook so).

There is nothing to do but wait, even though waiting with them is better than waiting alone.

The people at the coffee shop said they saw jungkook lie down before he started seizing. That's the only way they were able to call you, because he'd had your contact open on his phone. He'd known he was about to have one and he'd tried to call you. He'd been afraid and alone and then he'd been nothing.

The movements of the hospital slosh the four of you like an unmoored boat while you wait. Every doctor coming closer prompts a turn of your head and pleading eyes. Hoping that they’re the ones that will relieve you of your misery. Your leg jumps up and down, jittery. Jimin by comparison is deathly still.

Yoongi goes up to the desk and Tae sits between you and Jimin, one hand a piece on either of your thighs. You lean into her and Jimin rests his cheek on her shoulder slowly. She holds around your shoulders, looking back and forth between the two of you. She doesn’t any anything.

Her fingers rub up and down your shoulder, feeling the crumbliness there. She picks her hand up, and you watch as she takes in the darkness. It's soot.

“It’s from the ambulance,” Jimin says before you can force your words to cooperate and lie.

Jin comes through with a flurry of his long felted coat, snow gathering on his wide shoulder. Holding his keys in his hand and almost dropping them when you stand to collide with him. He has just a choked-out "pup" for you but then there's the nurse, the one you've been waiting for. Telling you that Jungkook's fine- he's not awake yet- but that you can wait in his room with him until he does.

Jungkook doesn't have too many wires connected to him, nothing more than an electrode at his temple, one at his heart, and an IV in his wrist. His hospital gown is pulled down to his collarbones so that the electrodes don't pull, but his skin is absent of his usual healthy flush.

You wait, watching until you notice the rise and fall of his chest. Even and beautiful breath. Jungkook is alive, Jungkook is breathing of his own accord. You let out a single broken sob, but you're not the only one.

You watch Yoongi brush his hair back from his face, eyes glassy. Seokjin sits by his right side and tae takes the other. Jimin and you stand at the foot of his bed, just watching him. No one says anything. Every beep of the heart monitor is anticipated, every second more precious.

"There's nothing on his MRI that indicates any lasting brain damage from the seizure," the nurse states, fussing with Jungkook's IV. "but it will be hard to know until he wakes up. You might notice him unable to recognize you or speak for a few minutes- the location of the seizure may have affected his language and motor capabilities so-"

She continues to list his prognosis, but it's nothing you didn't know before. Every seizure has a risk of taking out part of Jungkook's faculties, his fine motor skills, and his speech. But a seizure has never damaged him beyond repair before. Tae takes one of Jungkook's hands from the bed and brings it to her face, trying to hide her tears but it's no use.

It’s startling, how much your body relaxes upon Namjoon’s presence, you feel the shift in the air before he enters the room. Nauseous one moment and then fine the next. He enters the room, hand skimming the top of your head and Yoongi's side as he be-lines it to Jungkook's chart.

His scent is so thick- comforting coffee even if it is a a little stale. You sway, and when he looks up, his eyes flicker from you and then the nurse.

Today is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it. It feels like it's ending every time Jungkook finds his way into a hospital bed, a good 3 or 4 times in a year. Honestly, they’ve been so quiet recently, so unnoticeable that they should have known a bigger one was building.

“Dr. Kim,” Jungkook’s nurse says, this is not Namjoon’s hospital, but he is on Jungkook’s file. This nurse looks at him and waits for his call. Namjoon flicks past one page on his chart and then another, pursing his lips.

“Why didn't Avery order a Ct? it’s not here.”

“The ct has already been run Dr. Kim, He put the order in 4 minutes ago” Namjoon hums, and you watch the clench of his jaw, the extra tight way he bites his cheek. And it’s then you realize oh, Namjoon is about to cry.

Yoongi gets to him before you do, Jungkook’s fingers twitch of their own accord against Namjoon’s wrist and Yoongi grips his shoulder. Namjoon looks back at him and at the same time, Jungkook opens his eyes blinking against the dim lights.

His words are all garbled for the first few seconds after a seizure, the Jumbled groan startling enough that you flinch. Yoongi backs up so that Jin and Namjoon can hold him down as he reaches blindly, startled and moving before his brain has a second to catch up.

"It's okay Jungkook, you had a seizure. You were out for a few hours, You're okay,"

"Come up slowly, don't try to sit up there you go."

Jungkook tries to get up and out of the bed but has to be held down by namjoon until his brain comes back online, he continues to speak garbled nonsense for a moment. Too loud, voice loud after so much quiet. It startles you; you take a step back.

And almost step right on Hobi’s shoes.

Hoseok is there, hand on the small of your back. Snowflakes that still haven’t melted in his hair. He doesn’t say hi to you, but his hand stays there. Pressed flat. He only has eyes for Jungkook. Jungkook relaxes, falling back on the bed, and gets one coherent syllable out and then another. It's their names-.

"Alpha- Joon- hughr-"

Jungkook pants, breathing heavily, and then his hand reaches up steadily, to touch the electrode on his head. Yoongi's hand closes around his just in case, but he doesn't rip it off.

Everyone waits with bated breath.

“You alright kookie?” Hoseok asks careful, with that same level of humor in his voice that you’ve come to need. His smile is as genuine as ever as he looks down a Jungkook in the hospital bed. Jungkook’s hand is tight around Namjoon’s as he stretches, muscles aching. He’s always so sore after a seizure. It's always so disorienting coming out of them like this.

Jungkook waits, testing out his words. “I feel like Like it got hit by a trucking fuck.”

He blinks, and the lights are turned low, but a breath passes and Tae laughs and so does Yoongi, and then everyone's laughing and sort of crying. Your knees go a little weak and you turn into hobi's chest hiding your tears.

Jungkook just blinks at the ceiling. “That wasn’t right.” But then everyone's smiling. Happy because he's talking, happy because it looks like the seizure didn't do any lasting damage. Jin rests his head on the coverlet and sighs a happy sound. All too relieved to hear Jungkook act something like himself. Wordlessly Jin brings Jungkook's wrist to his face, pressing his nose to his scent gland.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enter the room along with someone who Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon. Asking Jungkook how many fingers she's holding up, Namjoon's name, then testing his reflexes on his hands and toes. Stress tests and memory tests.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enters the room along with someone whom Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon and refers to him by name.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi. Tae opens the door and gestures. You step out because it’s surely more important that Namjoon Jin and Yoongi get at Jungkook right now even if your heart clenches painfully at leaving Jungkook.

Jimin is still vibrating out of his skin, has been since Jungkook opened his eyes. But Tae tugs him in for a hug in the hallway. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you watch him hug her back. But Jungkook was Tae and Jimin’s packmate first. It’s no wonder that this has shocked them both closer, their fight forgotten.

Or mostly forgotten, you watch as Jimin wraps his arms around her slowly, like he's not sure he's allowed.

Hobi jogs you out of your starting, turning your face towards his and, looking at you intently. Eyes flickering down to your chin and then to your eyes. You forget what he’s looking at until his fingers skim below your lips and you feel pain.

You drag your arm across it and it leaves a small rusty trail in its wake on the sleeve of Tae's jacket, just another stain on it. Oh, you fell during the blast and banged your face, you'd almost forgotten.

“Tripped, banged my face on the sidewalk.” it's close enough to the truth that the lie goes unnoticed. Hobi makes a sound, holding your elbow. Squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’m gonna get some snacks from the vending machine, can I get you something?”

“Didn’t eat dinner” you say, staring down at Hobi’s red Converse. There are scuffs on the linoleum and a drop of blood someone must have missed. You wonder who it’s from, another person from the emergency room probably. “You sure Jin and Joon won’t be angry if my dinner is just sweets?”

Tae is close enough to overhear, and she rubs her cheek across the top of Jimin’s head, scenting him sweet (or trying to.) “Yeah- junk food isn’t exactly the most nutritious.”

You stumble, stepping close, swaying suddenly on your feet. Hobi catches you around the shoulders and for a second, you must look like the mirror image of Tae and Jimin.

Hobi's scent smarts with worry and he pushes you back, making you sit down. “They can live with it, she deserves a special treat. I’m getting you a Band-Aid.” Tae looks like she wants to argue with Hobi, then doesn’t.

Hobi gets Skittles and Peanut Eminem’s and two bags of funyuns that you pick apart while you wait for the doctors to be done. The colorful packages are scattered across your lap as he tilts your head to put the Band-Aid on your chin (gotten from a helpful nurse). Fingers that tenderly curve under the wide part of your jaw, drumming there.

Tae nibbles on a peach ring. Inside Jungkook's hospital room, it isn't quiet, but the four of you are silent with exhaustion listening in. Jin sounds relieved, and the low grumble from your mate sounds just as happy.

Jimin still isn’t speaking much, just pacing back and forth in front of Jungkook’s door. When you say you feel nauseous, Hobi gets up and gets you ginger ale too. You know there just isn’t much for him to do, alpha instincts and no omega to cool them but you. Hobi holds your hand, he doesn’t say that Jungkook’s going to be okay. He doesn’t say anything but.

“Which are your favorite?”

The back of Skittles jingles and he picks out all the green ones, lining up his pants in an orderly little row for you to grab when the ones you suck on go small enough.

You don't realize you're crying until he gets you a tissue, dabbing at your cheek. "There you go, Kookies gonna be fine. He's always fine." His voice goes slower, honeyed.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, and he lets you. “You got a pair of headphones?” Your breath is shaky, and you think you might be shaking apart right now if it wasn’t for Hobi.

Namjoon stares at the packages for a second too long when he exits the door. His hair is pushed up like he’s run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t smell quite as worried as he did before. He looks at the package and you shrink underneath his disapproving stare.

He all but snaps his fingers, “Tae, would you please go get some real food.” Hobi does not flinch at Namjoon’s cross-tone, even as Tae shoots to her feet and chirps "Yes alpha!"

Hobi doesn’t do anything but stare Namjoon down, put a pink starburst on his tongue, slowly.

Jimin keeps pacing.

“We’re sleeping here tonight.” It’s not an order or a request- your pack alpha has decided that this is too great a danger to separate you so you won’t separate. Neither of you pipes up anything to the contrary, now is not the time for contrary voices.

Jimin is still pacing. Black leather shoes smoothed and silent, barely acknowledging the pack alpha.

He’s making you anxious, your scent sour even to your own nose as your eyes track him back and forth. Namjoon pulls you to your feet, hand lingering on the back of your neck. “Will you be okay in those clothes pup? Or should someone go home and get your things?”

You hear the request for what it is; Namjoon is asking you if you think the alphas need a nest to settle if you think they need a change of clothes and things that smell like pack tonight for sleep and safety. he's leaving this up to you.

Your hands stay buried in the pockets of Tae’s white floral jacket. Hoping he doesn’t notice the soot smudge on your shoulder. “It'll be fine just-” your eyes are half glassy, “are you sure Koo will be okay?”

The pack alpha pulls you to his front, and one of the nurses passing by gives you both a look, you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him. "of course he's going to be, we're making sure of it" Namjoon promises.

"I meant like, without a nest."

Namjoon laughs, and you watch the stress melt off his shoulders. he turns, guiding you inside with a peculiar look over his shoulder at Hobi. “I’m sure he’d love it if you’d help him make one. he already wants to start"

Jungkook looks a little bit better, with less of a pale-yellow flush to his face and more of a healthy glow. pouting down at the blankets and complaining that they're too rough.

For someone who looks so physically well/muscles defined even when they’re not flexed, it’s always a bit startling to see him lying prone and exhausted, lights dim to avoid the risk of another seizure.

Tae comes back with some food, and you all eat in silence, white Styrofoam containers balanced across your knees. The faint crinkle and drag of plastic spoons scraping plastic bowls. Jungkook eats hospital food. Nibbles it, and doesn't throw it up. One of the side effects of the medication is nausea.

The only one not at ease is Jimin, who doesn’t eat, sitting tacitly in the corner watching each of you, getting up occasionally to pace. The pack let him work off his restless energy until it’s clear it’s making Jungkook restless too. Shifting and watching him. His request of, “Minnie will you come and sit by me?” goes unanswered as Jimin flexes his hands from open palm to open fist again and again.

Jungkook watches the jello in his plastic tray jiggle with the force of Jimin's pacing, back and forth. Back and forth. Tae sighs, and Yoongi stiffens.

He goes like that, pacing one two three steps just in front of Tae before turning. He falls apart like this until Jin steps up to intercept him, and Jimin rocks to a stop rather than crash into him. He’s put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense ball there. Moving quicker than any of you thought possible.

“Breathe.” Comes his terse request. A little broken, a little begging. But Jimin’s alpha will never willingly disobey an order from his pack omega, that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Jimin’s alpha has taken over, took over the second he saw Jungkook lying between those two tables in the coffee shop. All instinct and no Jimin, all fear and pulse and get them safe get them home get them out.

But it’s like Jimin’s lungs are pried open from it. He gasps, and Jin pulls him in for a thorough scent mark, systematically dragging his teeth from ear to ear, hard enough to leave dull red lines in his wake. You watch Jimin’s eyes dilate and constrict, plush lips parting in a gasp. Looking at you.

Jin licks his teeth after, “There you go.” You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Jin settle Jimin or if you’ve ever seen him settle any of the alphas like this. Jimin asks for bites again and Jin obliges. Bending over him to drive his teeth, to nip Jimin's skin pink between his teeth. Bite after bite Jimin’s body relaxes inch by inch.

And so does the rest of the pack, underneath the covers, Jungkook shifts his hips, splaying them a little wider. Relaxing as Jimin goes boneless.

Jin’s voice is a dark croon, the tone he reserves only for Jimin and maybe Namjoon sometimes. He's a little firmer when the more dominant alphas need his touch. Jimin feels it as delicately as Yoongi's soothing thumb on the side of your thumb when Jin pinches his cheeks and shakes him a little bit.

“Now, do you want to tell Omega why you’re upset?”

“S’my fault” Jimin sways on his feet, closer to Jin’s touch than back again. a planet in orbit. the rest of the pack watched transfixed. You see Hoseok perk up slightly. “Wasn’t there.”

“Minnie, I know you,” Jin cups his cheek a little gentler. Fingers skimming stubble. “I know you,” Jin repeats, such an air of finality about it that you can’t doubt it to be true.

Jin could command the moon to shift its orbit and it would. “I know you’ll do whatever’s possible to protect the pack" Jimin's eyelashes flutter. "To your dying breath.”

“You don’t have to be so intense about it” Namjoon half snaps, any of them dying isn't what he wants to think about right now. But he's forgiven the second he realizes he's being too harsh, everyone’s a bit stressed right now.

Jin’s dark tone falls away as quick as it came, “But still- what happened with JK wasn’t your fault, isn’t that right kookie?”

Jungkook nods, eyes closed, licking his lips like he's tasting the settling in the air. “Not Jimin’s fault my brains fucked up, just how it is” Jin pecks Jimin’s head, pinning his blond hair flat. “See pup? Listen to the omega’s, You’re fine. Everyone's going to be fine."

Jin speaks the words so surely you almost believe it.

The hospital is a bit generous with the extra sleeping cots (Namjoon might have called his boss and asked him to pull privileges), and you get 3 that they roll up one on one side of Jungkook's hospital bed, and two more on the other side.

But you and Jin pile in just around him. Cuddled up close and scenting along his shoulders, sniffling and fluffing a few extra threadbare blankets around him in a makeshift nest, full of your jackets too.

You steal Tae's pants for the nest making, letting her untuck her nightdress and let it flutter around her. But when one of the nurses comes to the door Namjoon (panicked) throws himself across the exposed line of her honeyed thighs to conceal her nakedness. but she just giggles, she’s not some Victorian maiden full of virtue, but it makes Jungkook smile and scrunch his nose. and it feels like a win even if Namjoon's cheeks go bright red.

You cuddle up, trying fitfully to banish the medicinal scent by scenting him. It's sour and not all like him, but the medicine they give him for his seizures always makes him smell a little off for a few days. It’s no less distressing to you, but Jungkook just grins and tells the others to let you do what you need when you rest your body weight on top of him and stubbornly bury your face in his chest. His hand with the attached IV strewn across your back to cradle your ribs.

Before no time Jungkook is laughing and leaning into Yoongi’s stomach where he lies across the top of the bed. In no time he's taking a few bites of veggies and a few sips of water, eyes heavy. He is tried from the seizure and medication even if he puts on a brave face.

They’ll drag him into one more MRI in the morning just to be sure that nothing concerning has developed over time but until then, the beeping of Jungkook’s heart monitor is your lullaby. Every heartbeat is a new chance. You don't even mind the lumpy hospital pillow. The pack goes quiet when Jungkook's eyes flutter, when they shut and his breathing goes deep. yoongi puts his finger to his lips and jin shifts slowly, Jungkook's head resting on his thigh. your lovely packmate resting between jin's parted legs.

The rest of the pack falls like Domino’s once Jungkook's asleep. Hobi shucks off his jeans to be more comfortable and so does Yoongi. The room is full of heavy breaths and dreams waiting to swoop in. You struggle to settle until Hobi gives you one of his headphones, and you lie close to share them, one in each of your ears. he still has his sleepy time playlist, and it blocks out the sounds of the hospital. When Sleep takes you it's thankfully dreamless.

Somehow Hobi's hand finds your waist under the covers, bunching up and tangling in his sweatshirt. Clinging to you and holding on for dear life. His bare thighs between your thin leggings tangled up in the makeshift nest. Jin only glances at your particular closeness a few times.

Sleep evades jin until he gives up on it entirely. Nothing feels quite as good to Jin’s instincts as having all of his packmates sleeping in one room. Even if it's not quite good enough to get him to fall asleep himself. But still- Jin would rather they not be here; would rather they be in the nest at home.

That will have to wait until tomorrow.

The distant hum of the hospital and the sound of his dull typing fill the room. His work computer screen is the only light in the whole room besides the monitors. Jin's computer balanced on his back because Jin had to leave during a briefing on a low-level gang member and Koo said he didn’t mind being used as a computer rest so long as Jin kept running his hands through his hair. Jimin is curled up on the next nearest cot, within petting (and settling) distance if he should need it.

7 a.m.

A look at the clock says that the pack has 5 more hours until Jungkook is allowed to be discharged. Until then, Jin will get some work done and keep an eye on the rest. Namjoon sleeps by the door, he declined a cot on account of there not being enough room for the rest of them to sleep comfortably. Namjoon turns fitfully with every new person who walks by the door. He’s gone in and out of sleep a few times. If he flinches awake again, Jin will get him a cup of coffee.

Until then, there's paperwork and an endless array of evidence for Jin to examine.

There are documents he can look over again, the same ones, back and forth. There are about 300 crime scene photos for each murder that the family has committed in the last 6 months, it doesn’t hurt to skim them again and refresh his notes.

That boy from the coffee shop burned beyond recognition. A pair of 30 caliber bullets in his chest. One under his ribs the other in his head, evidence of deep lacerations and torture on his body, bitten tongue, and evidence of red paint under his fingernails. The only other bit of evidence.

The origin of these paint flecks have been a source of annoyance and frustration for jin and the rest of his coworkers. Maybe they're evidence from a third location between abduction and dumpsite? A bit of the killer's car scraped maybe? The paint was metallic, old-fashioned. After a few minutes, Jin moves on to other murders, other people who have lives and packs and dreams that the family extinguished.

Jin no longer spends hours looking at his picture. The one of Choi Beomgyu alive and grinning. He still gets weekly calls from his pack alpha, begging Jin for any updates and leads. Jin has stopped feeling guilty over being empty-handed.

Jin’s boss's crime scene photos are a little harder to look at if only because of the nausea that those photos bring. Although Jin has become so desensitized to them that his bloated face no longer makes his stomach swirl with revulsion. His missing hand, the torn stump of it induced post-mortem.

One burned and one drowned.

These two kills are by far the family's messiest and hastiest. Usually, they don't even find this much of the bodies. Just a few fragments of bone or a tooth in a pire. Most of the time people just disappear.

What did you know, he thinks, looking at the photograph of the boy and then his charred corpse, what did you know that you shouldn’t have? Why didn't they have time to properly make you disappear? Why couldn't they risk you talking?

It’s funny, out of all the evidence, he tries to look at your cookbook and the late Don and data’s autopsy reports the least. Their tox screen and that one page that might as well be your confession and Ahn Hyejin's (Jin compared the second handwriting to a sample they had on file and matched hers to it in about an hour). Their murder was a neat and tidy little thing, but it is the murder that got his boss killed so maybe Jin should treat it with more scrutiny.

But that’s so simple, it’s almost a wonder why such a slight thread of spider silk needed snipping. Or is Jin wrong and this is a thread that could send the whole thing crumbling down?

Jin’s not sure yet, but maybe after a few more hours of pouring over this, he will be.

It’s nearing 3 in the morning and Jin is still sifting through every little bit of information when a ding punctuates the quiet in the room. Jin panic smashes the mute button before any of his packmates stir.

A warm body away, Hobi lets out a particularly deep and easy breath, and Jin relaxes.

Jin’s first thought looking at the email, is that no one not directly connected to the bureau should be able to get ahold of his email address, let alone be able to send him anything.

The email doesn’t have a heading, and the email doesn’t even have a subject or a cc. Unlike half of Jin’s other correspondents to other people giving them guidelines and delegating tasks. It's only secure for him to look at these here because everyone’s eyes are closed.

On closer look, the sender is just a random email generated with an obscure amount of Xs. He hovers over it. Cursor blinking until he clicks it, he knows better than to click on the link without launching it on his firewall server but the contents of the email aren’t anything but a video and a short line of text.

Skip to 17:19:07 for the fun parts :)

The video isn’t infested with bugs planning on robbing his data and pilfering him for information. No, the data and danger is just right there when Jin skips ahead, Jin holds his breath as he watches the grainy imagery.

The security camera is an IPC-110 if the shitty quality is anything to judge by. Trust a parking garage to install the shittiest CCTV cameras on the market but still the blurry figures of two of Jin’s packmates is unmistakable as he watches. Jimin’s face terse and afraid, backing up against the wall and exchanging words.

The flash of light is so sudden it makes Jin flinch hard and Jungkook groans, before settling and smacking his lips. Jin hardly notices as he watches you and Jimin get thrown by the blast, tight nuckled watching Jimin tuck his body around you and shouting your name. Pauses the video just to look at Jimin's panic-stricken face. To see him yank you to your feet and put you in the car.

Jungkook makes another soft whine when Jin shifts him, jostling him “One second baby” Jin murmurs, putting his computer to the side. Your jacket is on the side of the nest, delicately folded into the border. Jin detangles it and brings it to his nose.

Fire, burning things, soot. The smell is unmistakable. If the timestamp is to be believed, this is the reason why you and Jimin weren’t at the coffee shop with Jungkook. Jin feels the last little bit of his frustration fade at this.

Oh, Minnie.

It’s no wonder why Jimin was too spooked to speak, why he’s been so laconic tonight. First you and then Jungkook so quick. The stress would have anyone shutting down, this is why Jin's smallest but strongest alpha was so quiet and afraid. Why he’d needed a bit of settling when usually he’s someone Jin can depend on during Jungkook’s seizures. One surprise is hard enough to handle.

Jin shifts his petting from Jungkook’s hair to Jimin’s, combing through his blond strands lovingly.

He rewinds the tape back to the beginning, as far back as it will go, and sets it to 3x speed. The first hour goes by in 5 minutes, The person on camera is in all black, but even in black and white Jin would know the kind of mask they wear. It's red at the top and a stunning grimace at the bottom.

He watches as someone slight and billowy, probably 5’7 in height- no 5’9- figure cuts through the cars, heading for Jimin’s like they know which one to go for. The CCTV footage doesn’t cut out at all. Usually, the family is better in concealing their crimes. Usually, they don’t even leave a hint of evidence.

Usually, they don't send the evidence to Jin.

Jin freezes the frame when the figure turns, with the mask fully facing the camera. It’s a traditional Korean mask, the same one Jin has seen photographed on the rest of the family. He drags up Google, doing a cursory search. The footage is in black and white but the images on file are all red and black.

He goes back to the first murder, those hands, the red paint chipped underneath fingernails and his breathing goes heavy.

He needs to go back to Beomgyu’s dumping site and see if there’s anything red, any other possible reason why he’d have that under his fingernails. Either that or this is all connected, and the same person who killed him is trying to kill you.

Jin's breath goes heavy when he thinks about what could have happened if Jimin hadn't been there.

Jin does not wake you and demand to know what happened, Jin keeps his breathing measured and shallow. Does not let his scent get sour enough to wake the others. Jin fully detangles himself from Jungkook and pauses to lean over you, thumb skimming the Band-Aid on your chin.

No one hurts his pack and gets away with it. No one.

He’ll think about what you know and why Jimin didn't tell him later. Poor thing was probably just too shocked to say anything. You might have convinced him that saying anything would have put Jungkook in distress. Jin's anger is a cool sort, it's not you that he's angry at.

It’s only 5 a.m. but Jin goes and gets a coffee anyways. When he gets back, he shoves it into Namjoon’s hands startling him awake. But one glance at the pack omega says that he means business. Shadowed face unreadable silhouetted against the bright and open hospital door.

“Get the doctor, we’re going home.”

~-~

You wake in the hospital bed, roused by Yoongi's gentle hand on your shoulder, feeling listless and sorer than ever with Hobi’s nose pressed to the nape of your neck and Jungkook at your front. You wonder when that started to feel normal. When Hobi cuddled you stopped feeling so forbidden.

you know that when you take off your clothes you'll find your front bruised from falling, that you'll find your body dinnged. you don't know what you'll say, how you'll excuse the marks away from them but in the meantime, you watch jungkook. get a washcloth from the bathroom and whipe his face for him, standing between his legs.

"do you want water? coffee? can i get you something before your MRI"

namjoon sighs heavy, "pup- he can't-"

jungkook leans into your hands, letting you drag the cloth over his face, it's as much grooming as you ever have, but jungkook just smiles up at you and shakes his head. "when we get home yeah?"

The golden light streams through the horizontal blinds and Jungkook shifts as he gets out of the hospital bed and into a wheelchair for his MRI, and you wait for him with the rest of the pack. Yoongi returns with bagels and coffee for everyone. The caffeine makes you all jittery.

After he's given a clean bill of health, Jungkook leaves the hospital under his own power, on his own two feet because he always needs that certainty. Declining the wheelchair that the staff offers because honestly, he’s fine, he'd run out of here if he didn't think namjoon would drag him right back inside.

You’re guided into Jimin’s car, Yoongi drives. Hobi is in the front, turning to look at you more than he should, asking you questions about what song you want to play. Really, it can go as loud as you want cuz Jungkook's in the other car. He asks too many for your brain to answer accurately. You're too tired too worn out too everything to answer.

But when you get home, there is even more movement too quick for your sleepy brain to comprehend. Jin has to go to work and so does Namjoon; something about a revision surgery that won’t take too much time and can't be rescheduled. He's barely changed and cleaned himself before he's heading out the door again. Definitely a bit too tired, but oh well.

But now at home, the rest of the pack has Jungkook well in hand and ready for a bit more babying. Jungkook will be fine by this evening. Is honestly fine now. Just a little tired of being poked and prodded and just needs to nest and rest.

Jin too seems distracted by something, checking his phone and kissing each of you on the forehead before he goes. You're tempted to whine and ask them to stay, if not for Jungkook then for you but before you can, Hobi grips both of your shoulders and tells Namjoon and Jin that he’s got it, and the moment gets stolen away from you.

“I’ll get your pajamas,” he says after the door thuds closed, while Jungkook says something to Yoongi. Noodle meows and darts around Tae's heels and Jimin carries Jungkook to the couch and gently, gently- sets him down. Your mate is distracted right now (as he should be) but that doesn’t mean Hobi can’t fill the gaps.

He thuds up the stairs, bare feet probably cold. The house is still cold from a night left empty even though Yoongi’s just turned the heat on.

Jimin gets a ding on his phone, standing up the second he’s seen it.

Unknown (9:18): I want to talk to you about a murder.

Unknown (9:18): One you might have a vested interest in.

The picture is grainy, but Jimin knows the faces of the two women like the back of his hand although Hyejin takes a few seconds of racking his brain to place. Jimin feels his blood cool to a simmer and the shaking in his hands stops. His phone dings a few more times, whoever's sending it through must be a fast texter, from a burner phone no doubt.

Unknown (9:19): Especially because of the sensitive nature of this, you understand why I’d want to meet in person.

Unknown (9:19): (See attached address)

Jimin's suspicions are immediately peaked, warning bells going off loud. But before he can do more than read over the messages again more come through.

Unknown (9:20): I’m willing to offer you 10x your normal rate for each kill. Two Mil upfront. And Three more when the hit is carried out. I understand how risky it is for you to even view these texts so here

Jimin watches the next notification from his bank account ding through and holds his breath.

Fuck, that's a lot of Zeros.

Unknown (9:20): As a show of my good faith in you. I'll see you in three hours. If not, enjoy the money.

Jimin holds onto the phone like it’s a lifeline, the black plastic case digging into his fingers. He knows it's stupid, he knows that it's dangerous, and a million other things but-

Jin's words ring in his ears. "I know you'll do whatever you have to do to protect the pack, until your dying breath."

The money means nothing to Jimin, he'd do this killing for free. Out of all the lives he's ever taken, this is the first one that maybe he's ever felt vindicated in. the first murder that he's ever truly wanted to commit.

He's gripping his phone so hard he doesn't move until you make a noise. And when he looks up at you, you have a glass of water in your hands, waiting there, watching him. There is still that fucking scrape on your chin. Jimin looks at it and his mind is made up. All of this karma has come due.

If Jimin's being honest with himself, it's not Moonbyul’s confrontation or her comments about you that had Jimin so bothered.

All that "you belong to me" kind of talk that bullshit alphas with something to prove say, like something out of a manhwa. If he's being honest, the thing that bothered him the most, that made him so very angry was how clearly you didn't want them, and how willing she was to ignore that.

He grins at you, tipping his head back and you think Jimin might look like more of a demon than a man.

“I have to go to work.”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he reaches for Mini and tries to cling but Jimin steps away, sliding back on his still-warm shoes. “I thought you called out already?”

Jimin tugs on his coat, The one with the reinforcement in it, hard panels that flap just a little bit too stiffly. The shoulders that seem just a little too crisp.

"Sorry Koo it's an emergency."

You know just by looking at him that this isn’t for his other job. (You don’t think of bodyguarding as Jimin's real job, not when this one is so much more prescient and dangerous.) You follow him outside, the door closing with that same rusty jingle of the old doorknob.

“It’s not from her.” The words are quiet, stolen. The empty birdfeeder clangs in a sudden wind and you shiver, warm only for a few seconds without a jacket. Jimin’s hand skims your shoulder and he pushes at it, urging you to go back inside.

“It’s not just her who hires me, this isn’t related to her.” He lies effortlessly. Turning and making to walk away, you wrap your arms around him and almost make him fall down the stairs but he catches both of you, swaying at the bottom.

“Pup, you need to let me go,”

“No!” you cling to him stubbornly, “if I let you go something bad is going to happen!”

Jimin is so quiet you think you might not hear him. He stops struggling and trying to twist out of your arms for a second. “You’ve got to, I have to do this, please.” his tone is so calm, so gentle. Jimin is smiling down at you when you pull back to look up at him. He gently but forcefully separates you from him, hands holding yours and prying them apart.

“I’ve got too much to make up for. You have to let me do this.”

You have a bad feeling about this, your instincts that you should listen to. Walking into this so soon after Jungkook’s seizure. Is this punishment for leaving him? Jimin slips from between your hands. Walking to his car, and you feel a lurching in your gut like something terrible is about to happen.

You say nothing, watching him, heart beating quick. but you are powerless to stop him, powerless to keep him from leaving.

You wonder if this is how Yoongi felt, leaving them. Powerless.

“You'll come back? you've got to- you can't-" you can't leave us is what you want to say. Standing on the steps of the house, Jimin by his car.

"I'd never dream of leaving you." Jimin says, swearing it. And all the fight goes out of your sails.

"Be careful Minnie.”

He looks back at you, hair ruffled by the wind. All the snow from the night before has melted but the cold will stay.

“Always am.”

You nod, giving him permission and Jimin gets in his car. You return inside where it’s warmer. And Jimin turns it on, but before he has a chance to pull away from the curb, his phone lights up with another notification.

Unknown (9:27): Make sure to wear your mask.

~-~

The location on his phone is a lot more desolate in person, the scrub brush that’s that's grown in is thick enough to hide his car. Green by the river and poisoned into sticks here. Jimin parks far away among the maze of what must be four-wheeler tracks and walks in. mask on and gun at the ready.

The rusted metal of the industrial park rises out of the soil and the fog. It has to have been abandoned for years given how poor of a condition it's in. There are a few half-fallen-down buildings and one big complicated warehouse flanked on one side by a wide and slow-moving river. The soil smells strongly of gasoline and rust. The soil here is probably soaked through with it. Jimin wonders if would burn and catch fire if a spark was lit.

The traditional mask fits snugly on Jimin’s face, the hole at the mouth just large enough for him to not feel like he’s suffocating. Eye holes are wide enough to see and not block his peripheries.

The doors are cracked and nearly rusted shut with age but Jimin slides through a crack easily. He’s a whole hour early on purpose. This is all by design, every moment of this. Every second is orchestrated like a symphony;

Jimin is the violin, with high and pointed movements, drawing his weapon like a cymbal. The crunch of his boots on the floor the drums, every breath a crooning saxophone. His thoughts flute spiraling up like high delights. All of this builds to one big crescendo.

He doesn’t take out his phone to check the time. The upstairs is mostly unlit but Jimin doesn't use a light, just lets his eyes adjust. He waits, stalking quietly, completely silent in his movements.

Jimin is not nervous about this handoff, mostly, he’s just wondering who it is in the family that's finally betraying her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t suspect that the conditions of this were a little too perfect. Money and all.

The main atrium of the industrial park is rusted up with age. Old metal shipping containers that used to hold smelting equipment or maybe molten metal long since rusted out even though the chains still hang from the ceiling. A suspended catwalk rings the room on all sides.

Jimin spends a few minutes casing the place, noting the exits, and the obvious places to hide. The old rusty fans at the apex of the roof turn and squeak softly from the wind outside. The whole place smells like chemicals and rust. It's all Jimin can do not to have a coughing fit.

It’s a wonder he doesn’t smell the blood sooner

(Trust me, I speak from experience. if you spend enough time around blood that's not your own, you’ll eventually be able to smell it. Even a drop in an empty room. like a hound the the hunt. You'll smell it.)

Jimin is almost done with logging the entrance and exits when he finds the body.

He rushes to their side, Jimin doesn’t recognize their face when he slides whats left of the traditional mask off their face, it's the same as his. Racking his brain to recognize the face but nothing. the masks is broken into pieces. A bullet between the eyes is a good shot.

Before Jimin can do anything, can decide if this is a setup or just a meet-up gone wrong, He hears footsteps behind him.

~-~

In the wake of Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin leaving, the rest of the pack is a bit forlorn. Jungkook is not so mobile, not so willing to make the trek upstairs. Worried about the stairs and any sudden seizures and all. But there is no shortage of cuddle spots on the ground floor, you've made many a nest in the living room before.

And besides, in such proximity to the kitchen, Jungkook can have all his treats this way.

Lately, it’s started to feel like the pack has several nests, the one upstairs, the nesting pod, and the one on the old grey couch when you shove all the pieces together. Yoongi indulges jungkook in half a bar of dark chocolate while you get some nesting materials. Blankets and your wet cheeks catching the dimmed lights.

You’re a little pouty and a lot quiet, and the others take note of it. Skimming comforting hands up and down your shoulders, always touching you like they’re making sure you’re there. They don't ask why you're upset at Jimin leaving. They don't have to wonder. you snap the blanket as you fluff it huffing.

Jungkook finds your angry nestmaking cute. he pulls you down on top of him nipping at your throat when you fuss a little too long. Testing out Jin's method of settling on you.

It’s surprising even to you when the action sparks tears in your eyes, the opposite he was hoping for. You rub at your wet eyes with a clenched fist stubbornly. It’s not even noon yet and you’re already crying. You're so exhausted by everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, so tired. You can't be blamed for getting a little teary-eyed.

Tae reappears, freshly showered. Her shoulder-length hair already starting to dry. tilting your face up to her's and says "Oh my little dove-

She piles into the nest and upstairs you hear Hobi moving around. tae stradles jungkook's thighs and shifts the two of you, lying you all flat,

"Don’t worry about Minnie, he’s always had something to prove.” You rub at your tears stubbornly, sniffling and nodding. Jungkook threads his fingers through the back of your hair, a little indelicately. But he loves without boundaries, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.

“But why-” your words are quiet but broken, “why does he always feel so-"

“Guilty?” Tae finishes for you, looking out the window in the direction that Jimin disappeared. Humming as she strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt.

Hobi appears at the bottom of the stairs smiling. "Are we talking about Jimin's guilt complex again?"

Your mate groans and finishes putting together a little snack board. "I swear we've probably had this discussion like- fucking 20 times?" Yoongi's not wrong.

You only get more teared-eyed, crying a little bratty, thumping weakly against jungkook's chest, he grabs your thigh and pulls you snug across his lap. "But why! Why does he feel like everything is his fault?"

Tae hides her sad smile behind a hand, and you're less upset looking at it. Calmed in a second, because they have talked about this you realize, everyone in the pack is well aware.

“I guess he feels guilty because," Tae sighs, "because he was so loved.” Tae's fingers dance along Jungkook's thigh, and you're all quiet. everyone is quiet when they hear tae talk about jimin. it's a little like listening to someone describe what it feels like listening to your favorite song for the first time, what it's like to taste your favorite food, the feeling of a first kiss.

Hobi comes close to tae, sets down a shirt and a pair of pants. "would you get them into this while i shower?" the curtains are drawn and hobi goes upstairs and Tae undresses you while she speaks. You're a doll, teary eyed and willing as she and Jungkook strip you and put you in clean clothes. You didn't realize how much you needed to not smell like hospital until it's done.

"The first love you lose always hurts you the most, whether that's romantic love or parental love doesn't really matters. Each person metabolizes it differently. Truthfully, I believe that Jimin lost love the first time and promised himself- never again."

Tae talks, playing with Jungkook’s hair. He pouts “he's never gonna lose us.” Tae hums, agreeing. But you can see in her eyes the sadness there. Wounds that might never heal and wanting that might never fade.

Yoongi sits down beside you and together, the three of you undress and dress Jungkook. He could probably do it himself just like you could, but he's a willing puppet, happy when Tae tickles his tummy and slides his shirt over his head.

A minute later, Hobi's back, wet head that drips onto your cheek when he leans over Jungkook's curled form to grab one of the grapes on the snack board that Yoongi made. And Tae stares off into space, thinking of Jimin, how they met and how they feel in love, everything between then and now.

Tae smiles just thinking of him. "i know that pup, he just- he can't let himself believe it no matter how much he wants too. It was really hard on him, how our parents treated us, Jimin has guilt built into him because they made him that way."

It's too simple of an explanation for what they went through. What does it mean to love a parent that hates you? Or at least to have a parent that does not strive to understand you. How many times did the words linger on Tae’s lips? Standing in the doorway wearing a little boy jersey and little boy clothes, listening to his mother talk about the things on the news.

Wondering, Mom, would you give up God for me?

Tae rests her cheek on her hand. Her nail polish has gotten all chipped, maybe she picked at it nervously while you were at the hospital. She has a habit of picking at it when she needs something for her hands to do.

“If Jimin had a religion- it would be love. And every time he feels even a little bit like he's not loving us the way he should, he beats himself up for it and guilts himself into loving harder, loving better. He considers a lack of love the greatest crime. So yeah, feeling guilty is par for the course."

Jungkook groans, tipping his head back against the sofa, “I’ve told him, I’ve told him a million times-“

“Doesn’t matter” Hobi interrupts, “he still hates it when he’s not there when you have a seizure. He's upset with himself, that's why he left. Giving him more love when he feels like he doesn't deserve it is like his worst nightmare.”

You think of the explosion. Of Jimin pining your body and putting himself between you and the blast. Maybe with Jimin it's so instinctual it's not even a conscious decision. You wonder if it ever gets easy, to make the decision to sacrifice yourself for the people you love. Does that make Mimin feel like he deserves them more? the sacrifice?

You don’t know if it would be as innate with you, You might have to think it through for a few seconds.

You don't like that. You don't like realizing that you'd need to think through it however briefly. You fear a world in which you don’t love him as much as he loves you, in which any of this isn’t reciprocal.

(But then again, most recipes have twice as much sugar as butter.)

You melt against Hobi’s side. “He shouldn’t,” you say, feeling useless, a little quieter, a little bit more upset. “He shouldn’t feel guilty, he loves us enough!” Tae’s hand rests on your ankle, and her laugh strikes high and sad.

Outside a mourning dove coos, a lonely soft sound.

“Trust me, I’ve been trying to love Jimin more than he loves me for my whole life. He wants to win the 'I love you more' debate every time.”

~-~

The Industrial Park is different than Jin remembers.

It rises a little more jagged against the surrounding area of 3-meter-high brush that disguises a network of other dilapidated sheds and half flooded buildings. Jin recites what he knows about this place; the facts.

An iron processing plant, decimated by the flood of a nearby river 2 dozen years ago and bought through a shell corporation. Vacant land with so many entrances and exits. A veritable hotbed and the perfect body dumping site. construction on a housing development delayed on account of how expensive the environmental clean up.

He scans the building for red paint.

He can be forgiven for not seeing Jimin’s car, parked on the fringes. The opposite side from where Jin came in because Jin had to stop at the office first. Jin can be forgiven for having his blinders on, so focused with single-minded intent that he misses some of the signs. The smell of gasoline drowns out Jimin's vanilla scent.

Jin sees the fresh footprints in the dirt and draws his weapon.

That's the whole reason why it took him so long to get here, (why Jimin got here first even though he left second) He couldn't just go into an unknown setting alone unarmed, he'd had to stop back at the office to grab his vest and his FBI-issued firearm, a standard-issue Glock 17. Forghein and unwelcomed in his hands.

Even Jin will admit that he’s not the best marksman, (Jin had barely passed his exam a few years back, and continually has to study and practice for his re-certification every 6 months.) Jin does not prefer to be armed. If he wasn’t alone, if he didn’t go by himself for this, He might not have brought his weapon at all.

Jin enters through the front door; the old hanger doors are already open. Feet crunching on the gravel. Jin can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, how hard he’s holding the gun, he’s never had to discharge it during a field excursion before. How unbecoming of a director, how green of him. He lacks this experience.

The tip of the weapon shakes because he's holding it so hard. Jin feels like he can feel the breath of unseen eyes on the back of his neck. Someone is here, he knows it.

Jin walks into the atrium, gun at the ready, turning the corner when he sees them.

One masked man is bending over another a body, already strewn across the floor and dead. the man's mask litters the floor in red shards. Jin sees the gun in the living man's hands, gloved, Jin snaps his hand up and aims before he can really take in the details of the scene.

“Stop! FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!”

The man at the other end of the room tilts his head and does not speak, red mask flashing in the half-light. There is a single breath where the man does not move, just looks at Jin with that tilted face. silent. But then he takes off, running like his life depends on it. bolting down a corridor and out of range of Jin’s accuracy on the best of days.

Jin fires a shot and misses. It hits the metal wall with a loud clink and a bright spark, ricocheting off into space.

Jin curses and takes off after the killer, skidding in the dust and bashing into the wall, gun banning against the door with a loud metallic clang as he slides through it, running from hall to hall trying to get a good shot.

Every time Jin crests a turn and tries to aim, the man rounds another, darting through the maze of hallways and shipping containers.

Jin has longer legs and is taller and faster than his target. He catches up to them by the stairs, the man turns and hesitates again. If Jin were less adrenaline high he might already realize they've tucked their gun away.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!”

The criminal bolts up the stairs and Jin goes too. Up and up and up onto the catwalk. Feet clangs against the metal, the suspended walkway sways under the force of their steps, The chains clanking.

And then, at the very end, he stops.

Jimin turns, casting one glance back at him. And hesitates, the mask catches the light again. And Jimin reaches up, about to take it off. The words, "Stop baby it's me." Already hovering on the edge of his lips.

He never gets the chance to say them. Jin’s finger finds the trigger, and the gun fires in a gorgeous explosion of gunpowder and force. Fire made small, and love made lethal.

Jimin hits the wall from the force of the bullet, hitting the latch at the back of his head.

The mask falls off.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Notes:

Everybody lives nobody dies.

Let me repeat that again NOBODY DIES, no one, not even Jimin. He’s just gonna be a little bloody from this, that’s all, before you get angry and yell at me.

I could have made this more convoluted, but I decided not too because…I simply did not want to stage a chapter between this one and the next one.

Jimin’s autistic meltdowns look a whole lot like mine do, I know they’re not typically what other people associate with meltdowns. But going nonverbal and stimming with your body (pacing) is very on par with me.

I felt like we needed to see a little bit of the jinmin dynamic before you know…Jin shoots him, just for funsies. And to talk about how Jimin loves.

A lot of people expressed a desire for Jimin to have some sort of concenquence for the way he treated Tae when she came out, just the part where he needed space, and for him not helping the m/c when he could have. I think this is his penance for that, getting shot by Jin, getting betrayed- however unintentionally- by someone he loves is the justice for those moments. I’ve always been stalwart on the fact that the bily charecters act sort of terribly sometimes because real people act terribly too, they’re dynamic in the way that they love and handle their actions.

On the subject of like- who framed what and explaining the events of the chapter, moonbyul and Hyejin are orchestrating everything. They pay Jimin MOSTLY because they know how suspicious it is and are trying to do anything they can to expose Jin to him. The scene in the industrial park goes exactly the way they wanted it too…accept that Jimin will live. They didn’t count on Jin being a poor shot lol

They are trying not only to manipulate the m/c away from the pack, but destabilize them to try and make the m/c come to them. Having one packmate kill another is definitely they way they wanted to do this. They’d 1000% just kill everyone if they thought that would give them the m/c but they’re attempting to manipulate her into coming to them rather than just abducting her point blank.

Funnily enough this is one cannon-cannon event of bily like, Jin was always going to shoot Jimin. If you go back and forth in other chapters you can see that Jin is almost constantly touching Jimin’s shoulder. It’s up to you if you think that Jin’s bullet got close enough to Jimin’s heart to kill him or if by some luck he survived

That’s a lie I can’t lie to you guys he’s 1000% going to live through this I can’t keep secrets from you guys, no one dies in this story even if it seems like they might at times we only have one more almost death to get through.

I feel like this chapter had less flowery language than my usual ones in part because it’s got a bit from Jin’s pov and also because everyone is so scared and frozen through the whole thing.

I cannot even begin to tell you how much less stressful the next chapter of bily is than my life, like i would rather GET SHOT AGAIN then be where i currently am, with the same level of anxiety that i have.

i wish i had time to edit this more but alas! its only 2 hours until i'll post this and i'm just finishing it up.

364 notes · View notes

delcakoo2 · 1 year

Text

ema’s fic rec’s ₊˚⏃⊹!

i decided to make a lil’ masterlist of fics i thoroughly enjoyed for you guys to also read and support these amazing authors <3 make sure to give them lots of feedback and love; do not be a silent reader T-T! also, there will be no social media aus or smut in any fics below. have fun!!

★ = ALL TIME FAVORITE !!

ENHYPEN !

⚠︎ yang jungwon:

http-do-you-luv-me? ★!!! (16k, jock won, e2l, f, a)

i have reread this masterpiece countless times and it’s p much my comfort fic T-T i could rant about it forever, even if u dont read enha/longfics just read RNNN, all time fav fs <3

for any price ★ (9.4k, assassin won, f, a)

saw assassin and clicked immediately jshsjs, very unique and exciting!! plus yeonjun is featured.. *stares*

in your dreams ★ (10k, dreamwatcher? won, e2l, f, a)

you cannot find any other fic like this one, very creative idea and has a bit of everything !!

love that blooms (demigod au, f)

chasin’ your pretty thoughts (22k, mindreader won, f, a)

lost cause (8.5k, classmate won, f, a)

would you be so kind? (3.7k, classmate won, f)

crepuscule (11.5k, vampire won, f, a)

closer (4.7k, ravenclaw won, f, a)

war tactics and kisses (demigod au, f)

attention, please! (9k, jock won, f, a)

⚠︎ lee heeseung:

always been you (16.5k, badboy/bestfriend hee, f)

my camp counselor is kinda hot (demigod au, f)

attention, please! (8k, jock hee, f, a)

⚠︎ park jay:

study lessons (12.3k, jock jay, f, a)

⚠︎ sim jake:

none for now <\3

⚠︎ park sunghoon:

the 7th sense (10.3k, dragon hoon, f, a)

marriage discount (2k, fake dating, f)

reasons to date (2.8k, classmate/friend hoon, f)

enchanted (3k+ ongoing series, prince hoon, f)

⚠︎ kim sunoo:

none for now <\3

⚠︎ nishimura riki:

sixteen eighty-five ★! (6k, e2l jock/newsclub riki, f, a)

another all time fav, everything about it is just what i enjoy in a fic and i could reread it over and over <33 niki is so mean but then so nice it’s just auhsjs aww

dear bus-noona ★ (0.8k, stranger riki, f)

i barely read short drabbles, but this was absolutely adorable and had me laughing and smiling even with just 800 words <3

kitty got your tongue (14.6k, assassin riki, f, a)

sucks to be you, sleepyhead (demigod au, e2l f)

all i want for christmas is you (5.4k, e2l, fake dating, f)

attention, please! (10.8k, jock riki, e2l, f, a)

lucky charm (2.6k, classmate riki, e2l, f)

behind the net! (9.8k, jock riki, team manager reader, e2l, f, a, plugging my own fic cuz why not)

⚠︎ ot7:

silenced ★! (20k+, zombie apocalypse series)

i just love apocalypse aus so when i found this i KNEW i’d love it <3 the boys are all so loveable and unique in their own ways and mc is so chill but also a badass <3 very high recommend!!!!

TXT !

⚠︎ choi yeonjun:

steal my heart (19.6k, royal + arranged marriage au, f, a)

i said “why won’t you forget?” (2.7k, runaway beomjun, f, a)

mr. vice president (7.3k, frenemies/academic rival yeonjun, f, a)

⚠︎ choi soobin:

actions have consequences (4k, lifeguard au, f, a)

⚠︎ choi beomgyu:

the prince and the jackal ★!! (11.8k natureprince gyu, f)

AAH ANOTHER ALL TIME FAV, i could talk about it forever, but it’s just so unique and close to my heart and the bantering is so cute, idc if u dont read txt read rn it’s amazing <3

the only exception ★ (12.4k, stranger gyu, f)

this fic is just so warm and homely? it made me smile lots T-T

i said “why won’t you “forget?” (2.7k, runaway beomjun, f, a)

favor (4k+ twoshot, classmate gyu, f, a)

⚠︎ kang taehyun:

none yet <\3

⚠︎ huening kai:

none yet <\3

EXTRA ! (i don’t read bts anymore, but i wanted to include these since they’re still favs of mine!)

so you wanna be the best ★ (8.1k, POKEMON TRAINER JUNGKOOK! f)

I GREW UP WITH POKEMON, DIGIMON ALL THAT. so when i saw this??? i genuinely screamed this. one is vv close to my heart <3

lifeguard ★ (12.6k, lifeguard jungkook, f)

this fic will get you to giggle at least once, istg one of the funniest fics i’ve read it is HILARIOUS i’m not over jk putting sunscreen on mcs back and her thinking it was tae the whole time T-T

thank you for reading!! again, make sure to give the authors lots of love :D

#ema’s recs #enhypen #txt #bts #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fic recs #txt imagines #txt fic recs #bts fic recs #enhypen x reader #txt x reader #bts x female reader #kpop fic recs

2K notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 1 year

Text

wicked • 15

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 13k

Previous | Next | Masterlist

tags: jungkook really loves grabbing mc’s throat, dirty talk, breath play, dom!kook, possessiveness, clit play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation (m & f), vaginal fingering, squirting, wet humping...? is that a thing? slight size kink

Note:I’m so excited to announce chapter 15! I hope you all love it as much as I do, inbox is open for asks and I would love to hear everyones opinions bc im sure yall are gonna be feeling some type of way by the end.

“How dare you accuse my maid of such a thing!” You hissed out from your seat, glaring into Di Jin with a venomous glare, “She is no such thing as an assassin and you should be utterly ashamed of yourself for even thinking of such!”

Di Jin slammed his hands on the stable snarling at you, “Then tell me why she’s been missing from several of her shifts the last month? The only person who would be able to get into your room late into the night with guards posted would be her? There was a second attempt, was there not?”

You shook your head, trying to not let your jaw slackened at the blatant disrespect, “Because I authorized it! Her mother has been deathly ill over the last month and I’ve given her time to be away from the castle to tend to her!”

Di Jin’s nostrils flared as he leaned back in his seat, as he stared at you for a long moment as if a predator sizing its prey, “What a convenient cover, tell me Princess, have you ever seen this sickly mother?”

“I-”

“Have you taken the time to track your servant’s whereabouts when she had stayed out even later than you authorized?” Di Jin growled.

“I will not have my wife being interrogated,” The doors opened once more, Jungkook who had barely been held back on the other side had managed to break in once more, his father still arguing with him, “Not if I have anything to say about this.”

Dae Seong had yanked him back by the shoulder, “You’re going to listen to me boy! Let him do what he needs to if you value her safety at all.”

Jungkook had retaliated by grabbing him by the collar, yanking him closer as he snarled quietly, “If you value anything we still have then you’ll let me be by her side.” Jungkook shoved him away before swiftly walking up to the table.

Di Jin didn’t even attempt to watch their squabble as he stood up from his seat, hands on the table as he leaned in, “Or have you knowingly let her do this?”

“Oh yes,” You sneered standing up as well, challengingly glaring back, “It makes much sense that I’d be the orchestrator behind my own attempted assassination. I may be an outsider and I may not know all the in’s and outs of Penumbra but I will not sit here and let you dictate to me who I am or who my servant is!”

Jungkook puffed a breath in satisfaction at the tongue lashing you were giving the old codger as he went to wrap and arm around you, “We’re going, if you’re finished.”

Di Jin’s nostrils flared at the interruption as you took Jungkook’s hand which had been extended in an offer to help you out of your seat.

“This isn’t over Princess.”

Your eyes burned into his, “You’re right,” You placed your hands on the table as you leaned in closer to him, your voice deathly quiet, “This is just the beginning Di Jin, tread carefully where you walk in these halls.”

Jungkook’s arm found its way around you once more as you allowed him to guide you out of the room, anger visibly trembling off your body as you tried with every breath to calm yourself down.

“We need to speak to the others.” You forced your voice to quiet as you both stepped out of the frigid room.

“I’ve already asked Taehyun to retrieve them all, we’re meeting in Namjoon’s quarters.” Jungkook answered steadily, “We’ll get her back Y/n.”

“I can only hope.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Namjoon shook his head as he looked through the records that covered the small table of his office where everyone sat, “It does look incriminating,” He frowned at your pitiful state as you rubbed your forehead, “And it doesn’t help that you’ve given her unsupervised access outside the gate’s Princess.”

You sucked in a harsh breath as you shook your head, “Had I known Di Jin was going to do this I would’ve had someone go with her…Is Taehyung’s word nothing? He helped her mother after all.”

“Seer’s are not allowed into politics and worldly affairs.” Jungkook shook his head, his hands resting on the arm’s of his chair but seemed to twitch at the way you restlessly shifted in your seat, sitting a hair too far away for his liking, “Even though Taehyung can consort with us in private, his words would be seen as invalid to the court.”

This made your lips quiver into a frown, the one person who could possibly save her was considered…invalid?

“Not only that but Taehyung could potentially jeopardize his position on the Guiding Hand if he tried to speak to court.” Hoseok chimed, leaning back in his chair in thought.

“And if Di Jin snoops about and Taehyung chooses to speak out regardless, he could accuse Taehyung of being another accomplice of hers, putting him in a cell right next to her.” Jimin seemed painfully sullen, his hand resting on his cheek as he frowned.

“What about her mother? Surely we could speak to her?” Hoseok asked.

“They’ve taken her into custody as well,” Jimin replied once more looking as though the whole situation disturbed him, “By possible accomplice of her, and since her mother has been cured of blood rot Di Jin suspects it was never there to begin with.”

Just his words made your hands curl in anger, “This is ridiculous!” Everyone looked at you as you hissed the words out, “What is the meaning behind this? Truly? There has to be an ulterior motive from Di Jin to accuse her of such a thing.”

It was silent for a long time before Namjoon sighed, “Many things are hidden to us right now, perhaps for a reason. All we can do is focus on freeing Wheein.”

“Still,” Yoongi grabbed his chin, “It would be worthwhile to see Wheein’s mother, and someone should speak with Taehyung about this, I’ve yet to see him since the whole incident.”

“I’ll speak with him,” You volunteered yourself, “I’m sure he’s taken the news hard, and I’d like to see too it personally to assure him that we’ll find a way to keep her safe.”

“I’ll go with you then.” Jungkook also spoke up, “Taehyung has likely not taken the news well, and knowing him he’ll want to speak with me directly.

You frowned at this, your heart dully aching at the thought, “The least I can do is apologize to him for letting this happen.” You looked away from Jungkook as you heaved a deep sigh, “This is my fault after all.”

You just wanted to be kind…especially when it was something you could help with, how could it end this way? Wheein had been nothing but kind to you the moment she introduced herself, and this is what she got in return.

Had you been looking at Jungkook you would’ve seen the way his fist curled, aching to reach out to you, to do something, anything to try and ease the severe stress and guilt you were under right now.

It was silent for a long moment before Jungkook spoke, thinking over his words carefully before he redirected himself to the men at the table, “Namjoon, I want you to look back in past schedules of who was on rotation during the nights Wheein went out and I’d like you to speak with them if you feel they’re allegiance is with the Jeons.”

“Hoseok I want you to keep track of Di Jin from now on, try to be covert about it and Jimin…” Jungkook looked across the table at Jimin who seemed to be staring at the wall, as if purposely ignoring the prince, “I know…your relationship with him is distant at best…” Jungkook frowned, “But if there’s any way you could talk to him, make him believe you're on his side…we need to figure out why he’s doing this.”

“Jungkook…” Jimin sighed softly, looking at war with himself and for a brief moment you were confused until you remembered the words Wheein ushered to you many months ago.

‘Jimin was the bastard son of the Head of the Guard’

The pieces were all slowly fitting together, Di Jin having been the old head of guard, which meant he was Jimin’s father…You sunk in your seat, oh dear what a mess things were quickly becoming…

Jimin relented, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook’s words were sincere, “There’s nothing else to discuss at this time, don’t let me hold you all from your duties.” He waved to them all as everyone stood up, yourself included as you made your way to the exit.

Yoongi opened the door for you as you quietly thanked him before stepping out, an odd absence filling your chest at the realization that Wheein was no longer escorting you to where you went, nor would she stay with you when you asked her too.

The rest of your day felt like a void, you still had your duties to attend to the project in the Market, you had to talk and be social with various businesses, walking them through their future new stores and making arrangements with various vendors about what to get for each shop.

The day had passed before you knew it and yet all you could think about was Wheein, her tear stained eyes and whimpers when you saw her.

It snapped your heart like a twig to even think about, out of everyone, why did Di Jin have to choose her as his target? It just didn’t make sense. And you firmly believed you were not being fooled here, Wheein had been easily the kindest person you had ever met in Penumbra.

Arriving at your and Jungkook’s room it was quiet and chilled in the room making you tremble as you shut the door, only a few candles lit making it difficult to see as you glanced around, realizing you had nobody to help you change.

Your eyes glossed over as you inhaled sharply, you could call for another maid, you should call for another maid. But your stubbornness wouldn’t let you as you stretched your arms towards your back, trying to haphazardly undo the back making your muscles begin to ache and twitch as you huffed.

This went on for several minutes before you finally stopped and frustratedly dropped your arms letting out a quiet sob as you pressed your hands on your eyes, the one person who you trusted with your entire being was being falsely accused of your own attempted murder.

Stress filtered your body once more as you hurriedly tried to push back your tears at the sound of the door opening.

Jungkook had a handful of papers he was reading through when he walked in at the unsightly mess of you halfway dressed and the unmistakable look you always had when you were crying.

He lowered his papers as he looked at you for a long moment.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your eyes filled with tears once more before you finally gave up trying to hold them in, closing your eyes as you defeatedly let the warm tears trickle down your cheeks.

Jungkook sighed, setting the papers down at the desk before he walked over, “You look pitiful.” Standing in front of you he gently cupped your cheek, pushing the tears from your cheeks, “You should’ve called for a maid.”

“I have a maid!” You hissed out, “And she’s in a dungeon right now for something she didn’t do!” This made you weep once more as you shook your head, “Why would they do this Jungkook? Why? I don’t understand! There isn’t a soul sweeter than Wheein, why would they claim the assassin was her?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook frowned, “But if I had to take a guess, it’s because they want to place distrust among us from the inside,” Jungkook replied steadily, “If we can’t trust even our most loyal servants, how can we trust each other? The seed of doubt eventually blossoms in its own time. I’m not sure how, but the Rosewood’s are most likely the cause of this.”

He gently turned you around before he began to undo the back of your dress, albeit a bit clumsy, but with patience the material slipped off.

“Not only this but if we let this distract us they might be stirring to do another attempt soon.” Jungkook frowned as you turned to face him, “If you die in Penumbra it’s going to trigger a shattering throughout the entire continent. War will be all we know until we’re the last kingdom standing.”

“If that's what it takes for Wheein to live I will gladly die.” You inhaled sharply.

“You will not.” Jungkook grabbed your chin harshly, his eyes glaring into you at your words, “I know you miss her, but crying about it and being unnecessarily self sacrificial isn’t going to get her back.”

His words stung, and the prick of hurt they caused made you shove his hand away, “You may be right but you don’t have to be so cold about it.”

Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he scoffed, “Well princess, somebody needs to tell you, otherwise god only knows what you’ll do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You snapped back, not appreciating his bluntness right now, you had come to terms with the fact that Jungkook was nothing like that last love you had known, Seokjin was always dripping in honeyed words and sweet nothings.

He loved to coddle you and dote on your feelings. Jungkook did no such thing, you had for the most part become accustomed to this, but in these moments of vulnerability it stung having your feelings coldly told to stop.

“It means the last time you let your feelings overcome your logic this happened.” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your hand and lifting it as he shook it, the marks on your hands still freshly healed and scars evident, “You were unconscious for two days Y/n. Two days! If you hadn’t been so emotional you wouldn’t be wearing gloves every time we step out of this room.”

It was silent for a long moment as you snatched your hand from his grip as if he had been the one to burn you, eyes watering now but they were glaring at him in hurt and anger and he let out a long sigh, as if realizing he perhaps, went too far.

“As a Eunoian, we are kind and expect no kindness in return. You might look at me as nothing more than an emotional woman, but I would never turn anyone away who needs my help, that is not who I was raised to be, that’s not who I am. Yes it scarred me and no I may not remember all of those events, but I know I helped, I know I made a difference even if it was only for a few people and I will not let you stand here and chastise me over it.” You stared at him for a long moment indignant.

How could he stand here and insult you like this?

Jungkook looked away from you with a briefly strained expression, and you were familiar with it because he always made that face when he was holding his tongue, it made you scoff, “Well you might as well say what you want too, go ahead, get it off your chest since I’m being so emotional.”

“You know what you sound like right now Y/n?” Jungkook chucked bitterly, “You sound like a martyr,” He pointed a finger low at you, “Nobody is asking you to do that here, not a single person. Whether you like it or not you’re the Crowned Princess, your life does matter more then a peasants because the whole fucking world decided to weaponize the little Eunoian Princess nobody would dare hurt as a political tool to make us heel like a bitch.”

Your lip twitched at his words, “Oh I’ve been well aware for the last three damn years what I am to the world! Don’t stand here and try to educate me on that, I knew from the moment I was told I had to marry you that my life didn’t matter more than just being a good bitch to the crown!”

Your eyes watered once more, “That’s what you said on our wedding night and you were right. But it doesn’t change what I believe or how I feel and if that makes me a martyr then so fucking be it! I watched as my own people sent me away with smiles on their faces all pretending as if they hadn’t exiled me from my own country as if I hadn’t given up my studies as a young girl to aide as a healer during the five year war as if I wasn’t allowed to eat if the people were hungry and when we were supposed to celebrate our holidays, we stopped to mourn the burning piles. I knew since I was a child that my life didn’t matter to anyone aside from what I could do or what I could give.”

“It fucking matters to me!” Jungkook’s patience had finally worn, you were suddenly pressed against the wall, his hand wrapped your throat with the most delicate grip as his forehead pressed against yours, “Don’t you get it you stubborn, hard headed woman? Your life matters to me, I don’t care about any tradition or belief you have if it has anything to do with dying. I just got you, I’m not letting you go.”

It was silent for a long moment as you felt his thumb tenderly trace against your windpipe as you sniffled.

“You could’ve just said that without picking a fight. And you didn’t have to be so mean,” Your eyes stung with tears, “Your words do hurt, I know crying won’t get Wheein back, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified of what they might do to her.”

Jungkook’s expression softened ever so slightly as you closed your eyes, a few stray tears trickling down your cheeks, “I would never cry with anyone else like this, so let me do it with you, let me share the deepest parts of my heart with you, my deepest fears and concerns, my doubts and insecurities. You say you want me, that you don’t want to lose me, then show me you want me, all of me, even the parts you don’t like, even the parts you hate.”

“I could never hate you.” Jungkook ushered out quietly, his hand moving from your throat to your cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He kissed your tear stained cheek somewhat hesitantly, “I’m not used to navigating feelings, or emotions, or women…” This made a small smile tug on your lips, one he mirrored briefly as his hand moved to your chin with a little squeeze, “But you talking about willingly letting yourself die makes me upset, anxious and angry, the rest of the world might look at you as nothing more then I tool but I don’t. So value your life, because I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, Wheein would be the first to agree with me.”

It made your lips quiver painfully as you glanced down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a martyr, but I would do anything to get her back Jungkook,” Your throat strained painfully “Anything.”

Jungkook kept having these impulses every time he looked at you when you were sad, and he hadn’t noticed it until today, but finally, he caved into the feeling of just wanting to hold you.

His arms wrapped around you, letting your head bury into the crook of his neck, your body relaxing into him as he pressed a kiss against your head making your arms squeeze around him tighter, “I know.”

You were already scared and upset with the whole situation, you didn’t want things to be worse if you and Jungkook couldn’t settle your own arguments in the process.

You had hoped maybe a good night of rest would make you feel better, but opening your eyes had only made you feel worse and Jungkook had taken a bit more of a gentle approach today at trying to get you out of bed.

“We’ll need to speak with Taehyung before the morning is over.” Jungkook laid beside you as you tugged the blanket back over your head, rolling your back to him, “He’ll be busy tending to whatever the Seers do during the day. Y/n,” He sighed in exasperation, “I don’t mean to sound like a cunt when I say this but sulking is not going to help. And refusing to talk isn’t helping me.”

Your hands curled around the blanket as you relented with a sigh, “I just…feel overwhelmed by everything, life has to continue on even if Wheein is in the dungeon and even if Di Jin keeps harassing the castle.”

You turned back to face him, “It’s not that I don’t want to do something about it, it’s that I have so many other things I don’t want to do that I have to do, that so many people are counting on me making sure I get it done. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about starting the day knowing I can’t dedicate all of my time to finding a way to help Wheein.”

“There’s only so much you can do about that situation regardless princess,” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest as he buried into the crook of your neck, “I’ll make sure everything goes accordingly with Wheein.”

You still let out a sigh, curling a little at his hand dragging from your waist down to your thigh as he whispered in your ear, “You wanna know what will make you feel better princess?”

“What?” You mumbled, your curiosity peaked at his tone.

“An orgasm.”

“Jungkook!” You immediately sat up right as you twisted around at the cheeky grin on his face, “This is what you want to focus on when we’re in a situation like this!?”

Jungkook shrugged, “Well I don’t see anything wrong with it, as you said before, life has to continue on and I’m being honest,” He sat up with you, “The first step to getting anything done is letting yourself relax, this is stressful enough as it is, you shouldn’t make yourself anymore taxed then necessary.”

His lips attached to your exposed shoulder, your thin slip that you seemed to wear more often to bed these days didn’t do you much service as the thin strap fell off your shoulder. He moaned softly into your skin as his hands slid to your waist, “Let me make you feel good. Consider it another apology for last night if you must.”

You felt obligated to say no, feeling guilty for even feeling desire at the moment when you were in such a perilous situation, but your head betrayed you, slowly tilted upward to expose your neck as his kiss traveled up, leaving a small trail of love bites along the way.

“Is it…really okay to do this?” You whispered.

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Jungkook pressed a small kiss on the lobe of your ear, “We don’t have too, but I do think it would make you feel better.” You glared at him playfully as he winked.

You shifted a little before you sighed, “Well, what would you have us do?” You shifted a little nervously, there would never be a perfect time to get further intimate with Jungkook, and you would admit, something to take your mind off of things would do you some good, even if for a few minutes.

Jungkook sat up before letting his back rest against the headboard as he gestured you closer, confused you scooted a little closer to him only for his hands to attach to your hips making you squeak in surprise at the way you were suddenly jostled.

You were roughly manhandled into his lap with your back pressed into his chest once more as he pressed another tender kiss to your neck, “Tell me Y/n, have you ever touched yourself before?”

The question caught you off guard making you sputter, “I- what?” You could hardly focus at the sight of his hands resting on top of your thighs, how could you be married to him for nearly nine months and only just now realize how big his hands were.

His fingers were long and thick and his palms were rough and calloused against your soft skin, his fingers curled around your inner thighs, “Have you played with yourself before,” Jungkook let a wicked smirk curl on his lips, “You can’t tell me you haven’t ever been curious about your body.”

Had it always been this warm in the room? Because it felt like you were burning up at the moment, “I mean yes but- I wouldn’t…Call it playing.” You tried to not squirm in his hold as he suddenly parted your legs, your night slip hardly covering your panties.

You had been curious about your body in the past sure but you had never really understood the idea of sexual interest, and therefore you never took part in it, not understanding what the big deal was about.

Jungkook let out a hum as he let his hand stroke from your inner thigh that had you twitching, to your night slip hooking a finger against the fabric as he lifted it, it didn’t take but a small movement to reveal your panties, a shameful damp spot revealing how much your body was receiving him.

“You like this?” He teased lightly, a hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing lightly making a breathy noise escaping you and your legs instinctively parted further for him, “You like putting your cunt on display for me?”

“Jungkook…” You had to shut your eyes at the lewd sight, your shoulders scrunching in embarrassment, why did he have to be so crass?

“Take your panties off.” Jungkook’s voice a few tones deeper and a little raspier than normal as his grip on your throat tightened making a more strained moan escape you shook your head, “No?” He snorted at your defiance, his free hand stroking your thigh down to your cunt making you jump before he cupped it, his palm digging into your clit making you whine out sharply.

Your hips lifted immediately, trying to grind into his hand unsuccessfully.

“If you want me to play with this pretty clit you have to take the panties off sweetheart,” Jungkook said, amused at the sight.

“Jungkook, this is embarrassing!” You whined quietly to him, “What if somebody were to walk in right now?”

“Let them.” He scoffed, “See if I give a damn who watches. In fact I hope somebody does,” Jungkook’s grip suddenly tightened on your throat making you wheeze a heady moan as he growled in your ear, “So they can see who you belong to. I wasn’t lying when I said this was my cunt, so take off the fuckin’ panties and show me who it belongs too.”

The sudden guttural demand in his voice had you scrambling to obey as you shaky fingers curled around your panties, peeling them off before you awkwardly kept your legs closed. This however changed quickly at Jungkook’s hands, once more finding their way to your thighs as he pried them out making you whimper out at the cold air seeping against your cunt.

“Fuuck.” Jungkook moaned against your skin and you could feel his heavy, thick cock harden against your lower back, “Your soaked baby. Look.” He didn’t give you a choice as he grabbed you by a thick chunk of hair making you whine as he forced you to look down.

Your face felt like it was on fire at the sight of your body contorted in such a lewd position, your cunt was indeed on display and for a brief moment you couldn’t think of something more unsightly than this.

This was what men were attracted to? Your lips were puffy and parted covered in stickiness, pubic hair sticking out unfrayed and your clit was engorged, throbbing at just the fact you were actually able to look at it.

Jungkook’s lips pressed in your neck with another moan, “Fuck princess, you have such a pretty cunt, and nobody has ever played with it at all?”

“No,” You whined out, “I already told you Jungkook, I’ve never been with someone intimately, at least for myself. Do you have to..stare?” You felt self conscious on display like this.

“When it looks good enough to eat how can I not?” Jungkook scoffed, his free hand unable to resist the urge to drag along your sticky slit, your cunt puffy and wet as his fingers reached your clit.

A moan suddenly strangled through your parted lips, whining softly at watching his digits circle your clit as your hips buckled into him with another whimper as he moaned, “Fuck baby, you’ve never touched your clit?” He said it as if he was genuinely in confusion at how you possibly couldn’t have touched yourself before.

“I have,” You whimpered out, “It just didn’t feel good.” It didn’t feel like this, that was for damn sure, just watching his fingers skillfully glide over your clit at your back trying to arch, before they quickly started rubbing back and forth, playing with your clit like it was a little toy.

Jungkook switched from that to suddenly squeezing it between his pointer finger and middle finger, making another raspy, desperate noise escape your hips started to lift up to chase after the friction, “Jungkook please! Please don’t tease me.” You whimpered out desperately.

Jungkook chuckled at this, releasing your clit from his fingers just to pinch it once more with his thumb and pointer finger, “You’re so needy, every time I try something new you moan even louder.”

He pinched it even harder making you yelp at the painful pleasure that washed over you before he roughly circled it again, “Keep moaning sweetheart, it lets me know what you like and what you don’t.”

That's when you realized he meant what he was saying, his eyes were low but inquisitive, as if trying to figure out what made you tick, what made your body squirm the hardest, what made you moan the loudest, your body was a map he was determined to not only study but memorize.

Your hand frantically found his as you whimpered, “Right there! Kook, right there! Please.” The pleasure had your muscles clenching as the pad of his finger kept rubbing that sweet spot on the side of your clit that had your back arching and whines becoming increasingly loud.

Jungkook chuckled in your ear, “Look at you, using my hand to make yourself cum, that’s a little greedy for a Eunoian. Are you gonna cum princess?”

He watched, mesmerized by the way your body contorted and bounced as you grinded against his fingers, which were completely soaked in your arousal as he feathered his pad over your sweet spot.

The straps to your slip had finally fallen to your shoulders, causing your top to finally slip down, making your tits fall out as you fell apart on his fingers, your eyes squeezing shut and your body convulsing at the pleasure that was blossoming so quickly in your cunt.

“Cum baby, I know you want to.” Jungkook teased, “I know that little clit feels good, let yourself cum princess.”

Jungkook let out a grunt at the sight of your lips falling slack, moans suddenly ripping from your throat as you whines became high pitched, hands suddenly clawing at his neck, yanking at his hair as you came.

“Mmm what a good girl.” Jungkook moaned into your neck, his cock throbbing so hard he felt like he could pass out, it was one thing to imagine these types of moments with you, but to actually be able to experience them was a different kind of pleasure he didn’t even know could exist.

Your mind was so hazy from your orgasm you hardly noticed his fingers stroking your cunt before a single digit circled your entrance, playing with it a little as Jungkook carefully coated his finger in your arousal before he pushed in it.

“Ow!” You suddenly yelped in a very unsexy way, jolting up right and out of your hazy post orgasm feeling as you whimpered out at the sight, “Jungkook! Ah…! It hurts!” You whined in complaint, his finger felt foreign inside of you and just like you knew, it was thick and bigger then your own and the stretch made your cunt dully ache.

“Wow, so Seokjin really never touched you?” Junkook said it as if he was examining to see if you were actually telling the truth.

You lip curled as you snapped, “Did we not establish that I was a virgin on our wedding night? Why are you so hyperfixated on this?”

“Because,” Jungkook rested his chin on your shoulder, pulling his finger from your cunt making you sigh in relief as he dragged it back up to your clit, tapping it, “The idea of anyone- let alone him getting to see this makes me want to travel all the way to Kimhae and fucking kill him.”

He pushed his finger back in but much to your surprise it didn’t hurt, you seemed almost taken aback by this, watching in morbid fascination as his thick finger sunk deeper into your cunt, your legs parting a little further for him.

You moaned quietly at his finger testingly pushing up before he thrusted it a little inside you making you whine as your hips lifted and lowered a little to chase the feeling.

“Just the idea of him getting to see this pretty little fucked out face makes me livid,” Jungkook whispered, unable to even be angry at the moment before of the expression your wore, your pupils were blown out and your lips parted at the sight of his finger now rhythmically pumping into you before he pushed a second one in.

It made you wince at the uncomfortable fit, before Jungkook pulled both fingers out and pushed them back in making your lips tremble at watching them sink deeper and deeper into your cunt, your walls clenching around him as he buried them both until his knuckle were flush against your skin.

“Fuck…” You whimpered out, closing your eyes at the overwhelm of being able to feel his fingers so deep inside your cunt, Jungkook, “‘s not fair, wanna make you feel good too…”

“Sweetheart, shit, you are so fucked out on my fingers, imagine what it’s gonna be like when you’re taking my cock.” Jungkook moaned in your ear, feeling your walls wrap tight around his fingers at his words as he pumped them in a little rougher, making a point to rub his fingertips against the top of your walls.

It felt as if he was searching for something and you didn’t realize what it was until you felt it, his fingers pushing particularly deep this time, hooking as pleasure suddenly shot through your body making you lurch and a loud moan rip from your lips.

“Fuck there it is, that’s it sweetheat.” Jungkook’s fingers viciously began to attack this spot, rapidly lifting into the spot as his thrusts began short and rough.

The pleasure had you contorting in painful positions as you whined slurred words out, “Wanna make you feel good too, Kook! Please, please!”

“Dammit sweetheart, this is supposed to be about you.” Jungkook growled in frustration at how hard his cock was because you kept moaning about this.

“Wan’ it.” You whined out moaning loudly, his fingers unforgivingly hooking into that spot roughly, you could feel his other arm against your back maneuvering in awkward ways and though you were very pleasured it was difficult to not notice.

You didn’t understand what he was doing until you saw it, or more like it saw you. His cock suddenly appeared just inches below your cunt, it bobbed a little, smacking against you making you jolt in shock, even with pleasure still blossoming in your body your mouth dried.

It was so…big

You had felt it before but you had never seen it, and it was so thick and fat, just like his hand, his cock had the prettiest thick vein and it curved just slightly, his head was fat and bulbous, a painful shade of red showing just how hard he had been this whole time and precum kept dribbling from his slit.

“You wanted it that fuckin’ bad.” Jungkook grabbed your hand before, guiding it past your cunt to wrap around his cock, “Wanna’ feel that wet little cunt.” He guided your hand to give it a few tugs, before he lowered your body a little, your cunt pressing against the top base of his cock, making you let out a breathy moan.

His fingers started properly thrusting into you once again as you body twitched, eyes nearly rolling back into your head at the stimulation of the feeling of his fat cock being covered in your arousal, your hand giving sloppy, frantic tugs against his cock making him moan into your shoulder.

Your hips quickly start trying to rut into his as you grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers out of your cunt as you rubbed it against his shaft, letting your clit press against it with a loud whine, reaching down to squeeze his fat balls.

“Fuck, fuck fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum.” Jungkook moaned into your neck as his hips started to rut into you, his eyes hazily watching his cock slide between your glossy lips, arousal messily covering his cock as his tip roughly dragged over your clit making slurred moans escape you.

“Wan’ you to cum.” You mewled out watching in desperation at the idea of this being inside of you, how would you even be able to take it without being torn in half? His fat tip reached your belly button.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, holding it against your cunt as Jungkook’s hips became more frantic, “Gonna fuckin’ cum all over you if you keep saying that sweetheart.”

“Cum! Cum, cum please! Wan’ you to cum all over my cunt.” You whined and begged at the sight of precum dripping from his tip.

Jungkook swore out with a growl, his hands digging into your hips, “Bet you wish this was your cunt right now I was fucking, this little cunt is so tiny I don’t even think you could take half of my cock sweetheart.”

“Kook!” You whimpered out at his forceful, frantic thrusts, one hand lifting your leg up further as his fat tip rubbed past your clit once more.

“Oh don’t worry baby, I’ll fuck you in this exact position.” Jungkook smirked wickedly against your neck, “I’ll make you watch every fuckin’ second of it too. Fuck princess,” He moaned his hips began to slow, eager to drag out the last moments before he’d finally cave, his cock sliding through your lips once more, he could feel your engorged little bud as he bulbous tip rubbed against it making you whine before let out a deep moan.

Cum spewed from his tip as your mouth dried at the sight, his thrusts stopped in nirvana but your hand kept tugging his cock in awe, wanting every last drop he had to offer as he moaned wetly against your skin.

His thighs clenched as he moaned, “Fuck princess, that’s it, yeah fuck, just like that.” He moaned encouragingly in your ear as you stroked his shaft, causing another gob of cum to spill from his tip, this time dribbling down onto your stomach as you reached down further to play with his fat soft balls while using your other hand to tug at his base.

“Fuuck baby.” He moaned into your skin his cock trying to soften but he showed now signs of stopping you despite the increased sensitivity before a spurt of cum shot out before he started swearing out, biting his lip as the pain and pleasure heightened.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan at the pain of your hand wrapping around his cock, roughly thrusting as he jolted and jumped but at no point did he stop you, in fact he seemed to enjoy the pain and just like magic, you watched his cock start to harden again.

Growing just as monstrous as it was before.

You moaned raggedly before you shifted a little, setting yourself upright before dragging your cunt along his shaft, your hips dragging against it with a loud moan as Jungkook growled out, “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again baby, relax.”

You let out a breathy giggle, collapsing your back against his chest as you spread your legs once more, resuming your original position as you pressed his cock back against your cunt, pumping it rapidly, his muscles twitched rapidly before his hips caved.

Roughly thrusting up into you again as his cock slid between your cunt once more before cum suddenly spurted once more, covering your already messy stomach in even more cum as you moaned, gently tugging his cock to coax more cum, it dribbled and leaked, not nearly as big of a load this time as Jungkook moaned his hips swiveling to prolong his orgasm.

His cock began to soften and his hand suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop from trying to get it up again, “This was supposed to be about you,” Despite his post orgasm haze he still growled in displeasure, “Fucking brat.”

One moment his hand was wrapped around your wrist, the next it had released it and shoved two fingers inside you, suddenly fucking you hard and fast making you whine out loud, his thumb somehow managing to rub into your clit causing your back to arch and a loud moan to escape.

“Yeah? Doesn’t fuckin’ feel good after the first one.” Jungkook taunted you as he roughly thrusted his fingers inside you, his thumb teasingly circling your sensitive clit as your thighs twitched, your eyes glued to the way he was buried knuckles deep into your cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, kook, ah…! Ah.” Your whines were getting louder and louder much to his delight, your walls getting tighter and tighter each time his fingertips jammed into your g-spot and his thumb found that sweet little spot on your clit with each pass.

“Doesn’t feel nice cumming so fast does it?” He growled out, “Go, cum like you made me. Get it everywhere. Can feel this little cunt squeezing around me, you gonna squirt all over the bed? Bet you don’t even fuckin’ know what that is babydoll.”

The pleasure was becoming so strong it started to become uncomfortable in your cunt, your walls suddenly began to rapidly relax and squeeze at each of his fingers thrusts, his fingertips rubbing into your g-spot and his thumb dragging over your clit.

“Feels weird! Kook’ ah..! You whimpered out, body frantically contorting and your cunt blossoming in a weird pleasure.

“I got you sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, “‘s gonna feel so good princess, c’mon ‘s gonna feel so fuckin’ good.”

You rapidly shook your head, your walls rapidly clenching and your muscles spasming as Jungkook’s thrusts became short and rough, his thumb rubbing rough circles into your abused clit, “Cum.”

The single word made a scream rip from your throat, tears tricking down your face as you came, liquid suddenly spewed from your tiny hole as Jungkook moaned, “Good girl, fuck, get it everywhere baby, fuck yeah, that’s it.”

The pleasure was so intense you were in tears, sobbing out moans as his fingers pulling out of you, to rub your clit making you throw your head back against him before his fingers shoved back inside you rapidly thrusting making more liquid spew from your hole as your body convulsed, “F-fuck!” You cried out loud.

You were positive you blacked out for one blissful moment before Jungkook released his fingers from you with a long moan, his hands comfortingly rubbing down your waist.

“Fuck princess,” He kissed your neck with feathery kisses, “My good girl did so good. Good girl.” Your eyes felt heavy at the feeling of his kiss.

Just his words drew a whine from you, his hands coaxingly rubbing your thighs as he pressed a wet kiss against your neck, “Mm, we need to get dressed.”

“You can’t just do this to me and then leave me.” You whimpered out, grabbing hands to wrap them back around you once more.

Jungkook snorted at this, another kiss traveling further up your neck, “We’ll be leaving together in case you forgot.”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

“You are, without a doubt, the most stubborn women I’ve ever met.” Jungkook mused, “And possibly more than I ever bargained for.”

You could indeed walk, though a bit awkward at first while Jungkook helped you dress, it didn’t surpass your eyes, the tug on his lips in amusement with every wobble or need to grab his shoulder to stabilize yourself.

If this was the aftermath of him only using his fingers, you can’t possibly imagine when he…Just the thought made you suck in a deep breath. Jungkook eyes flickered to your form, your arm hooked around his as you both made your way through the castle.

“Have you noticed?” He asked, eyes lingering on you only for a moment longer before looking ahead once more.

You could only assume he was insinuating at everyone’s stares and whispers.

“It’s rather difficult to not.” You muttered.

After exiting the courtyard and passing through the meadow to the entrance of the forest, only after you passed through the tall oak tree’s, did you feel you could breath. The sound of birds trilling and the sun lazily peaking through the naked branches gave you a sense of peace you had nearly forgotten about it.

Leaves crunched beneath your feet as your eyes wandered over the vastness of the forest that seemed to stretch on and on, now that the tree’s were naked it seemed the forest was so much more barren than before.

“Does it look like this? In Eunoia?” Jungkook asked, noting your gaze that seemed to wander.

“Somewhat,” You admitted, “Winters are mild at best in Eunoia- at least in comparison to Penumbra. The most we get is a bit of a frost on the coldest days, just enough for leaves to fall- not all though. Many still stand their ground.”

“Frost on the coldest days?” Jungkook’s head snapped to look at you as if you said something bizarre.

This caused a reluctant smile to tug on your lips as you curled your arm around his further, “Yes, some have called Eunoia the capital of the Sun. Our days are always sunny and warm, we’ve never known a true winter.”

“I can tell,” Jungkook replied, his eyes drifted from yours to your attire, “Is that why you’re dressed like it’s already snowed?”

You looked down at the thick warm sleeves of your dress,they were dramatically long, going far past your hands though a slit made it easy to use your hands if needed, the color a deep maroon that could be mistaken for black if one didn’t pay attention.

“There was frost on the ground this morning.” You replied, a huff escaping your lips, “I suppose the odd looks the servants gave me when I requested my winter wardrobe make sense now.”

You were too embarrassed to admit you were still cold, even in a winter gown, your dress even collared around your neck, making you feel admittedly strangled but any warmth was welcomed.

“How will you survive winter here if you can’t make it past the first brisk frost without one of the thickest gowns in your wardrobe?” Jungkook mused, making you glare at him, a pout sporting on your lips.

“Thickest gowns? This?” You gestured to yourself making him chuckle as he shook his head, “Well that simply won’t do at all, I’ll go to the seamstress myself if I must, I may be married into Jeon royalty but I don’t carry your northern blood.” The pout was still prominent on your lips, “Your brisk day is one of Eunoia’s coldest days, need I reiterate?”

Jungkook shook his head but the smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, “As if you didn’t have enough gowns as it was, I’ll be sure to let the seamstress make your request known.”

“Well you’re the one that handles my wardrobe,” Your pupils narrowed, “Now that I think about it, why shouldn’t I be the one in control of it? After all, I am the one wearing them.”

“Because i’d like to think in someways-” You gasped at suddenly being pushed against the thick, tall oak that stood proud, “You enjoy giving me control.” Jungkook’s hand snaked around your head, grabbing a fist full of hair as he gave it a small yank, “If your display this morning was anything to go by.”

“Jungkook.”

It was not your voice who said his name however, within a second Jungkook had let you go, the air around you both sobering by the second as Jungkook looked over his shoulder, “Taehyung.” He nodded, a frown setting on his lips as you somewhat flusteredly brushed off your dress.

Just seeing the look on Taehyung’s face made a tidal wave of guilt wash over you. How could you stand here and act like a girl with a crush when someone’s life was at stake?

You peered from behind Jungkook and one look was all it took for the sickening feeling to rush back into your stomach once more, Taehyung looked vehement, his eyes tired and anger evident if his icy glare was anything to go by.

“Have you both come to celebrate? Now that you’ve finally captured the assassin.” Taehyung’s lip twitched as his eyes burned into you.

“Celebrate?” You echoed in hurt, immediately stepping past Jungkook, “Taehyung I would never celebrate this! We are doing everything in our power to get her back I-”

“Well you were the one who let her go to begin with,” He hissed out lowly, his glowering from his hooded figure, “How am I to know that maybe this wasn’t just a calculated tactic?”

You felt your throat dry at his words, it was one thing to handle Jungkook when he was being unfair to you, but how would you deal with another? Let alone one of the first of Penumbra’s kin to show you kindness.

“Calculated tactic?” The hurt in your voice was evident, making Taehyung’s nostrils flair.

“Yes, after all rumors of you-”

“Enough.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the air like ice, an arm wrapped around you pulling you closer to his side, “We’ve come in grief and sobriety to apologize this is happening and that we are going to get Wheein back. I understand you’re upset, within reason to be,”

Jungkook’s pupils narrowed as his voice grew as cold as the chilled wind that blew by, “But heed your words to my wife and your future Queen.”

You were too stunned to even speak, hurt still expressed on your face at the insinuation that you had purposely done this to her, you would never!

Taehyung’s lip twitched, “Is that a threat, Your Highness?”

“My words are plain,” Jungkook replied, his eyes cutting low, “Take them as they are, we’ll leave you to be.”

“That would be for the best.” Taehyung’s hood lowered if only a little, those gray eyes glaring into you and even when you walked away from him you could feel his gaze burning into your back.

To say you were horrified, was an understatement.

While Jungkook did not wish to depart with you he had reluctantly done so, but not before trying to ease your distraught at Taehyung’s words, what was he going to say if Jungkook had let him finish?

It made you anxiously pick at your nails, hardly able to even focus on your book as you heard a voice clear making you glance up. Namjoon gave a small bow and a sad smile, “How have your studies been coming along Princess?”

“Terribly,” You admitted with a sigh, “How do you not let something consume you Namjoon?”

It was a rhetorical question you had been asking yourself all day as you stared up at the ceiling, murals of battles painted in glorious displays, ones you had seen while walking in but had never paid attention to until now.

“I think,” Namjoon paused as if to gather his thoughts, “Love is a worthy contender to be consumed by.”

This made your gaze shoot back down at him as you cocked your head to the side as he smiled wryly, “Apologies, I enjoy a good tragedy every now and then. Love can consume, but it can also save, you should honor your emotions where they’re at. These are unprecedented times.”

“That is a particular choice of words.” You mumbled staring down at your book but no matter how hard you tried, words were simply words, not a sentence nor a passage that gave your mind any relief to its occupied thoughts.

“They are, but it’s the truth,” Namjoon frowned as he looked away, “Princess…” He paused as if debating his words, “Many things are afoot right now, the expansion on the East has officially been put on hold, the west is stirring with restlessness, and now Di Jin has been enlisted to reopen a fresh wound of Mabon.”

“What is it you are trying to say Namjoon.” You sighed as you looked up at him, you wished everyone would stop speaking to you in riddles, why was it you could not hear Taehyung’s full words? Even if they were hurtful, you had the right to know.

“I am saying…that though we may not fully understand why these things are happening, to be prepared Princess.” Namjoon gave you one last smile before he stood up and gave you a small bow before departing.

You sank further into your seat as you let out a small sigh, “Fucking hell.”

“That kind of language is not befitting of a Princess.”

You jumped upright in your seat once more at the voice that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, your eyes darted to your right where the beautiful- yet ugly sight of the Rosewood Knight Claudin appeared from.

“Are you here to just mock me?” Your voice grew cold as your eyes glared at him, time may have moved forward but his attempted assault on you and siding with Seohyun was not easily forgotten.

This made a thin, snake like smile tug on Claudin’s lips, “Anything but, Your Highness.”

Your hands slowly curled into fists as your patience wore thin, you had been known by your family to have a temper your whole life- this was without a doubt true, but to consider violence? This was a first, and right now Claudin’s face was looking more and more like a punching bag each time he spoke.

“You’re tired of everyone speaking to you in riddles? Isn’t that right?” Claudin strolled closer to you making you frown but did not speak further. He paused for a moment only to smile once more, your curiosity was piqued.

“Then let me speak plainly to you Princess,” He kneeled down in front of you, “Penumbra’s trust in you is failing, immensely with each passing day. They no longer trust you. Dare I say some never did.”

It was an ugly truth that made you want to vehemently deny it, “What have I done to warrant this!? I have done nothing but try my best to become a Penumbrian.”

“I know Princess,” Claudin’s voice is oddly soft, as if laments for you, “But it is not what you’ve done, it is what Eunoia has done.”

“...What of my homeland?” You frowned, your gaze weary and catious, could you truly trust anything that came from this man’s mouth?

Jungkook hadn’t mentioned anything about Eunoia to you.

Claudin frowned at this, “I thought you would’ve heard Princess…” He paused for a moment as if gauging your reaction, “Eunoia has enlisted their kingdoms people into fortifying an army with Kimhae.”

“Eunoia would never-”

“I am merely telling you what’s been running rampant on the streets,” Claudin replied calmly, still kneeled at your feet, “Telling you what nobody else dare does, you want plain words, here they are. It’s come across to Penumbra, that Eunoia is conspiring with Kimhae. Why else would they need an army?”

“What source did you get this from?” Your lip twitched in anger.

“Source?” Claudin smiled in humor, “This is common knowledge Princess. Or has the Prince just really kept you this in the dark? And from your own kin at that...”

You don’t even know what possessed you in the moment but your temper had finally gotten the best of you, slapping him right across the face, “Enough! I won’t listen to any more of these lies of your weaving,” You stood up, towering over him as you glowered, “I don’t know what game you’re playing Rosewood, but it’s going to get you killed.”

“But these are not lies Princess,” Claudin gritted his teeth, his hand grabbing your wrist making you try to yank away, “If you do not believe me, then perhaps you should go out into the streets yourself. Learn the truth nobody else in this castle will tell you.”

You only managed to escape his grip from wringing your hand from the silk black glove you wore. The material still in his hand as you briskly walked out of the room.

What did he know anyways? Eunoia, conscripting an army? Only the coldest day in hell would see that through.

Even long into the night you still laid awake, mind restless as you shuffled in bed, laying down as you glanced at the dark hair of your husband who had been exhausted from the day, soundlessly sleeping beside you.

His hair was darker then you remembered upon first meeting him and it was a fair bit longer too, now brushing over his lids as he slept, moving a little as if discontented, his hands extended out in reach of something.

Your eyes stared at his hand, only an inch away from where it had been resting on your waist previously before you had shifted for a little space to move about without disturbing him.

Just because you couldn't sleep didn’t mean he didn’t deserve too.

Had he really been withholding information about Eunoia from you? You had been aware from the beginning that being in the castle kept you isolated to a certain degree, and that you would slowly become out of the loop of politics of the outside world due to being an outsider and Jungkook’s wife.

But you…something swelled in your chest, there was no denying you and Jungkook had grown close over these last few months, if you both sharing a bed willingly every night was any assumption to go on.

So surely he would’ve told you this information had he known it, and he would have to know this, because he was the Crowned Prince, heir to the throne, which meant, Claudin was surely lying.

Yes, Claudin was simply lying to get under your skin and weasel his way to further his agenda, whatever that was.

You closed your eyes contented, intending to shuffle a little closer to Jungkook once more, who’s brows were pinched, still in a sign of discontentment.

‘Meet me in the Fool’s Barrel at past 2 if you seek the truth’

Your eyes snapped back open at the memory of the single sentence left on a piece of parchment at your nightstand earlier before you finally got up, quietly standing before you glanced back at Jungkook, the night was long after all, and surely he wouldn’t miss you in the time you’d be gone.

With that you shuffled through your wardrobe for something suitable for the occasion before going over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, grabbing the sheathed knife from his stand before pressing a gentle kiss atop of his head.

The parchment was rolled tightly in your grip and your dull brown hood was pulled low as you managed to sneak out during the guards rotation and Yoongi was talking with a fellow guard at the corner of the corridor.

The halls were dark and dim and just as this morning you felt stifled here, at the gates of the courtyard did you finally consider that this was reckless, if not entirely stupid.

Did it truly matter whether you knew or not?

Your hand nearly crumpled the paper in anger, it did matter to you, it was your right to know what people thought of you, good or bad, and nobody had the right to keep that from you.

Your hand ghosted over the dagger strapped to your waist before you fixed your hood once more stepping outside the gate.

The tavern was lively and bustling, unshocking for this hour, nobody paid you any mind with your hood as low as it was, unsuspecting that they were amidst their princess, searching through the tavern, the very same one you had made a total fool of yourself in earlier in the year, you found the person you were looking for.

Claudin was leaned against one of the wooden beams, a hood on himself and a cat like smirk coiling on his lips as he held up your missing glove, “Here to take my offer Princess?”

You snatched it from his hand, “If you so much as even put a hand on me, I will slit your throat.” You whispered to him.

This made him chuckle as if amused, “So the Eunoian bitch really does have a temper to match the title. Follow me Princess.”

The Eunoian Bitch.

You weren’t that familiar with the title until you had come to Penumbra and your husband had made you well acquainted with it, and though you never inquired further about it to Wheein it wasn’t difficult to tell how the title had come about.

You wouldn’t deny your temper, Jungkook had gotten to see it in full force when you first married, the title once upon a time insulted you but you had grown past it at this point, you wouldn’t be insulted, it seemed men loved to call you a bitch because you were not a pushover.

Men were allowed to throw tantrums all the time without the blink of an eye, Dae Seong was living proof of it and yet nobody gave him a title for it.

You had followed behind Claudin closely as he exited through the backside of the tavern and led you down the increasingly narrow halls of the city that you didn’t even think existed, it was as if he was leading you to something of secret.

And after Claudin had weaved and webbed his way through these increasingly dark and unsettling alleyways did you realize, this was exactly what he was doing, you heard the commotion before you saw it.

Exiting the alleyway to reveal a well lit area of what looked like a crowded market place, though the stalls could hardly be seen as such.

Claudin looked up from his hood towards ahead and then at you, “Welcome to the Underside. If you want information, this is where you shall find it.”

Your eyes had gone wide at all the spectacles as you followed beside Claudin, fixing your hood a little lower as you watched a man breath fire from his mouth and the loud cackling of women before the shouts of a thief that shoved between you both.

It was clear, you were in the belly of Penumbra’s criminal activity, just the thought made your hand ghost over the wickedly curved dagger strapped to your hip. You had never shed blood other than your own before, you had taken an oath to never kill when you had first become a healer during the five year war, not only this but as a part of the royal family of Eunoia you had to vow that not only would you never kill but you would never devour as your earlier predecessors once did.

You could hardly stomach the sight of watching someone be killed, let alone killing someone yourself, but Penumbra had a certain way of hardening you these days. After all, you did just threaten to slice Claudin’s neck open if he tried anything on you.

This was unsafe, and surely reckless, but you wanted answers and you wouldn’t back out now to get them. Claudin seemed delighted by the sternness in your expression, refusing to back away from the danger of this perilous situation as he guided you through the rowdy streets.

Rounding the corner there was a crowd ahead making you tilt your head as you glanced at Claudin who only nodded ahead, both of you coming closer to the spectacle that you immediately deduced was a mockery of…you.

Your lip twitched in simmering anger at the mockery dress and hair of a man who’s voice pitched high, annoyingly so as he flounced about with the narrator, vacillating between ditsy and vexing.

“This is how they view you,” Claudin leaned in at your side as the crowd cackled at the man, “A predator dressed as prey, a Eunoian spy, here to cause our downfall.”

“Now whatever shall our Bitch do!? Attempted murder afoot but wait! What is this between her breasts!”

Your expression was deadpan as you watched the man grab a scroll from between his fake set of breasts, one even falling out revealing a bundle of cloth making everyone gag, “Ahem!” He coughed out high pitch, unrolling it as he read, “Oh dear husband! It appears my kingdom is on our borders! How could you not have seen? This was my plan all along!”

They placed a crown on his head which warranted boo’s from the crown, “Down with The Eunoian Bitch!” Someone cried from the crowd.

You shook your head unable to watch any longer as you brushed past Claudin, eyes darting between the various sights on the streets, a group of four men continuously kicking a young boy, the prostitute against the wall with a man, and on the far side a crowd of people cheering as they threw darts and knives at wall, a poor imagine of your face as the target.

“You’re upset.” Claudin followed after you with a remark.

“Of course I’m upset!” You hissed out, whirling around, “I’m being accused of something I didn’t do! My entire country is being accused of something we didn’t do- haven’t even done! Take me back to the castle.”

Claudin shifted his foot with exasperation but was cut short with the cold metal pressing into his neck, “I said take me back to the fucking castle, now.”

Claudin held up his hands in a mock of surrender, “You and your husband share an odd similarity of barbarously threatening me.”

Your lip twitched and your grip on the blade didn’t relent, “Maybe if you weren’t such a cunt that wouldn’t happen to you. Castle. Now.”

“If you so wish, my Princess.” Claudin resisted no more as you sheath your weapon following stiffly behind him the whole way home.

A spy…they thought you were a spy sent by Eunoia? You had learned to ignore the slanders thrown your way, but to have your whole kingdom’s credibility question? As if Eunoia didn’t house the fallen kingdom of Seoul? As if Eunoia wasn’t held responsible and damn near torn apart by the continent when Penumbra raised?

It was beyond just an insult, it was treasonness to even think about it.

The castle was…much busier than when you had left, Claudin departed with you at the gates as you dismissed him, arriving by yourself only to swear at the sight of your knight walking towards you with hell's fury.

“Where the hell have you been Princess!” Yoongi hissed out, grabbing your arm vehemently, “Do you want the Prince to kill me?”

“Shit,” You ushered out, “What’s happened?”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, “You mean to ask what’s going on after you snuck out past hours without telling me or anyone else, let alone your husband, what’s going on?”

You deserved to be reprimanded, you knew that much but that didn’t mean you wanted to deal with it, you groaned, “Did he call for a search?”

“Of course he did, Jungkook nearly had my head on a pike when I told him I thought you were with him,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “Where were you?”

“...” You said nothing for a long moment, your expression troubled as you sighed, Jungkook was not supposed to wake up to find you missing, how were you supposed to tell him you went into the depths of a crime ridden area only to discover many ugly truths tonight, ones he had most likely kept hidden from you.

“Where did you go Princess?” Yoongi ushered, now concerned.

“I went to the Underside.”

“Fucking hell!” Yoongi ran a hand through his head again, “Do you know how incredibly stupid that was! Without anyone to protect you!? Penumbra may not be as pious as other kingdoms but rumors still run rampant.”

“Yes,” Your gaze grew cold, “I’ve become aware as much.”

Yoongi frowned at this, and you could tell by the look on his face he knew, they all knew, didn’t they? “Come along Princess, let’s get you into the parlor, the others are trying to keep Jungkook from ripping the city apart to find you.”

You felt a stab of guilt at his words as you followed alongside him into the castle where residents all gawked at you as you kept your hood up, covering your face from their judgmental looks.

Yoongi weaved his way through the corridors before the doors of the parlor were opened, the first person to whip around being the distraught figure of your husband.

“Y/n.”

Your hood was pulled down before he immediately embraced you, his muscles which had been previously tensed had relaxed as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “You worried me sick,” He chastised you, “Where did you go? You should’ve told Yoongi- better yet taken him with you!”

Jungkook cupped your cheeks as he pulled you away a little to inspect your face, making sure you were uninjured, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, lips quivering only a little in both hurt and confusion at everything you were digesting.

“Where did you go, Y/n?” Jungkook asked you once more, this time his voice was a little more calm, releasing you upon hearing you try to clear your dry throat.

Walking over to the table where a pitcher of water was, you poured yourself a glass, glancing between your husband to the two other figures in the room, both his aunt and uncle, Areum and Jeong Dae as the least wanted person at this time walked into the room.

“Ah what coincidental timing.” Di Jin had walked in behind you, everybody's eyes staring at him for a long moment, “Because I just received word that the Princess was spotted coming out of the Underside.”

The room erupted into worse chaos then you could have expected. “My wife would never step foot in that pit you caused.” Jungkook snarled out.

“It’s true.” You muttered, unable to see the two men baring teeth at one another and despite your low tone it caused silence throughout the whole room.

“Out. The lot of you, these are matters for the family only.” Areum’s voice followed after you as her eyes narrowed on both your friends and servants alike and with that everyone departed.

“Feeling honest, are we Princess?” Di Jin looked haughty at you.

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was wrought with anger, though it was obvious he was trying to keep himself calm, “Why?”

It was like the dam you held your anger in snapped out, rushing out and into every vein in your body as you slammed your cup down, “Why don’t we talk about how everyone’s been keeping me in the fucking dark!”

Everyone looked taken aback by your heated glare, “Talks of Eunoia raising an army and sending me as a spy while consorting with Kimhae!?” You spat out glaring at all of your in laws.

And the oddest thing happened, it could’ve been a trick of your eyes, but you could’ve sworn you had seen Jungkook visibly flinch at the words.

His eyes were like steel as you glared at him.

“And you knew it! Didn’t you?” You pointed an accusing finger at him as he looked away from you.

Di Jin let out a loud laugh bringing your attention to him, “Well let’s be honest here dear, everyone in this room has suspicions of you being a spy.”

“Stay out of this.” You snapped, “My affairs with my husband are no concern of yours.”

“Oh but it seems they are.” Di Jin had a sneering smile on his face as he held up the paper he held in his hand.

“Di Jin.” Jungkook’s voice was low in warning.

You snatched the paper from his hand before Jungkook could even stop you walking away from him and closer to the fire, the only noise being the snaps and crackles as everyone looked at you tensed.

The more you read the tighter your grip became as Di Jin spoke, “Interesting, how even your husband assumed you were a spy? Was it not?” He hummed innocently, “I’ll be watching you very closely from now on girl, lest a case of treason be opened against you.”

Your eyes only glared down at the paper, Jungkook’s royal emblem no mistake and the date an even harsher blow to your heart as tears of wrath began to blur in your vision, “Leave. Now.”

Di Jin frowned at this, perhaps hoping for a more expressive reaction from you, as if he was trying to get you to dig yourself a hole, but you would not submit yourself to that, you would not allow him to weave his little web of instigation any further.

“You heard her Wolf.” Areum frowned deeply, walking to stand in front of him as her eyes burned like coals, “Your duties are done for the evening..”

“You're welcome.” Di Jin sneered one last smile before exiting.

The door shut quietly behind him as your lips quivered and your nails nearly torn through the paper, trying to calm your breaths down but truthfully, you were rendered speechless. Everything you had become accustomed to, the delicate, tender blossom that was slowly growing between you and Jungkook felt as if it had been abruptly yanked from the ground and stamped under a boot.

Jungkook had grown anxious at your expression, you were abhorrently livid, if your body language was anything to go by, “Y/n,” He finally sighed out, “What did you expect me to do? It’s no secret that the court has doubted you from the very moment-”

“This isn’t about the fucking court!” You hissed out, every ounce of self restraint thrown out the window as you marched over to him, “This isn’t about Di Jin, this isn’t about anyone but you! What the fuck is this!?” You cried out shoving the parchment into his chest, pain wrought in your expression, eyes glaring with rage and betrayal, “After everything we’ve been through together!?”

You ran your hands though your hair trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart, tears vehemently stinging your eyes as you shook your head, “I’ve have bared my soul to you, again and again, I- I have tried my best to understand Penumbra, your culture, you. For months! And I…”

You closed your eyes, letting the defeated tears trickled down your face, “I genuinely believed that you…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the words that squeezed too tightly in your throat, a sob finally bubbling from your lips, “Why!?” You whimpered out, finally staring at him, “Why did you not tell me about Eunoia? Or the rumors, or…or any of it!”

It would be one thing if he had this investigated when you had first arrived in Penumbra, but he didn’t, this was recent, too recent. All of your fresh memories with him spiraling in your head, the intimacy you had nervously shared with him.

“Because, what if it was true?” Jungkook’s jaw clenched, “I don’t take any pleasure saying that Y/n! But I needed to be sure that you weren’t playing a game with me.”

Your lips trembled in disbelief as warm tears dripped down your face, “No I said those words to you!” You pointed an accusing finger at him, “I asked you those same words and you looked me in the eyes and lied to me!”

“I wasn’t lying to you!” Jungkook immediately hissed back, “I’m not in a forgiving position! I needed to know you were on my side for certain and those words I said were not a lie! I don’t expect you to understand, nor do I expect your forgiveness, but I did what I had to do!”

You stared at him for a long moment in disbelief, tears dripping down your chin as Jungkook sighed, cupping your cheeks as he brushed the tears away, “I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you, and the feelings I have, it’s all real.” He pressed his forehead against yours, “But you can’t expect me to have zero doubts in your credibility, you were going to marry the Prince of the kingdom that took great pleasure in slaughtering my people.”

“That isn’t fair Jungkook!” You tried to bite back your sob, your heart as if it was being torn to shreds, “Everything you’re saying isn’t fair! You know it isn’t!”

“Life isn’t fair and it isn’t kind Y/n,” Jungkook frowned at the new tears that dripped down your face, “I’m only sorry that I’m the one having to tell you this.”

“Fuck you!” You spat at him, shoving him away, “Paint it how you want, but it doesn’t change what you did, you choose to not trust me. You choose to have me investigated and you choose to look me in the eyes and tell me this was not a game to you.”

“Y/n-”

“No.” You snapped sharply, looking up at him as your voice trembled softly, “Me and you, we’re done. You’re right, you don’t deserve my forgiveness nor my understanding. The only thing we have left is the fact that we’re both bitches serving the same crown. You are nothing more than a liar Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.” Jungkook shook his head, his jaw clenching.

“I mean every fucking word.” You seethed.

You turned around, shoving the doors open to the room as you shoved the tears from your eyes, everyone had looked at you in baited breath but you only walked over to Yoongi, “Take me to my room. My room, please.”

Yoongi had parted his lips but said no more, doing as you asked as you shoved the tears from your eyes, trying to pick up the broken pieces of your heart that laid cracked and shattered from Jungkook’s heartless words.

He really was as wicked as they said he was.

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au fic

1K notes · View notes

chimcess · 10 months

Text

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed.

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me.

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from.

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free.

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen.

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it.

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves.

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore?

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone.

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5.

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail.

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea.

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate.

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool.

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back.

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person.

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick.

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well.

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too.

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs.

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me.

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment.

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights.

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything.

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless.

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked.

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when?

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly.

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain.

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief.

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer.

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought.

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets.

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist.

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well.

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly.

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds.

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell.

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes.

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in.

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats.

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor.

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited.

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly.

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure.

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties.

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me.

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after.

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily.

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it.

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty.

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say. I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements.

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly.

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while.

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do.

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed.

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had.

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed.

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily.

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table.

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me.

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered.

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps.

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise.

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside.

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it.

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me.

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food.

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly.

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn.

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more.

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there.

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York.

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest.

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast.

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied.

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless.

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage.

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease.

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front.

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble.

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one.

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background.

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry.

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan.

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there.

Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something.

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture.

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease.

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room.

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus.

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be.

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything.

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched.

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me.

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that.

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt

698 notes · View notes

daegustae · 10 months

Text

lion’s den | jeon jungkook

pairing ; mafia boss ! jungkook x assassin ! reader.

genre ; mafia!au, smut, angst | one shot

summary ; your mission was to kill jeon jungkook until it became something more.

word count ; 5.8k

warnings ; smut (18+), fingering, clit slapping, slight rough fucking, hickeys bigdick!jungkook, some dirty talks, choking, voyeurism, explicit language, unprotected sex (yall do it without the un), mentions of blood (not too extreme), blackmailing, use of guns, daddy issues.

a/n ; im backkk pls let me know ur thoughts on this one :D

¯¨’*·~-.¸¸,.-~*’ •·.·´¯`·.·• `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.· •´`·..íì..·´`•

You walk down the familiar hallway, the sounds of your shoes echoing, getting the attention of the guards waiting at the end of it, you take a deep breath as the door you curse your whole existence opens revealing a fancy and clean office clearly opposite from the one who owns it.

You despise the man sitting behind his desk, looking at you with a smirk that you wish you could wipe off his face. The room reeks of cigarette and alcohol, you crunch your nose in disgust.

“Have a seat” he motions with his hand signaling you to do as he says

“Just tell me what I have to do” you cross your arms tightly, impatiently tapping your feet on the expensive hard-wood floor, refusing to sit, making him narrow his eyes at you.

“Are you really going to disobey me now?” his tone threatening, you send him a death glare doing as you’re told. He hums in satisfaction, lighting up a cigarette before inhaling the smoke and exhaling it right in front of your face after. This fucking old bitch, You close your eyes tightly, holding back from killing this man right here and then.

“Where is he?” his eyebrow raises at your question, tilting his head as if contemplating whether to answer you.

“Do this job and I’ll tell you” you growl slamming your hand on the table in which he didn’t flinch, his grin only getting wider taunting you.

“Give him back and I’ll do it” your heart aches at the thought of his little figure, scared and confused about what's happening without you by his side.

“Not happening. He should be the least of your concern right now, kill this man for me” He says putting a photograph of a man on the table for you to look at. He looks young, clean and pretty even but you can never judge a book by its cover. You can’t help but notice the piercings on his eyebrow and lips. Few of his tattoos are exposed, who is he?

“Jeon Jungkook. Son of my greatest enemy. As you know, his father died last year with my own hands, and now he is taking over. I would just let him live, but he is taking my customers, recruiting the best people even those idiots who I fired. You know, very bad for my business. He’s building an empire and you have to stop it.”

“Why me?” eyes narrowing as you look at him with hatred

“He doesn’t know you, in fact no one from our enemies knows you. You’re my greatest possession, dear I made you for this very mission. Also you’re pretty, he likes pretty women.” You clench your fists by your sides. Loathing at how he sees you as an object that can be disposed whenever he pleases, like you were born to be one.

You stand up without a word, stopping to your tracks as you near the door. “And if I fail?”

“Oh you won’t, you don’t wanna see his tiny corpse inside his favorite backpack, do you?” You stomp your way back to his table, grabbing him by his collar with your hands.

“He’s your son” your words echoing around the room

“Not biologically.”

“I’m going to kill you after this.” you tell him sternly pulling him close as you look him straight in the eyes. The eyes that you hate the most knowing it’s the same as yours. He laughs loudly completely unfazed by your threat

“Do your mission first eh?” You drop your hold gritting your teeth before walking away.

“Oh and take care, my lovely daughter.” He yells from behind you, your nostrils flare with one thing in your mind. Burn this place down.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Your father tells you through the small earpiece, you roll your eyes. Fixing your hair making sure it covers your ear and the earpiece which is almost pea-sized.

“If you shut up, then I won’t be as distracted” you snap, you nod at the person who opens your door. Dusting off your black long dress that hugs your boobs and body perfectly. The thigh high slit on the right side and simple jewelry you’re wearing completes the look.

You scan the area, putting on the half black lace mask on your face. Who the hell still even throws a masquerade party?

You nod at the security guard, showing the invitation you were able to forge easily. A crowd of people soon fill your vision. It’s dark and big but the only light that is provided is from the disco ball and bar.

You make your way to the corner of the room, observing the people around you. If you were a normal person, you would have just simply thought this was an elegant and good party. But you weren’t, so do the people here. Few of them could be murderers, hell you already assumed everyone in this room has at least killed one or two people in this lifetime. Everyone here is dangerous.

“Find him” the annoying voice orders. You crouch down, pretending to fix your heels, making sure the gun you strapped on your calf is still there and will stay hidden.

“I am trying, why did you have to send me to a masquerade ball? I could just kill him in his sleep” You bite your lip looking for your target. The lighting is a good cover-up but it makes your work harder knowing everyone is wearing masks, you can’t just spot him in one go, or so you thought.

“I’m telling you this is now or never, we won’t get a chance as close as this.” He warns

“Shut up, turn this off if you have to.” Your breath hitch as you spot a figure on the second floor, his sleeves are rolled up revealing some of his tattoos, his arms are leaning on the railings, looking at the crowd below him. Looking at you. It’s not hard to find him considering that he carries this aura you can’t put your finger on. You gotta blend in. You curse under your breath, looking away as you make your way to the bar to get yourself a drink. That’s definitely him.

“Straight up” you tell the bartender thanking him as you get your glass. You glance at your target, only to find out that he’s disappeared. Fuck where did he go?

“Looking for someone?” You jump slightly from the voice behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck reminding you of how you are with each other. You take a sip of your drink, the taste of whiskey immediately burning your throat, composing yourself before responding.

“Are you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrow at him. He chuckles lightly, putting his hand on your lower back to pull you closer to him. You gasp, grabbing his shoulder with one hand the other on your drinking glass.

“Straight up? You're supposed to drink whiskey on the rocks” He tells you, taking the glass out of your hand for him to finish your drink as you frown at him, watching his every move. This is your chance. Don’t fall for his antics.

“No you’re supposed to drink it with your own preference, now if you’ll excuse me” You remove his hand on you, widening the space between you both before you find yourself walking away from him. You look over your shoulder subtly, making sure he’s following you. Just like what you planned.

“I prefer you entertaining me” He pulls you into him, your back hitting his firm chest as you feel his hands touching your hips delicately but with pressure. The feather of his mask tickling the side of your face as he brushes your hair to the side, his breath on the back of your neck feels like electricity making you tilt your head to the side giving him more access.

“I’m not a whiskey” you lean your body on his, almost losing your balance as he turns your body around making you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Don’t you know me?” you can see his quirk eyebrows, his flirting tone not faltering though. Your face only inches away, lips hovering but not completely meeting each other. The masks clearly are a bother for you both.

“Should I know you?” You are so close you could feel the heat of his body. Your hand making its way to the nape of his neck.

“No, but you’re about to.” you gasp softly as your lips connect, slow and then desperately. You pull away catching your breath, he takes off his mask knocking the breath out of you, god he’s pretty that picture didn’t do him any justice. He put his finger under your mask tapping it as if asking for permission to take it off. You nod. This wasn’t part of the plan but I guess I can improvise.

“Never seen a pretty girl like you before.” He presses his lips against your neck, making you moan and pull his hair before he’s chasing your lips again. His hand wanders through the slit of your dress, palming your pussy making you jolt in surprise. The other on your back, keeping you steady.

“Fuck you’re so wet already.” he growls nipping at the juncture between your neck and shoulder that for sure will leave marks. And you can only suppress your moans, grinding on the hand that’s between your legs. His warm fingers tracing your clit through your lace underwear, putting pressure then pulling away teasing you.

“W-wait here?” You shriek quietly, holding his wrist. Afraid that you might get attention from other people especially now that you both don’t have your masks. He chuckles looking at you with lust.

“Look around angel, no one’s paying attention” You do as he says watching everyone minding their own business. Either too busy dancing or doing god knows what with this poor lighting room. “Tell me to stop and I will” You can kill him later.

“Don’t” He towers over your body, hiding you from the crowd with his broad figure. You feel him set your panties aside, as you both stand in the corner of the room. You watch him retrieve his hand, gripping your chin to bring your face closer to his. Tapping your lips with his tattooed fingers.

“Open” you open your mouth, Jungkook inserting his two fingers inside. You look at him directly in the eyes, licking his fingers delicately, before he has them shoving down your throat choking you.

“Fuck I’ll let you have my dick in your mouth, next time” he swears taking them out and thrusting his fingers inside you with a warning. You keep your thighs shut earning a tsk from him. Slapping your pussy sending you in shock.

“Keep them open” You let out a loud moan in surprise, feeling his fingers stretch your walls. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, kissing his lips sloppily, leaving kisses on his neck to his jaw. Leaving your prints all over his skin to suppress your moans.

“Oh g-god” you meet his fingers, grinding and tightening your walls as you chase your orgasm. “S-so good”

“Yeah?” pride is evident in his voice, pushing his fingers knuckle deep inside your pussy. His thumb rubbing your clit in the process.

“J-just like that please I’m gonna cum” you beg

“C’mon princess wet my fingers” you arch your back, Jungkook leaving sloppy kisses on your chest as you release. Feeling your slicks runs down your legs. He helps you gain your balance as your legs shake in pleasure. You watch him bring his fingers in his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you. Licking the remnants of your pleasure.

“Delicious” he gives you a satisfied smirk “Let's get to know each other more, yeah?” squeezing your butt one last time before dragging you across the room.

“Jungkook” He tells you his hand enveloping yours as he leads you out of the crowd to the hallway upstairs. He looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow at you expecting you to say your name.

“Doesn’t matter, this is only a one time thing” He nods at your response before continuing to walk,

“What the fuck are you doing?” a hiss from another line calls out, you scratch your ear, jungkook won’t hear him with this distance, you try to catch up to him as the noise from the party fades away, reaching another hallway with guards waiting at the end of a door.

You gulp already calculating your moves and keeping in mind your exit points in case you get busted. You make it to the door, moving closer to Jungkook as the guard attempts to check you.

“No need to search her, she’s with me and your job is done for the night” You quietly let out a sigh of relief, watching the guards eye you up and down before Jungkook’s pulling you inside. You don’t have time to scan the room as he immediately pins you against the floor-to-ceiling window. Your back makes contact with the cold glass, sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls down the top part of your dress fully exposing your chest as the strap of your dress fights for its life to stay on your body. He quickly devours your nipples, giving each a lick before sucking them. He continues his assault on your breasts, nipping at the skin under to leave marks. You moan as you pull his hair in pleasure earning a growl from Jungkook. He leaves sloppy wet kisses about to go down further making your eyes widen.

You cup his jaw with both hands stopping his ministrations. He raises his eyebrow, standing up straight to look at you with concern. You almost got hypnotized goddamn “What’s wrong?”

“Just .. just fuck me” you beg masking your surprise with lust, if he finds your gun down there then it’s all over. You hastily unbutton the black sleeve shirt he has on, throwing it somewhere and gulping at the sight of his abs. He quirks his eyebrows at you, chuckling lightly before nodding, completely oblivious of your plans.

“As you wish” he quickly pulls down his trousers and underwear just enough for his length to be set free, you almost drool with how it slaps his stomach. “Condoms” he mutters to himself. You shake your head the sooner you’ll start, the sooner this will finish.

“I'm on the pill” as if something pushes his button, Jungkook turns your body around your hand laying flat on the window glass for balance.

“Be a good girl, yeah?” His voice sends shivers down your core, you lift your dress, just enough for him to see your behind, but not enough to notice what you are hiding. You’re both horny, he won’t notice.

“Mhmm” setting your panties aside, you both moan in unison as he presses inside your tight cunt slowly, his long and huge girth stretching you in every way possible.

“So tight.” He growls, the lack of condom only adding to both of your pleasure as you feel his veins. You look at him through the glass window, watching his face contorted in pleasure. You look ahead of you, if someone decides to get some air, they would clearly see you and Jungkook from there. Jungkook notices you being distracted smirking like he knows what you’re thinking.

“You like the idea of being watched?” you can only moan, breathing heavily. Only realizing that you have someone listening to what’s happening on the other line. “Fuck you just got tighter” You clench on his dick even more, getting turn on by the moment. Jungkook’s tattooed hand makes its way to your neck, tightening the grip just enough to cut off some of the air from you. The other on your breast to keep you still and pull you closer. You yelp, hand on the back of his head pulling him possibly even closer.

“I-m gonna cum” His thrust becomes rougher, every thrust feels like he is arranging your guts. His balls slapping your ass. He grabs your chin from the side, nibbling your earlobe and giving your lips hard, and deep kisses as you chase your high.

“Fucking hell, princess wet my dick just like that.” your body shakes as you release your 2nd orgasm for the night, meeting Jungkook’s hips to help him chase his own high. He drills inside you, fucking you through your orgasm. He groans, the sound of skin slapping and heaving breathing fills the room. It’s not long before his thrust becomes restless filling you with his warm seeds within seconds. His dick pulsating inside you. He pulls out of you before you hear rustles from behind.

You lean your head on the glass, fixing your straps and taking time to process your thoughts smirking as you hear something breaking. And a gun clicking behind your head.

“Did you break it? Is he gone?” You title your head looking at the broken earpiece before he’s shoving you on the glass window. Pinning both of your hands on your back with one hand. The other holding you at gunpoint.

“Rescue won’t come for you” he growls, you can feel the hatred in his voice, damn he’s so fast you didn’t even notice him pulling his pants up.

“Good” you bite the inside of your cheek maintaining eye contact with him through the glass before crouching down to get your gun fast. Using all your strength to get out of his grip. “Because I won’t need it”

“You do know this is my territory right? Even if you kill me you won’t even last a second before you’re on the ground too.” you point your gun at him, Jungkook standing to his full height, you’d be lying if you say he’s not scary. “Who do you work for?”

“No one”

“Bullshit” you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath before dropping your gun and putting your hands in the air to surrender. Jungkook looks at you confused before pointing the gun at your head yet again. Making you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Kang, Kang Dae” you say slowly “he sent me to kill you” Jungkook laughs, a genuine laugh as if you told him a very funny joke.

“Isn’t that obvious? That bastard huh my father’s life wasn’t enough?” he says sarcastically “Any last words, princess?” His eyes show no remorse, the concern look before now changed to bitterness.

“I can help you kill him” you propose, this is your plan all along, you assume Jungkook is smart enough to put everything together.

“What makes you think I want to kill him?”

“He killed your father”

“Which I am in favor of, by the way. He’s a bad man, he deserved it.” He shrugs “Tell me more”

“He’s going to kill you one way or another, I can help you kill him first” he tilts his head, lowering his gun thinking about what you said for a moment before pointing it against your temple this time making you suck in a harsh breath.

“You’re gonna have to convince me more than that.”

“He has something of me” You growl but decided to beg you can’t die today “please” you tell him softly he can detect the desperation in your voice.

“How do I know you’re not gonna betray me?”

“You’ll have to trust me” he isn’t pleased with that answer “I won’t be out of your sight, if you find me suspicious you can kill me.” you tell him truthfully, he licks his lips, lowering his gun and tucking it to his waist.

“Help me get what’s mine and I’ll help you kill him.” you add he nods. Watching you straighten your back and gain your composure.

“Who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does actually, you seem to know alot about him and vice versa, you must be so special to him that he blackmails you to make you stay.” you didn’t respond to him, peering out windows and checking the parameter before closing the curtains.

“Ahh I know you” you stop in your tracks looking at Jungkook who’s already looking at you with a smirk on his face. Hands on his hips, he still hasn’t put back his shirt on exposing his v lines. “The Knight, that’s you, yes? Unknown name, unknown face, but very known for the works you’ve down for Mr. Kang, didn’t know you’d be a woman though”

“Something wrong with being a woman?”

“None I think it’s great, you’re great I’m a fan of your works” you shake your head of course he would know. You are Kang’s greatest weapon, he has made that clear with every enemy of his. You have taken down all the blockages he has faced, and facing. It was fun at first, the adrenaline of killing bad guys and watching them beg for their lives. But eventually you get tired of being boss around, risking your life, fighting for a fight that’s not even yours to begin with and that makes him angry. You are always in stealth mode, no one has come close to identifying you. Kang planned that from the moment you were born. He was ahead of his enemies, until you make sure he isn’t. He thought taking your brother hostage, the only precious thing your mother has left with you, was a good idea to keep you working for him, well he thought wrong and now he’s gonna pay for it.

“I need to contact him, he needs to know I’m alive and you’re not so he won’t be suspicious.” he nods hesitating at first but eventually agreeing,

“I’ll tell my team to fake my death and announce it through the people of the streets. Make it easier for him to believe you.” you watch him rummage through the cabinet that sits in the corner of the room. He puts on a black shit, his chest prominent, he catches you staring at him, looking away as you clear your throat.

“Thank you”

“Don’t thank me yet”

“Shifting hours would be from 6 in the evening to 6 in the morning, we should be there at 4 they’d be tired and won’t see it coming” you tell the people around the table, a sketch of the mansion spread out on the wooden desk. You left the party with Jungkook, going to a more hidden place where you assume that this might be his home.

“The package will be here, whoever gets there first will protect the package at all costs” Jungkook tells his team sternly, no wonder why he’s the leader, he’s got the potential and that look. Even with his stance alone he looks intimidating. “Get ready, make sure all your equipment is loaded” he nods at the crowd as they disperse outside the meeting room, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

You look up at the ceiling sighing in frustration as anxiety starts to creep in. This needs to work. “You okay?”

“No” you sit on the edge of the table looking at Jungkook who’s standing beside you. You flinch as he grabs both of your wrists, observing it before rubbing an ointment from god knows where. His warm hands calming you.

“I’m sorry about this” you didn’t even notice the marks on your skin until he says so, you pull your hands away, shaking your head as you chuckle lightly,

“It’s fine” he’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. You pull the oversized coat closer to you body, it was given to you by Jungkook the moment you left the room, telling you he can’t have his team getting distracted by your body when your face is more than enough already which made you blush of course you didn’t let him see it.

“I’ll let you rest, you can use the room upstairs on the left. No one will bother you there” He walks away from you, not giving you a second glance before you stop him.

“Jungkook” he turns around waiting for you to continuum looking at you with the most gentle expression he has. “The package, it’s my brother, he’s only 4” you look down, biting your bottom lip, preventing yourself from breaking down right there and then.

Jungkook opens his mouth only to close them, not knowing what to say as he watches you fiddle with the coat you have on. You walk towards where his figure is, standing in front of him as you stare at each other.

“If all else fails, you have to save him. It’s him over me” the words feel bitter on your tongue, but it’s the reality you have to live with. It’s either Kang’s body or yours on the ground. You know him too well to even let you live for a second the moment he finds out about your plan.

“You’ll both be okay” he assures, patting your shoulder, you shake your head you need to hear it from him

“Promise me, you’ll protect him”

“I promise, but can you at least tell me your real name?” he asks curiously you chuckle about how to respond but he’s already putting his hands up in defense “I know, i know only a one time thing yeah?”

“Just tell me why he’s doing this to his own children, so I can make him suffer a little more” he gives you a small smile in which you return

“y/n and it’s a long story” it takes him a second to process what you just said, before his grinning from ear to ear, his bunny teeth showing. He looks normal. He stares at the clock on the wall.

“We still have 5 hours” and those 5 hours are filled with you and Jungkook talking about everything you can think of. He also shared his story. Listening to him made you realize you weren’t the only one with the same fate, you both shared some common interests. You tried your best not to spill everything, but for the first time, for some reason, with Jungkook it feels nice to talk and share about your life with.

“You ready?” you nod at Jungkook, watching everyone around you surround the house you grew up in. Making their way inside as quietly as possible with their guns. You can only trust Jungkook and his team that was set to rescue your brother.

“Don’t worry, they’ll make it in time” He assures you, as if he’s able to read your mind. “We have to get to Kang first before, he gets suspicious” you make you way to the hallway, a couple of dead bodies on the ground hidden in the corner of the room, you look at Jungkook once you spot the guards, communicating with your eyes as the two guard walk to your direction, ready to leave their post

You jump on the guard, letting Jungkook take care of another one. You had the man on chokehold, using his body to cling on him to tighten your grip on his neck and squeeze the life out of the man. You hear him grunts, taking out his knife to stab your side. You hiss trying to ignore the pain as adrenaline pulses through your body. You made sure he had no time to scream for help. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, the other man following suit.

You both creep out of the hallway, nodding at each other with pistol in hand before barging into your father’s office. The feeling of hatred and disgust every time you come inside is still the feeling you have now though you can’t ignore the small part of you that’s afraid of what this man can do.

You pause looking at his silhouette, his back turned against you. “Ahh you’re here” he chuckles

You walk closer to him pointing the gun at his head as he turns his chair around slowly, a light cigarette on his hand. His face shows now surprise as if he has been waiting for this moment.

“Great plan by the way. You look just like your father, a shame he’s not here to witness this” He grins tilting his head as he looks at Jungkook behind you. You tighten your grip to your gun, wanting to pull the trigger so badly.

“Had a good night last night? You can thank me for that, she has you wrapped around her fingers no?” he teases, god you wish you could wipe off that smirk on his face right now.

“I told you I was gonna kill didn’t I?” you give him a piercing look, maintaining a good distance from him in case he tries to fight back. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes before it turned back to pride.

“I know I’ll get killed eventually, it was either you or one of my enemies.” he chuckles, puffing out smoke unbothered. “Daughter, I know you you can’t kill me” he challenges

“No, but he can” you rush to his back, pinning his head on the table as you put cuffs behind his back and tie his legs on the chair in which he didn’t flinch. Jungkook is now standing in front of him with a gun pointed at his head.

“Did you really think I didn’t plan this through? The moment he pulls the trigger you know you’ll be the one to take over and my enemies they’re going to come for you” he growls, you can’t help but feel a little weak over his threat because you know it’s the truth. Jungkook looks at your faltering figure tilting his head, motioning you to come over to him and you do so, purposely hiding behind his figure to compose yourself, you can’t show emotions now.

“Goodbye Kang”

“Oh I almost forgot, you might wanna have to check on that brother of yours, he should be drowning by now” He laughs you look at Jungkook with horror he mouths a “go’ before you’re sprinting towards the door

“You like her boy? I bet she’s as delicious as her mothe-”

“You disgusting old piece of shit.” the sound of a gunshot stops you in your tracks looking back at your father’s grin fading as his body goes limp on the floor. A loud thud is heard when his body hits the ground. One last look and your footsteps echo through the empty corridor, making your way to where your brother is supposed to be, passing through dead bodies on the way.

Loud footsteps follow behind you. Your heart beats faster as you come to the scene.

“Ji woo?” you yell brushing off the crowd that has formed. You hear Jungkook shouting make way , his team doing as he says. Your heart drops at the sight of a water tank, it’s not huge but huge enough for a 4 year-old to drown. Eyes frantically looking for a small figure.

“Y/n” you gasp at the voice, eyes stopping at your brother who’s currently in the arms of one of Jungkook’s men. A towel wrapped around his small body.

“We got him out before the water reached his waist” you nod, thanking the man before scooping your brother out of his arms. You enfold him into a hug, his small arms circling around your neck as he sobs.

“It was scary, yes?” he only sobs harder, if your mother was here this wouldn't happen in the first place, she won’t even get to see him grow and fall in love. You feel pity for both of your brother and mother. If only you could have saved them both sooner. “I’m here now it’s okay” you rub his back, hoping it will give him more warmth.

You grunt as his knee bumps your side, Jungkook notices your pain observing your side before reaching his hands out to get Ji woo. “You’re bleeding”

“I’m fine” Jungkook only shakes his head because of your stubbornness.

“If you want to live and stay with him, then let them check that wound.” You sigh in defeat, handing over Ji woo to Jungkook, he was scared at first but Jungkook gives him a genuine smile and a nod of encouragement.

“Can you be my brother forever?” Ji woo asks innocently, his eyes widening in curiosity as he looks at Jungkook who’s carrying him in his hips.

“Of course” they both giggle, Jungkook brushing his nose to his. You walk side by side, going straight to the medics with your wound. It didn’t hurt earlier but now it definitely hurts like a bitch.

“We need to check him too, he might develop hypothermia” you nod reassuring Ji woo that you’ll see him again soon before Jungkook hands him over to the professionals. He stays beside you, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the space in front him.

“You okay?”

“H-huh of course” you nod, watching the paramedic tend to your wound, gritting your teeth in pain.

“Just a few stitches, it’s not deep.” you lay down on their bed, Jungkook sitting beside you. You grab on the bed as you receive the local anesthesia to numb your side. It isn’t long before you’re done with your stitches. Now you’re looking at the place that has been your home and nightmare at the same time.

“The bodies have been taken care of, and they’re in the process of cleaning up the blood and such. Your father will be buried too, do you wanna know where?”

“No”

“That’s fine, if you want to continue to live here I can have my team clean out everything, save the things you want to save.” save the things you want to save. There’s none. All the things that belonged to your mother had been burned by Kang, she now only exists in your memory and your brother is the only reminder that she’s been here.

“Just burn the house” You see him looking at you in your peripheral vision, completely taken aback by your statement. You’re going to start over .

“About what he said earlier, if anyone comes for you or if you need help-” you’re thankful for Jungkook, but you can’t afford any more losses. Meeting him in the future will only mean danger for the both of you.

“Thank you Jungkook, but we won’t need it. I will not continue my father’s doing” you tell him honestly, giving him a small smile. For now, you will leave as far away as possible from this place with your brother, it will be hard hiding from the others who want your head but you can worry about that later.

“Will we see each other again?” you feel your heart skips a beat

“A one time thing, remember?” you both laugh wholeheartedly, pausing as you stare at each other.

“Goodbye y/n”

“Goodbye Jungkook”

¯¨’*·~-.¸¸,.-~*’ •·.·´¯`·.·• `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.· •´`·..íì..·´`•

taglist : @beebahbarbie

373 notes · View notes

kawaikisses · 5 months

Text

m.list ; Reading list.

Updated. Jan 22, 2024.

Note : I read k-pop idols x reader/ orginal female character fics, so this list is organized keeping that in mind, I do not personally have any issues with other genders, this is just my preference. Thankyou. If you hate unnecessarily, sincerely, no fucks will be given.

(everything is organized by alphabetical order)

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄.

angst .

fluff .

smut .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐔’𝐒.

artist au .

arranged marriage au .

assassin au .

baker au .

bartender au .

BDSM au .

best friend’s brother au .

best friends to lovers au .

best friend’s sister au .

boyfriend au .

camboy au .

camgirl au .

camp counselor au .

CEO au .

chef au .

childhood friends to lovers au .

club au .

college au .

coworker au .

crime au .

dad au .

doctor au .

dancer au .

detective au .

divorce au .

enemies to lovers au .

established relationship au .

exes to lovers au .

fantasy au .

farm au .

father au .

friends to benefits au .

friends to lovers au .

fuckboy au .

fuckgirl au .

forbidden au .

gamer au .

god au .

hitman au .

horror au .

husband au .

hybrid au .

idiots to lovers au .

idol au .

king au .

lawyer au .

mafia au .

magic au .

medical au .

musician au .

neighbours au .

noona au .

one night stand au .

photographer au .

pirates au .

professor au .

prince au .

rich au .

road trip au .

roommate au .

royalty au .

second chance au .

secret relationship au .

sex worker au .

single parent au .

social media au .

songwriter au .

soulmate au .

spy au .

superhero au .

supernatural au .

tattoo artist au .

teacher au .

unrequited love au .

vampire au .

werewolf au .

wife au .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒.

kim namjoon .

kim seokjin .

min yoongi .

jung hoseok .

park jimin .

kim taehyung .

jeon jungkook .

ot7 .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄.

drama .

hurt/comfort .

magic .

mutual pining .

mystery .

romance .

slow burn .

thriller .

age play .

crack .

Note : please let me know if any of the links are not working. Thankyou.

Note : since Tumblr only allows 100 links per page, so this list will be continued in another page, which is linked down below.

↬masterlist continued .

169 notes · View notes

angel1cjules · 4 months

Text

forbidden love pt.1

"I'd get my hands dirty in order to kiss you one more time..." PAIRING - assassin!reader x enemy's assassin!jk WARNINGS - lots of blood <3, name calling, mentions of kidnapping and r@pe, unprotected sex ( wrap it up! ), fingering, dom!jk x sub!reader, overstimulation, lots of needy kisses, forbidden relationship between jk and reader, jk would do basically anything for reader to kiss him one more time. enemies to lovers au WORD COUNT - 612 a/n - YALL HAVE BEEN SO SUPPORTIVE WHAT- TYSM. I hope you enjoy this ;) ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Y/N!" Your boss called. It's another bloody day at work. You wish you didn't end up as an assassin but you did. You had to kill so much people, so much rivals of your boss to be known as one of the most dangerous female assassins in Korea. You were trusted to do any killings the boss needed. "Y/N." Your boss called once again, snapping you out of your daydream. "What has got you thinking like that?" your boss questioned. "Yoongi, why do you care?" you reply, stretching your arms across the table. Min Yoongi, one of the most powerful mafia bosses of this country, had fallen prey to your rude yet sarcastic replies. "Y/N, I need you to kill my ex-best friend, Namjoon." he said, getting straight to the point. Your eyes widen, Namjoon? Yoongi sensed your confusion and quickly added "He killed some of our guys last night. Along with that, his assassin, Jungkook, or whatever his name was, killed my partner, Hoseok." You slowly nod, planning Namjoon's demise in your head already. "Did he know that he killed your workers?" you ask him before leaving. "Pretty sure he did because I didn't send over the drugs he asked for," Yoongi said, looking at his computer. "Alright, when do you want the job done?" you say, grabbing your Lululemon duffle bag which held all your weapons. "Within tonight since he's going out of town tomorrow," he said, glancing over at your seemingly innocent duffle bag. You nod and head out of the room, preparing yourself for the blood to be shed tonight. ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- You go to the local rage room and pick out a katana. You know which room to practice in as this isn't your first or last time being here. You see 2 men in your room, slashing away at the punching bag or the air. You put in your headphones and begin slashing. Little did you know, those 2 men in the room were Jungkook and Jimin, assassins of other mafia bosses. "Damn, she's hot as fuck" Jimin remarks, checking out your perfect body. "Dude, back off, she's mine" Jungkook smirks. You were minding your own business when SLASH! A katana slashed through your upper arm, letting blood gush out. "FUCK, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to" Jungkook immediately rushed to you and held your arm tightly. "You assholes, why the fuck can't you practice further away!?" you yell at the older men. Jimin rushed to you with a first aid kit, leading you to think you think that this isn't the first time they slashed someone. "Get the fuck off of me" you try pushing Jungkook's hand away but his grip was too tight. "If I let go, you're gonna lose a shit ton of blood." he replied coldly. Jimin wrapped your wound with a bandage and apologized so many times for a mistake he didn't commit. You left the room, annoyed and in a little bit of pain. This wound was a scratch compared to all your other scars. ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- An hour later, you finally got to Namjoon's hideout where he was staying. You wore a skin-tight black suit that covered your torso, legs and half of your elbow. Below your elbow, you wore gloves. You wore a hood to hide your identity. Your movements were as light as a feather as you didn't want any attention while you were sneaking in. You finally found a window that was open and slowly crept in. You landed on your feet with a thud and when you were closing the window, you felt a hand slither around your waist and another hand muffle your mouth.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #music

137 notes · View notes

longtimenospooning-luci · 2 years

Text

Poly/OT7: I

Updated 01/14/24

Burn the Stage - @adonis-koo

When your girl group breaks up you’re desperate to prove you can make it as an idol. When you stumble across a no name company called BigHit auditioning for a new member of a boy band what do you do? The only logical solution: Cross dress and attend it anyways

A Place Called Home - @agustdakasuga

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Between the Bloodshed - ^^

Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of them through recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Everything Between Us - ^^ Sequel to Between the Bloodshed

They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?

How to Sell Sunshine - @alpacaparkaseok

Mafia AU, Mob Boss MC and Bangtan Crew with a twist!

The Tales of Sisters (Queendom series) - @borathae

FemDom! Royal MC in a fantasy kingdom, each member has their own story.

Damn the Charcuterie Board - @bratkook

Yoongi x Reader x Jimin in a smutty cracky fic for the best of both worlds.

Love is Blind - @cinnaminsvga

social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way)

Dorm Duels - ^^

social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories.

Betrayal - @daydream-hobii

Three words circled in your brain, betrayal being the most apparent. You were packing your bags, planning to leave you seven boyfriends before they got home, but when they get there early, you’re forced to witness their heartbreak, as well as prolong yours.

Sanctuary - ^^

It only had to happen once for you to gain seven new members of your family. Only once, that’s all it needed. You saved them from some predator hybrids and, since then, they were attached to your hip. You didn’t mind, you liked the company.

Peculiar Pack - @daydreamindollie

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden.

From Eden - @ddaenggtan

you’ve been in the dark a long time, overworked and exhausted. the only bright point is your gatekeeper, Hoseok, your closest friend and the man you love but can’t have. you’ve accepted that loneliness is inevitable for you. when a voice calls to you, though, and moves you so deeply that you rip open the earth to help them, you meet a mint-haired boy that changes everything you thought you knew about your prison.

Under the Same Sun - @floralseokjin

A stranger flips you and your boyfriend’s world upside down for one night…

No Doubt About it - @hoebii

Jerk Bangtan CEO AU for any angst lovers out there that need to feel the pain like me lmao.

Black Mamba - ^^

Snake Hybrid Reader trained as a government assassin gets adopted by CEO(?) Bangtan.

Dance to This/Call Me Yours - @hollyhomburg

Seokjin didn’t expect his new potential owner to be blind, but with the threat of being sent to a breeding clinic looming over his head, he’ll do anything.

Hybrid House - ^^

To Seokjin, Home consists of his human partners Namjoon and Hoseok as well as their Hybrids; the pups- named Taehyung and Jimin, their black cat- called Yoongi, and their foxboy- called Jungkook. Together they have the happiest family possible, everyone loves everyone equally. So what happens when Namjoon finds you? a cat hybrid, beaten close to death left alone in an alleyway on the coldest night of the year? He takes you home, shows you his family, and together they teach you what love can be like.

Reasons Wretched and Divine - ^^ (One of my absolute favs!)

You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon.

Sugary Sweet - ^^

When you get drunk with your boyfriends- 3 things always happen: Jimin gets bratty. You get needy. And Yoongi gets impossibly irrevocably mushy gushy sugar cookie soft.

Champagne & Sunshine - @jamaisjoons

a honeymoon in the Maldives, champagne, and your two newlywed husbands and mates - what more could you ask for?

Complaint - @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue

you work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint.

I Want You to Stay - ^^

your bodyguards became your best friends and you couldn’t imagine your life without them.

Our Little Love - ^^

Mafia/Soft Yandere au - you were sent to do your job you didn’t expect to fall in love

Bleeding Butterflies - ^^

Vampire au - a drop of your blood was worth that of a thousand people, but they would never allow another being to have a taste

A Bed of Roses - @jimlingss

Superpowers are supposed to make you invincible, someone who could save the world, a hero. It's not supposed to be like this...

The Seven Kinds of Love - ^^

Love, an intense feeling of deep affection.

Tomorrow - @jungk0oksthighs

when Y/N gets a job at the Jeon law firm downtown, her life gets turned upside down, but is it for better, or worse? ceo!au, lawyer!au

Voracious - @jungkookiebus

idol!Taehyung x idol!Jungkook x reader

Date Night - @justcallmenikki7

Poly Mafia AU

Regretful Choices - ^^

You get into an argument with your boyfriends, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Wild, Wild, Wilderness - @kimnjss

seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

Thought you were Different - @kookiesbuckethat

Being the owner of BTS’ favourite cafe, you find yourself growing closer to the seven members without even realizing who you were talking to. What happens when you seemingly start to treat them differently after discovering their true identities?

Broken Communication - @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook for some good angst with a happy ending.

Kings of Campus - @luxekook

a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity.

You Belong to Us - @minniepetals

Just do it, read all of Minnie's stories, they are fantastic and a perfect balance of angst and fluff.

Feelings of Doubt - ^^

Yours Alone - ^^

Strawberries & Cigarettes - ^^

When the rain gets Rough - ^^

Until the Last Star Falls - ^^

Caramel Macchiato - ^^

Honey Love - ^^

Nightlight - ^^

Heartbeat - ^^

Love Poem - ^^

As Long as You're Here - ^^

A Cup of Love - ^^

A Thousand Springs - ^^

When a Demon Loves - ^^

Guardians - ^^

Milk Honey - ^^

The Butterseries - ^^

Cry Me a River - ^^

#poly!bts x reader #bts x you #poly!bts #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts imagines

2K notes · View notes

intplayboy · 25 days

Text

WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X WITCH! READER [ PART 1 ]

if you wish to be part of the tag list, complete the form.

summary: in an era where the royal family denounces all magic, as one of the few remaining witches, you hide your powers. though you try to lead a normal life, only the seven accepting men make you feel truly understood. yet, what destiny awaits when you must reveal your true identity?

pairing: royal soldiers bts ot7 x female witch reader (high royal commander!kim namjoon, high royal soldier!kim namjoon, high royal soldier!min yoongi, royal assassin!jung hoseok, royal assassin!park jimin, elite warrior!kim taehyung, elite warrior!jeon jungkook)

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death, slight mentions of SA, disgusting misogyny, witchcraft, slight gore, and swearing.

permanent tag list: @taolucha, @exfolitae, @namjoonswaifu, @rinkud, @queenlouie18, @btsgangleader @m0v3m3ntsblog, @nicholedobre-blog, @bjoriis, @princess-sunshyn, @han-aaaaa, @ejspencer14, @skyys-universe, @thvslvt, @dustyinkpages, @savagemickey03, @aynbookworm, @loveforred, @jwonz, @ghostlyworld, @wagtte, @louisaqueen, @meepsters-world, @carolina-thiell, @svnbangtansworld, @deepestfacedevil

(the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

word count: 19,398

Present day...

In the narrow, cobblestone-laden alleyways of the bustling city, the rhythmic echo of boots pounding against the ground resonates. "Stop, right there!" A man, accompanied by a cadre of others, bellows, their pursuit propelled by an intensity matched only by the pulsing rhythm of your heart. The reminiscence of childhood escapades emerges, an unexpected thrill as you find yourself once more in the precarious position of the pursued, the very spirit of adventure coursing through your veins.

The impetus for this impromptu race stems from the audacious act of liberating an artifact from the clutches of a pledgemart—an establishment known for its shrewd dealings. Your attempt to negotiate a fair price met with obstinacy from the working men within, who sought to exploit you. Frustration simmered, and in a feigned surrender, you declared your departure. Unbeknownst to them, the pilfered artifact nestled discreetly within your sleeve.

As you strolled away with feigned nonchalance, a sudden shout marked their discovery of the missing item. The chase unfolded with a symphony of footsteps and frantic exclamations, your nimble form weaving through the labyrinthine alleyways, adeptly evading both pursuers and obstacles. Yet, as the village streets blurred around you, the relentless pursuit eventually cornered you in a dimly lit cul-de-sac.

"If I didn't know better, I'd reckon you for the famed Mystrogue that's been the talk of our beloved city—renowned seeker and pilferer, and quite proficient at it, if I may add. But I beg to differ, considering you're but a young lass, and such feats would seem nigh impossible for someone of your ilk," one of the men quipped, suspicion and amusement intertwining in his words.

Breathless, you retort, "Your presumptions matter not. I suggest you release me if you value your well-being."

Laughter erupts among the men, a cacophony of disbelief reverberating through the alley. Unfazed, you tighten your grip on the concealed artifact, bracing yourself for the impending confrontation.

As the men lunge forward with an unexpected assault, your nimble reflexes engage. Swiftly eluding the initial blow, you counter with a series of well-aimed strikes, showcasing your prowess in hand-to-hand combat. The alley transforms into a makeshift battleground—a dance between evasion and retaliation.

Despite your impressive display, the sheer numbers eventually overwhelm you. A firm grip seizes you from behind, restraining your movements. The leader, a grizzled man with a scarred visage, steps forward, his voice dripping with menace. "For your audacious theft, girl, we'll have no choice but to sever your thieving hands. A fitting punishment for those who dare defy the order of this city."

The threat hangs in the air, heavy and ominous. A sense of desperation creeps in as you struggle against your captors, but their hold remains unyielding. The narrow alley now feels like a prison, the walls closing in as the leader pronounces your dire fate.

"You're naught but a common thief, and this city won't abide such defiance. Ready yourself for the consequences of your actions," he declares, his words resonating with finality.

As the blade descends towards your restrained hands, a commanding voice resonates through the alley. "Enough!"

The men freeze, turning to the source of the interruption. The figure emerging from the shadows is none other than Namjoon, his presence demanding attention. His eyes bore into the leader, a silent warning. Soon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jin appear alongside Namjoon in this narrow alleyway bathed in the sunny glow of mid-morning.

Your brow furrows slightly. Where are the other three? You wondered.

Namjoon's gaze remains locked with the defiant leader of the men. "Release her, and you may yet escape unscathed."

The men exchange glances, their hesitation evident, but their pride and greed prevail. With a signal from their leader, they tighten their grip on you, defiance etched on their faces.

"We don't answer to the likes of you," the leader spits, a malevolent grin stretching across his face. "She stole from us, and we'll be the ones to dispense justice."

Namjoon's hand twitches, signaling the others to prepare for what seems inevitable. The air grows thick with tension as the two factions face off, each refusing to yield.

Meanwhile, your mind races, desperately seeking an escape from this perilous situation. The cold steel of the blade hovers menacingly close to your hands, restrained and vulnerable. The men surrounding you exchange menacing glances, relishing the impending punishment they intend to deliver.

Suddenly, Hoseok steps forward. His eyes, sharp and calculating, survey the alley with a hint of disdain. "Do you truly believe you can challenge us, you fools? Do you even know who we are?"

The men scoff, dismissing Hoseok's words as mere bravado. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation as the standoff reaches its climax.

Namjoon's patience wears thin. "Last chance. Release her, or face the consequences."

The men hesitate, realizing the gravity of the situation. Yet, the leader, fueled by arrogance, signals for the attack. But Namjoon and the others remain still and calm, for the anticipated assault never comes. Perplexed, the leader turns around to be met with Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin holding their respective blade weapons at the necks of the erstwhile captors.

"As you were saying," Taehyung muses, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Now, before I was rudely interrupted, you shall desist from troubling this young woman. Do you understand?" Namjoon's eyes darken, fixing upon all four men.

"How dare—" The leader begins to retort defiantly, but Yoongi's swift and undetected actions interrupt him with a sword blade against his neck.

"You wish to defy the orders of the royal family's protectors?" Yoongi intones with a menacing glare.

The man gulps and shakes his head, his bravado replaced by a flicker of fear. "N-no, of course not."

He shifts his gaze back to Namjoon. "Pray accept my humble apologies, my lords. I was unaware this woman was in association with you."

Namjoon approaches, his expression unwavering. "Leave. Consider yourselves fortunate that you still draw breath. Speak not a word of this woman or this encounter, lest you wish dire consequences."

The men, recognizing the futility of further resistance, slink away, leaving behind the echoes of their defeated pride.

With Jimin and Jungkook the ones closest to you, Jimin turns to you, concern etching his features. "Are you hurt, Y/N?"

Your hands throbbed from the ordeal, but you managed a nod of assurance. "I'm fine. Thanks to all of you."

"Then what's this, beneath your shoulder?" Jungkook's brow arches in suspicion, pointing at a bloody cut on your upper arm, presumably from the knife one of the men used on you during the brief skirmish.

You chuckle sheepishly. "Oh, it's nothing... I insist..."

"It's not nothing if you're bleeding, Y/N," Jimin insists. "Come, let's find a place where we can tend to that wound."

With your arm gently supported by Jimin, the group maneuvers through the winding alleyways. The village hums with life around you as the bright hues of the sunlight filter through the labyrinthine streets.

Namjoon's voice resonates, breaking the silence enveloping the group. "This isn't the first instance we've found ourselves intervening on your behalf, Y/N."

A glance of gratitude is cast toward him. "I appreciate your assistance, truly. How did you come upon me, may I inquire?"

Hoseok chuckles. "Perchance because we followed the trail of trouble that seemed to linger on our path leading to you, whether it be your penchant for adventure or your knack for stumbling upon turmoil."

You playfully roll your eyes. "Har har, very humorous, Hoseok."

As the group emerges onto a broader thoroughfare, Taehyung points toward a discreet apothecary nestled between two grander establishments. "That should be a suitable place to address your wound."

The bell above the apothecary's door chimes as you enter, greeted by the scent of various herbs and medicinal potions. The shopkeeper, a wizened figure with spectacles perched on the tip of his nose, looks up from his work. "How may I assist you?"

"We need something to clean and dress this wound," Jimin explains, revealing the extent of the injury.

The apothecary, noticing the wounded state, gestures for you to sit at a small wooden table. "Please, have a seat, young miss. I'll prepare a salve for that cut."

As you settle, Seokjin says. "No, but in all earnestness, Y/N. This has occurred far too frequently. Why do you consistently find yourself embroiled in such trivial affairs? If you find yourself in need of aid or finances, you are well aware that you can turn to us, are you not?"

Your gaze averts. "Well, there is a valid reason for this particular escapade."

Taehyung who is leaning against a nearby shelf, adopting an air of nonchalance. "So, what was the object of this daring escapade, anyway?"

You hesitate for a moment, retrieving the invaluable artifact, revealing it to be a delicate piece of parchment. But this seemingly, "ordinary paper" is none other than a secondary copy of the Kingdom's map, stretching far beyond the borders of your realm into neighboring lands and forbidden mountains rumored to be teeming with magical creatures. The mere existence of such beings has become the stuff of myth since the banishment of magic and its practitioners. How this hidden treasure found its way into the hands of the pledgemarts remains a mystery.

"So, are you insinuating that you risked life and limb for this antiquated map?" Jungkook's brow arched skeptically as he surveyed the document in your hands.

"And pray tell, what makes it so significant, Y/N, that you'd stake your well-being for it?" Jin's tone was dry, though lacking any true malice.

With a measured exhale, you prepared to justify your actions, "It's not merely an old map, if you must know, Jungkook. Do you wonder why it fetched such a high price? Because the original resides within the palace, accessible only to the royal family. Its value lies not only in its rarity but in the history it encapsulates, a history tied to these lands and the events of ages past."

"And what need have you for such a rare relic?" Namjoon inquires, his gaze piercing.

Your gaze shifted momentarily in contemplation before fixing back on him, voice lowered, "May we discuss this elsewhere, please?"

Namjoon nodded, and amidst exchanged glances among your friends, the apothecary completed the mending of your wound, securing a bandage. "Take heed, and tread carefully. Mishaps have a way of finding those who seek them," he advised, sliding a jar of salve towards you. "This should aid in the healing, young miss. Apply it generously."

"Thank you," you murmur gratefully, accepting the remedies.

Jimin, ever the considerate one, inquires about payment, but the apothecary waves it off with a dismissive gesture. "Consider it a token of gratitude for safeguarding our city. The Royal Protectors are always welcome here."

As your group emerges back into the sunlight, Namjoon's gaze settles upon you with a mix of concern and admonishment. "Y/N, you must grasp the consequences of your actions. We cannot always be there to extricate you from every predicament."

"I understand, Namjoon. Truly, I do," you respond earnestly, the weight of your choices settling upon your shoulders.

Hoseok interjects, his tone lightening the mood with a touch of levity. "Nevertheless, trouble seems to have a knack for finding you, or perhaps it's the other way around."

You shoot him a playful glare, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Is that your professional opinion, Doctor Hoseok?"

Taehyung, ever the embodiment of carefree spirit, suggests a reprieve. "Shall we indulge in some refreshments? It seems an opportune moment for respite."

"An excellent suggestion. Let us adjourn to my humble abode; I have procured a new selection of teas and treats to share," you offer with a smile.

Jungkook, always quick with a jest, couldn't resist a tease. "New, you say? One must wonder if you've liberated these goods as well..."

You narrow your gaze at him, playfully threatening pursuit as he dodges away. "Come back here, you scamp!"

"Not this time. I used my own funds!" You protest.

"Ah, you say 'this time'? It implies a previous act of pilfering," he counters, evading your lighthearted chase.

"Did not!" You argue.

"Did too." He laughs.

The older six of your group watched fondly as you engaged in playful banter. Despite the drastic difference in social status—your commoner background juxtaposed with their high royal standing—the dynamics of your group remained unchanged. Grateful for the enduring camaraderie, you all continued to revel in the playful interactions that had characterized your friendship.

Back at your cottage, you promptly prepared tea, unveiling your new collection bought with hard-earned money, refuting Jungkook's absurd accusation.

As the fragrant steam rises from the teapot, Hoseok leans forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Now that we're away from prying ears, Y/N, do tell us why you risked life and limb for that ancient map?"

A weighty sigh escapes your lips; this day, you knew, would inevitably arrive. For the better part of six auroas, you've meticulously laid the groundwork for the moment when you'd disclose your clandestine plans. However, the apprehension gnaws at you, as you grapple with the delicate task of revealing your intentions without causing undue distress to your closest companions.

You understand the impracticality of divulging the whole truth, the veritable reason behind your meticulous planning and subsequent departure from the kingdom. Since the prohibition of magic and the persecution of its wielders, you've been forced to exist in the shadows, concealing your abilities beneath the guise of a commoner.

Your sorcery, a gift passed down through generations, necessitates discretion, especially given the escalating civil unrest in the villages. The imminent arrival of the royal military elite for inquisitions looms over your head like a guillotine. Your nascent mastery of magic is fragile, and an encounter with the inquisitors could shatter the fragile control you've gained.

Recollections of your mother's tales, of covens of witches secluded in the northern realms, lingered in your mind. Legends spoke of their veiled existence, untouched by the meddling hands of humans for lumiras. Your intent was not only a self-indulgent quest for heritage and mastery of your magic but also a calculated move to shield your companions from the impending storm. The military elite, unrelenting in their pursuit, would not hesitate to accuse your friends of collusion, painting them as conspirators in your occult escapades.

"I have intentions of departing the kingdom," you proclaimed, your words resolute, yet tinged with a palpable sorrow. The die was cast, and there could be no retracing of steps.

The room held its breath in suspended animation. Seven pairs of eyes, frozen in astonishment, betrayed the collective disbelief at your revelation. A dissonant shatter punctuated the silence, and your gaze snapped to the fallen tea cup near Jimin, the first to react to your momentous disclosure.

"Oh no! Are you unharmed, Jimin? Allow me to clean this up for you." Hastily procuring a cloth and a dustpan, you endeavored to remedy the scattered shards.

"No, don't, Y/N. You might injure yourself," Jimin implored, breaking through the haze of shock.

A nervous smile adorned your countenance. "It is quite alright, Jimin. I—" A sudden pang interrupted your words, a small cut on your index finger oozing droplets of crimson.

Jimin, ever the caring soul, intervenes, "Y/N, let me tend to your wound."

Yet, it is not Jimin's hands that cradle yours; it is Yoongi's firm grip that takes hold. "Why subject yourself to needless harm when assistance is readily available?" he admonishes, attending to your minor injury with practiced efficiency.

Jin interjects, "Now, kindly resume elucidating the rationale behind this momentous decision of yours."

Resuming your seat at the table, a sigh escapes your lips, laden with the weight of impending revelation. "The kingdom has been steeped in turmoil since the prohibition of magic. I find myself no longer desirous of confining my existence within these walls."

Your utterance reverberates in the hallowed silence, and the gravity of your decision begins to unfurl. However, the disclosure is only partially accurate; the depths of your motivation remain veiled, a necessary smoke screen to shield your dear friends from the harsh reality of your supernatural lineage.

"And how long has this plan been festering in the recesses of your mind?" Jimin questioned, concern etched upon his face.

Shame colors you as you avert your gaze. "Several auroas, I believe."

"Several auroas?! And you saw fit to withhold such momentous plans from us?" Jimin's incredulity is mirrored on the faces of the others, a collective expression of dismay.

"I assure you, my departure is not imminent," you assert in an attempt to assuage their apprehension. "I am still in the contemplative stage."

"In the contemplative stage?" Jimin echoes with palpable frustration. "Pray, how is it that you arrived at such a life-altering decision without deigning to inform us?"

The room simmers with a tension borne of unspoken emotions and uncharted territories. The burden of deception weighs heavily on your shoulders, but the alternative—laying bare the intricate web of magical intrigue and peril—seems too great a cost to impose upon your friends.

Attempting to quell the rising tension, Hoseok intervenes. "Let us temper our emotions. Y/N may have more to expound upon. Is that not so?"

Nodding hesitantly, you affirm, "Indeed, I do. My desire extends beyond the simplicity of a commoner's life within these walls. I yearn to explore, to contribute in ways that transcend the mundane. To achieve this, I must venture beyond our borders."

Jimin's incredulous gaze narrows. "Embarking on such a perilous expedition is no trifling matter. Why, then, did you not summon us to accompany you?"

"Because precisely that — it is perilous. I harbor no desire to subject you to the dangers beyond our borders. It would be unjust to sacrifice your cherished positions for the uncertainties that lie ahead," you explain, your eyes pleading for their understanding.

Jin wears a sorrowful expression. "You underestimate the strength of our bonds, Y/N. To think we would prioritize our positions over your well-being wounds me deeply."

The room falls into a somber silence, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging heavily.

Jimin leans back, "While your intentions may be noble, it remains a considerable deviation from our collective path. Decisions of such magnitude necessitate collective contemplation."

Taehyung, who has been pensively silent, finally speaks, "But what of the dangers you might face alone? Surely, we could lend our strength, provide a united front against the perils that await beyond our borders."

Your heart swells with gratitude for their concern, yet the specter of potential consequences restrains you. "I appreciate your offer, Taehyung, but the dangers I face are mine to endure. To embroil you in these uncertainties is a burden I cannot bear."

Hoseok suggests, "Before definitive decisions are made, let us collectively explore the details of your plan. Knowledge dispels fear, and perhaps together, we can devise a strategy that mitigates the dangers you envision."

"Perhaps we can delve into that matter at a later time. As I mentioned earlier, I don't intend to depart any time soon," you declare.

A hushed silence ensues before you continue, your eyes flitting between each concerned face. "However, there's something else I must impart—a reminder of sorts. I am to return to Valoris once more, and I shall be absent for two duskars." Your words captured by their ears, inciting incredulity once more, eliciting groans and sighs from the group.

(Duskar: a combination of "Dusk" and "Star," Duskar represents both day and night. It acknowledges the importance of celestial transitions and the balance between light and darkness.)

"Pray, tell me you jest, Y/N," Jin articulates with a mixture of incredulity and exasperation, his demeanor embodying the very essence of patience tried. "What compels you to return there yet again?"

"You know well the reason. There is a family in dire need of aid. They teeter on the brink of survival—had I not stumbled upon them, who knows what fate would have befallen them," you protest, a pout forming on your lips.

"Y/N, whilst your benevolence knows no bounds—a trait most admirable, I must urge caution. One cannot ascertain if their plight is as dire as you perceive it to be," Jin responds.

"Do you not find it rather suspicious that after years of barrenness, a family suddenly emerges in such desolate environs?" He counters.

Your eyes sweep over the assembly, prompting a sheepish smile from you as you rub your neck. "I understand it may seem peculiar, but circumstances unravel in curious ways. And I've pledged to aid them, I cannot turn my back on that commitment."

Taehyung, his brow furrowed, interjects, "Y/N, it's been a while since you started assisting this family. May I inquire about the nature of their situation? How did you chance upon them in such desolate surroundings?"

A nostalgic smile graces your lips as you recount the serendipitous encounter. "Whilst exploring the outskirts of Valoris, I happened upon a decrepit cottage. Within its dilapidated walls dwelled a family—a mother, a father, and a young girl. Their existence was a struggle against the elements, barely sustaining themselves. It tugged at my heart, and I couldn't stand idly by."

Jungkook, leaning on his hand, adds, "As Jin has pointed out—not to dispute your compassion, Y/N, but these are challenging times. We must be cautious of unforeseen consequences."

You nod appreciatively at Jungkook's counsel. "I acknowledge the risks, Jungkook. Yet, my conscience compels me to aid those in need."

Namjoon, tilting his head in amusement, chimes in, "Then you wouldn't mind if one of us accompanies you on this mission of mercy?"

"No—! I mean, they're not fond of strangers," you hastily reason.

Namjoon raised his brow skeptically. "They welcomed you warmly, it seems."

"I'm but a small woman; they assumed I posed no threat. Yet, it still required effort to convince them of my harmlessness to them. I just don't want to frighten them off, and if they learn that I've divulged their existence to you all, they'll be afraid," you explain.

Jimin, dryly, responds, "That doesn't ease our concerns, Y/N."

"Listen—" you begin, exhaling softly. "As you rightly pointed out, I have undertaken this task for some time now. I am well-versed in such matters. Trust me, I shall be fine. I give you my word."

The room remains enveloped in contemplative silence before Yoongi, who had been quietly observing, finally speaks up. "If you're so resolute, Y/N, why not let one of us accompany you? It'd ease our minds, and we could lend a hand if need be."

You consider his suggestion, realizing the merit in his words. "I appreciate the concern, but I fear introducing others might disturb the delicate balance I've established with the family. They're wary, and I don't wish to jeopardize the trust I've built."

Seokjin, arms crossed, raises an eyebrow. "Trust, Y/N? How can you trust a family you just stumbled upon in the desolation of Valoris?"

A solemn expression crosses your face as you respond, "Trust is earned, Jin. And over time, they've come to trust me. I've proven my sincerity through actions, not just words."

Jin sighs in reluctant understanding, "Very well, Y/N. But you must promise to exercise caution. Valoris is not a place to be taken lightly."

Your gaze meets each of theirs, a vow implicit in your eyes. "I promise, Jin. I'll tread carefully, and I'll be back before you know it."

With a collective exhale, the tension in the room eases slightly, though an undercurrent of concern lingers. Your friends exchanging glances that spoke volumes of their internal debates. It was clear they harbored reservations, yet your determination seemed to quell the immediate protests.

Namjoon, assuming the role of the tacit leader amongst your circle, spoke with a measured tone, “Like Jin has said, we implore you to remain vigilant and communicate with us at the first sign of distress."

"Your safety is paramount, not just to us, but to those you seek to aid. An unforeseen mishap would not only imperil you but potentially them as well," Jimin adds, the weight of his gaze impressing upon you the gravity of his words.

You nod, the warmth of their concern enveloping you like a comforting embrace. "I am truly blessed to have such steadfast companions. I shall endeavor to proceed with the utmost caution and keep you apprised of my whereabouts and well-being."

A sudden burst of joviality erupts as Hoseok, with a spirited clap of his hands, attempts to dispel the tension. "By the way, whilst we're gathered, might we engage in discourse concerning the choice of furnishings that adorn your abode in recent days?"

The unexpected comment elicits snickers and playful smiles, particularly from the younger three among your seven male friends. Your countenance scrunches as you defend your taste, "Hey—what's amiss with it? I find that it imparts character to my humble abode."

"Oh, character she says..." Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes, accompanying his expression with a hearty snicker.

"Yes," you protest with a spirited defense. "There is merit in uniqueness."

"Is there, though?" Jungkook chimes in with a teasing smirk.

You playfully brandish your teaspoon at Jungkook. "Do not reckon I've forgotten the earlier banter."

Jungkook raises his hands in mock surrender, "Merely suggesting that Hoseok may have a point."

You huff, "I believe the issue lies not in my embellishments, but rather in the judgment of you four."

Abruptly, you turn your gaze to Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi. "What's your stance on my domicile embellishments? Do you deem them peculiar?"

Namjoon and Jin avert their gazes expeditiously. "Not peculiar, per se, but room for improvement, mayhaps."

Your mouth agape in incredulity, you shift your eyes to Yoongi, who, in nonchalance, utters, "I would counsel against seeking my perspective."

"You gentlemen are unkind; my choice of furnishings are perfectly adequate." You cross your arms with a defeated pout.

Amidst the snickers and amusement of the others, Yoongi breaks the sounds of teasing with unexpected words, "I find your choice of furnishings quite acceptable. They mirror the essence of your beautiful personality, a sentiment often overlooked. It reflects your warm perspective on the external world despite the adversities it has thrust upon you."

A moment of frozen silence follows Yoongi's unexpected words. His usual reserve, both in language and demeanor, makes such an expression of sentiment all the more noteworthy. Your eyes shimmer with appreciation, acknowledging his unusual display of affection.

"Oh, thank you, Yoongi. I had faith in your understanding." Moved by gratitude, you rise from your seat, traversing the table to where Yoongi sits, offering him an embrace.

The others observe this scene with amusement, witnessing Yoongi's stoic countenance in the face of your affectionate display. Yet, beneath the facade, there's an undeniable enjoyment that the astute onlookers can discern.

A twinge of envy courses through the younger trio. "Had it been one of us embracing you, you'd have protested vehemently," Jimin declares, crossing his arms with a playful smirk.

Taehyung joins in, grinning, "Shall we test this theory with our own embraces?"

"Do not test my patience." Yoongi warns, maintaining his composure even as you continue to hug him with unwavering enthusiasm.

"Oh, tread carefully, Y/N; you may inadvertently become the thief of our affections, and then we'll be seven lovers no more," Jin jests, playing along.

"Rest assured, my dear friends," you assure with a laugh, relinquishing Yoongi from your hold and retaking your seat opposite him. "I harbor no intentions of dismantling your polyamorous entanglements. Your relationships with one another are almost as precious to me as my individual friendships with each of you."

"Yet," you muse, "I cannot deny a flicker of envy."

Curiosity dances in Jin's eyes as he tilts his head. "For what reason, may I ask?"

"You all share a love so profound, a bond so unbreakable. I, on the contrary, find myself lacking in that department. I often ponder when the fates shall decree it my turn to discover someone who will cherish me as deeply as you all cherish one another."

Hoseok smiles, his gaze gentle. "Do not lose hope, dear Y/N. In due time, you shall encounter someone worthy of your affection, and they of yours."

"Thank you, Hobi," you respond gratefully. "Until then, I shall cherish the love and friendship we share."

As you approach the outskirts of Valoris, the quaint cottage comes into view, nestled amidst a thicket of gnarled trees and overgrown foliage. The air is thick with the scent of earth and wildflowers, a serene tranquility enveloping the surroundings. With each step, anticipation swells within you, mingled with a sense of familiarity and warmth at the thought of reuniting with the family you've come to know.

Pushing open the creaking gate, you make your way down the winding path, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots a comforting rhythm. The cottage stands before you, its timeworn facade bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the worn wooden porch.

With a soft knock, you announce your arrival, the sound echoing through the quietude of the evening. Moments pass before the door creaks open, revealing the figure of the mother, Esmae is her name, her weary eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Y/N, you've returned," she murmurs, a smile dancing upon her lips as she steps aside, bidding you entry into the cozy embrace of their abode.

Within, the hearth crackles cheerfully, casting a soft radiance upon the modest surroundings. Jakub, the father, sits by the fire, his calloused hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, while a young girl occupies herself with a worn-out doll in the corner, her laughter a melody that fills the room.

"Yes, and I've brought provisions," you announce, brandishing a basket brimming with necessities.

"Y/N, it's a pleasure to see you once more. Thank you kindly for returning," Jakub greets, his voice laced with warmth as he gestures for you to join them.

The little one, Talia, clutching her tattered companion, peeks out from behind her father's chair, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Y/N, you've come back," she exclaims, a glimmer of delight piercing through the solemnity of their surroundings.

"I made a promise, did I not?" you respond, lowering yourself to meet the child's gaze. "And who might this be?" you inquire, motioning to the doll.

The girl beamed, holding the doll up for inspection. "This is Bonnie. She's my friend."

You couldn't help but smile at the simplicity of the bond between the girl and her tattered companion. "Bonnie is a lovely name for a lovely friend," you remarked.

Seated around the hearth, you regale the family with tales of your adventures since your last visit, their rapt attention hanging on your every word. Particularly Talia, who captivates you with her innocent musings and boundless curiosity.

She listens eagerly as you recount stories from distant lands, dreams that stretch beyond the confines of Valoris. Her eyes shimmer with wonder, momentarily eclipsing the harsh realities of their existence.

Over the past two days, you seamlessly integrate into their daily rhythm. The modest cottage, though weathered by time, brims with love and mirth.

At the first morning, you join the family in their chores, and tending to the modest garden that sustains them. Come afternoon, you explore the surrounding countryside together, wandering along meandering paths and discovering hidden glens, nature's beauty a constant wellspring of marvel and solace.

As night descends, you gather once more around the hearth, the flames casting dancing shadows upon the walls as you share stories and dreams beneath the canopy of stars.

With each passing moment, you find yourself further entwined in the fabric of their lives. Jin's cautionary words linger in the recesses of your mind, yet the genuine warmth of Esmae, Jakub, and Talia dispels any lingering doubts. The simplicity of their existence, juxtaposed against the enigmatic backdrop of Valoris, weaves a tapestry of contrasts that ensnares your soul.

As the sun paints the sky in hues of rose and gold on the second morning, you find yourself engaged in makeshift breakfast preparations with Esmae.

The aroma of a humble yet heartfelt meal permeates the air. "Thank you, Y/N, for bringing brightness into our humble dwelling," Esmae expresses, her eyes shimmering with a blend of gratitude and weariness.

"It's the least I can do," you reply, flipping a slice of bread on the makeshift griddle. "You've welcomed me into your fold, and I am grateful for the chance to be of service."

Throughout the ensuing hours, you assist Jakub in fortifying the cottage, bolstering its timeworn structure against the relentless march of time. Each nail driven into place feels like a vow, a pledge to shore up the foundation upon which this family's aspirations rest.

Later in the day, Talia extends an invitation to explore the outskirts of Valoris. "Mother, father, may Y/N accompany us as we frolic amidst the woods?" she asks with innocent exuberance.

"I see no reason why not," Esmae smiles down at Talia.

"Please, Y/N, ensure her safety," Jakub instructs you, to which you readily assent.

With her tiny hand clasped in yours, you embark on an adventure, uncovering hidden nooks and crannies as Talia regales you with tales of imaginary exploits. You play along, transforming mundane rocks into treasures and the rustling leaves into whispers of ancient lore.

Suddenly struck by inspiration, you yearn to reveal to Talia the enchanting wonders of the world, the magic that lies beyond the confines of Valoris. "Would you care to witness something truly enchanting?" you propose.

"Enchanting? Like magic?" Talia's eyes sparkle with anticipation.

You nod, a smile playing upon your lips. "Precisely so. But we must exercise discretion—recall what I've mentioned earlier."

She nods eagerly, awaiting the magical spectacle you promise. "What sort of enchantment do you possess, Y/N?"

Surveying your surroundings, your gaze alights upon a bedraggled bush of withering white flowers amidst the barren landscape. Therein lies your canvas for displaying your magical prowess.

"Come, follow me right here. You see these withering flowers," you point, and Talia gazes at them with curiosity. "What about it?"

"Watch—" With a flourish, you draw a deep breath and extend your hands over the bush, a glowing aura of dark blue magical energy emanating from the palms of your hands. You perform a cupping motion, turning your palms up and pushing your hands upward.

Through these motions, you coax the wilting flowers to life, their petals unfurling and blossoming into resplendent bloom under your arcane influence.

At the magical transformation, Talia's eyes brighten in amazement. "Wow! That was amazing!"

"Does that mean you're a witch, Miss Y/N?" she curiously wonders aloud.

You chuckle softly, nodding with pride. "Indeed, it does."

"Now, would you like a flower of your own?" you ask.

She nods with enthusiasm. "Yes, please!"

With a graceful gesture, you pluck a flower from the bush, cradling it delicately between your thumb and forefinger. Once again, you motion cast your magic, hand hovering over the white flower. "Here, I've enchanted the flower only for you, so that it may never wither away and may serve as a token of protection for you as long as you wear it."

With a radiant smile, you tuck the flower behind her ear, eliciting a giggle of delight from the child. "Thank you, miss Y/N!"

"Of course, little one." You smiled. "Now, let us return to the cottage; your parents must be awaiting our return. The dusk is upon us."

As the final night of your sojourn unfolded, the glow of the hearth waned, casting a flickering dance upon the walls of the cottage. Jakub, his countenance tinged with gravity, began to speak, "Y/N, Valoris has a knack for ensnaring those who dwell within its confines. Your benevolence, however, has been a guiding light, yet we must impress upon you the importance of discretion. Valoris harbors a history shrouded in shadows. Our family has found refuge here, shielded from prying eyes. The consequences would be dire if our existence were laid bare."

Meeting his gaze, an unspoken understanding passed between you. "I hold in high regard the sanctity of your privacy, Jakub. Your secret remains safe with me."

Esmae, her eyes reflecting a blend of relief and trepidation, nodded in gratitude. "Y/N, you've ushered a glimmer of hope into our lives. We are forever indebted to you."

In humility, you shook your head, but a moment of pause followed. Just as you had disclosed your plans to Jin, Jungkook, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Namjoon, you felt compelled to share it with Esmae and Jakub, as well.

Ensuring Talia lay in peaceful slumber, you returned your attention to the couple. "There is something I must share with you both."

Regret tinged your words as you confessed, "I harbor intentions of departing this kingdom, venturing beyond our borders."

To your surprise, instead of immediate reservations similar to your seven companions, their countenances displayed understanding and acceptance. "We understand," they echoed in unison.

"Pentaraegis is becoming increasingly perilous for you," Esmae sighed. "Though we reside on the outskirts, we are aware of the unrest brewing in the capital villages, and the royal family's eagerness to deploy their elite military unit for impending inquisitions. They merely await the faintest pretext to dispatch them."

A solemn nod conveyed your acknowledgment. "However, my departure is not imminent. I do not plan on it being permanent; Though, I am uncertain of the duration I will be absent..."

Jakub's calloused hand gently alighted upon your shoulder, halting your words. "Do not worry, Y/N. We understand, truly."

His kind eyes shifted to Esmae, who offered a content nod, and then returned to you. "You have bestowed upon us more than words can convey. In times of adversity, remember our home is always open to you."

Moved by their sincerity, you managed a teary smile. "It has been an honor to be acquainted with your family. I shall carry the tales of Valoris with me, returning whenever the opportunity arises."

As the conversation lingered in the twilight hours, Jakub's demeanor softened further. "Y/N, you carry a uniqueness that transcends the bounds of this realm. Your departure, whenever it may be, is a testament to your adventurous spirit. May the winds of fate guide you, and may the memories here remain etched in your heart."

On the following morning your preparations to depart drew the family to the entrance of their quaint cottage. Talia clutched your hand, her eyes reflecting unspoken sentiments. "Will you return, Y/N?" she inquired, her voice carrying a delicate vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

Bending at the knee to level with her, you replied, "I promise, Talia. I'll return whenever I can."

Standing, you exchanged glances with Esmae and Jakub. "Thank you for allowing me to form such bonds with you."

With a gentle upturn of their lips, they responded, "No, thank you, for your persistent kindness, Y/N."

Before your departure, Esmae presented a gift, aware of your loss and the absence of tangible memories of your parents. "I may not stand in your mother's stead, nor can I supplant her memory, but as one mother to another, accept this handmade garment. May it bring warmth on chilly nights."

With eyes filled with emotion, you received the blue cloth garment with delicate care. "It may not be perfection, but—" Esmae began, only to be interrupted by your heartfelt interjection. "It is absolute perfection."

"Thank you," you uttered, your vision blurred by tears of joy, as you enveloped her in an embrace, met with equal fervor. In a whisper, she conveyed her parting wish. "May your travels be marked by safety."

As you retraced your steps through the makeshift cobblestone pathway of Valoris, a profound sense of fulfillment and connection accompanied you. The bonds formed over those two duskars surpassed mere acts of kindness; they transcended the boundaries of secrecy and solitude.

As you approached the entrance of the capital village, a congregation of your companions awaited your return, their countenances a medley of curiosity and concern. A mirthful grin adorned your lips as you beheld their gathering.

Taehyung, with alacrity, snapped his head up upon noticing your approach. "Y/N—! Our princess has graced us with her presence!" His stride towards you mirrored that of a child rushing into the embrace of a long-lost parent.

A melodious giggle escaped your lips as you welcomed his theatrics, allowing him to enfold you in a lavish hug, twirling you about as his arms encircled you.

"Greetings, Taehyung." Laughter lingered as he gently set you down.

The others promptly joined the reunion, hastening toward you. Jimin was the first by your side. "You cannot fathom how preoccupied my mind was with your well-being, though your absence was but brief."

You chuckled, "You need not have worried, Jimin. I have returned unharmed."

He playfully rolled his eyes. "Indeed, we are indebted to the heavens for that."

"I suspect Jimin may suffer from separation anxiety during your impromptu sojourns," Jungkook jestingly interjected.

Jimin feigned a frowning glare. "That is an unfounded accusation!"

Jin, joining the playful banter, added with a smile, "If memory serves me right, Jimin, you were so consumed with worry over Y/N that you sought solace on her couch, claiming it to be the 'closest' you could feel to her in her absence."

A warm blush tinged Jimin's cheeks at the revelation of his clandestine actions during your absence. You shared a laugh over the unexpected disclosure. "Pay no mind to them, Y/N. They simply fail to value you as much as I do."

Taehyung scoffs in mock offense. "Absurd! We cherish Y/N as deeply as you do."

"Indeed, for instance—" Jungkook declared, seizing you suddenly and hoisting you onto his shoulder. You emitted a squeal in response to the abrupt maneuver. With effortless strength and athleticism, he sprinted away.

"Hey—!" Jimin and Taehyung exclaimed in unison, wearing matching pouts.

"Jungkook—! Exercise caution with her!" Jin admonished, giving chase along with the others, his worry akin to a parent scolding their wayward progeny.

As the impromptu race unfolded, the quaint charm of the capital village painted a picturesque scene. Cobblestone streets served as the stage for your lively pursuit, resonating with laughter and jests that danced through the air.

Jungkook's agile strides effortlessly carried you along, his grasp firm yet gentle. The verdant surroundings blurred as he skillfully navigated the thoroughfare, the sun casting a warm, golden hue upon your spirited procession.

"Jungkook, you impetuous scoundrel! Release our friend this instant!" Jin's voice rang out, a mix of concern and amusement evident in his tone.

Jungkook's laughter echoed as he expertly weaved through the labyrinthine alleys. Before long, you all found yourselves in a bustling market square, where stalls overflowed with an assortment of wares. The townsfolk watched with bemusement, their daily routines momentarily interrupted by the eccentricity of your reunion.

Jin, panting slightly as he caught up, spoke between breaths, "You rascal certainly know how to stir up a commotion."

"Well, pardon the commotion, good sir," Jungkook quipped, his grin mischievous as ever. "We merely seek to enliven these dreary streets."

Hoseok, now catching up, adds with a smile. "Ah, the mirth of our reunion! It rivals the finest tales spun by bards in the village square!"

Hoseok, catching up, joined in with a smile. "Ah, the joy of our reunion! It rivals the most captivating tales spun by village bards!"

As the excitement settled, you all found respite in a charming courtyard adorned with vibrant flora and aged benches. Seated amidst this tranquil setting, Jin playfully chided Jungkook, his words tinged with affectionate reproach. "A lively reunion indeed, my dear Jungkook, but let us not forget propriety.”

Jungkook bowed in jest. "My apologies, Jin. The fervor of the moment overcame me."

Amidst the bustle, a quaint tavern caught our eye, its warm glow and enticing aroma beckoning like a siren's song. With enthusiasm, Hoseok proposed a venture into this inviting establishment, a suggestion met with unanimous agreement.

The rustic charm of the tavern enveloped you all, as the eight of you settled at a sturdy wooden table. Jin, ever the gentleman, pulled out your seat with gallant courtesy, earning a nod of gratitude as you took your place.

"Welcome, how may I serve you all?" inquired the server as she approached your table.

Jin turned to the server with a courteous smile. "For our party, might we partake in your specialty, the main dish of the emberis? And as we are humbly celebrating our friend's return," he gestured towards you, "perhaps a pint of cider for the lady, and only for her." A playful wink accompanied his words, causing your face to drop in shock.

(Emberis symbolizes the sparks of activity and intensity within a week. It reflects the dynamic nature of each seven-day period.)

Your expression falters in surprise. "Jin—such extravagance is unwarranted. I've only been away for two duskars. And what about the rest of you? Surely you have as much right to partake in libations."

Hoseok shakes his head with a smile, interjecting, "You forget, dear Y/N, that we are sworn to protect. Though off duty now, we must remain vigilant, especially in the company of our lady."

You concede with a playful huff. "If you all insist..." Then, a sudden realization strikes you. "But what of the expense? It could prove quite burdensome."

Jin places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his smile gentle. "Do not fret, Y/N. We shall cover the cost. To us, the price is naught compared to the joyous occasion we share together."

At last, the server returns, presenting your cider beside you and placing a plate of food before the party of eight. "Thank you," Jin acknowledges with a slight bow.

"So, Y/N—how fared your time with the kin in Valoris?" Jin inquires as he serves himself a portion.

"It was truly sentimental," you begin, recounting simple yet bonding activities with Esmae, Jakub, and Talia. You omitted the part where you demonstrated your magical abilities to Talia but conveyed that your stay was a joyous time well spent.

"That's heartening to hear, Y/N," Namjoon remarked. "It appears you forged a beautiful bond with this small family."

A small, appreciative smile graced your face. "Indeed, and I'm grateful. They've taught me the beauty of simplicity, despite my yearning for more spontaneous and adventurous pursuits."

"I'm pleased they treated you well," Jimin added, smiling.

"Yes, and I must—" Before you can continue, a morsel of food is swiftly deposited into your mouth. Your eyes widen slightly in response to the unexpected gesture, darting from the hand that fed you to the composed countenance of Yoongi.

"You mustn't neglect sustenance," Yoongi stated matter-of-factly, his actions eliciting laughter from the others gathered around the table.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Valoris, young Talia stumbles upon a small note near her makeshift bed, left there in secret by you. With curiosity piqued, she unfolds the paper, reading your handwriting: "To my dear Talia, in my absence, should you find yourself missing me, I've left something to remind you of our bond. Guard it closely and share our secret with no one. Return to the spot where I bestowed upon you your special flower. There, you'll witness a wondrous sight that will always be there."

With excitement dancing in her eyes, Talia tucks the note away and hurries on her tiny feet to the place where you displayed your magical abilities. And there, she discovers a marvel. What was once a barren expanse now blooms with vibrant wildflowers. She gasps in wonder, her wide eyes drinking in the enchanting scene.

Back in the capital village, surrounded by your seven male companions. In all candor, your spirits, elevated beyond the ordinary by the liberal consumption of fermented libations, have led you to a state of inebriation. This amusing spectacle, much to the delight and mild concern of your companions, finds you atop a tavern table, engaging in a spirited dance amidst the company of four gentlemen seated below.

"By the heavens, Y/N, have a care!" Jin exclaims, his voice a harmonious blend of amusement and apprehension. "You'll topple over if you're not mindful."

You wave off his concern with a drunken grin, swaying precariously on the table. "Nonsense, Jin! I'm as steady as a ship in harbor." The tavern's patrons find themselves captivated, drawn to the infectious mirth of your spontaneous performance.

Namjoon, with a bemused shake of his head, counters, "You seem more akin to a ship ensnared by the fury of a storm, if I may be so bold."

Hoseok leaned in, a smile playing on his lips. "It seems our dear Y/N has become the centerpiece of the duskar's entertainment."

Jimin, unable to contain his laughter, adds, "Who could have anticipated such a delightful twist to our celebration?"

Yoongi, the embodiment of composure, observes with a raised brow. "Well, I must confess, this is not the typical mid-duskar I envisioned."

Taehyung, playing along with the revelry, clapped his hands, urging you on. "Encore, Y/N! Let the spirit of festivity direct your movements!"

Jin, with a broad grin, concurs, "Indeed, she has wholeheartedly surrendered to the spirits of the occasion."

Your laughter cascades through the tavern as you daringly attempt a spin, nearly losing your footing. Jungkook extends a hand to steady you, a grin adorning his features. "Careful now, Y/N. A tumble at this juncture would certainly stir quite the commotion."

Yet, their words of caution fall on deaf ears, your heart and soul enraptured by the euphoria of the moment. Intoxicated by both companionship and cider, your impromptu dance continues, filling the midday air with laughter and cheer.

Jungkook, turning his attention back to his six lovers, a smirk playing on his lips at your antics, suggests, "Perchance we ought to ensure she partakes of some sustenance, alongside copious amounts of water to mitigate the effects of her indulgence."

Jimin, catching the sentiment with a nod and a smile, adds. "Indeed, for her diminutive stature seems overly susceptible to the intoxicating effects."

"Yet one cannot deny the entertainment derived from the spectacle," Taehyung remarks with a nonchalant shrug.

A pause ensues before Hoseok ventures, "Pardon my interruption, but may I pose a query?"

"What is it, my love?" Jin responds.

"It has just occurred to me, have we neglected to inform Y/N about the masquerade ball set to occur in two duskars hence? Or has that detail escaped our collective remembrance?"

(duskar represents both day and night. It acknowledges the importance of celestial transitions and the balance between light and darkness.)

A series of awkward exchanges followed, confirming Hoseok's suspicion—that indeed, the event had slipped their minds. A collective sigh of mild frustration escaped him.

Jungkook playfully admonishes Jimin with a swat. "I was under the impression you had already informed her!"

Jimin, momentarily taken aback, retorts with a pout, "Indeed not! The responsibility was Taehyung's, as he was the most vocally enthusiastic about her attendance."

Taehyung, caught off guard, protests, "I beg your pardon! Namjoon advised it was premature for such disclosures, fearing it might dismay her."

All eyes then pivot to Namjoon, who, caught in the crossfire, adopts a stance of mock surrender. "Well—that was a concern of emberises past. I had assumed the matter would have been addressed by now."

Amidst this exchange, Yoongi, whose observance often goes unnoticed, glances towards the table, only to find your absence—and the departure of the four gentlemen as well. His protective instincts trigger, eyes slightly widening, for that could only mean one thing, and it's not a favorable one.

While the others continued their debate, oblivious to your absence, Yoongi attempted to interject. "Gentlemen..."

"Gentlemen..." His efforts to capture their attention were drowned out by the cacophony of their discussion.

Driven by a growing sense of urgency, Yoongi's patience waned, and he raised his voice, "Gentlemen! If you would but notice, our lady is conspicuously absent, and conveniently, so are the four gentlemen!"

The sudden revelation forces the boisterous banter to a halt as the six other men turn their attention to the now vacant table where you once danced. Panic seizes their expressions.

"Where is she?" Jin's voice betrays a mix of concern and urgency.

"She was right there a moment ago!" Hoseok scans the surroundings, his eyes widening with realization.

Jungkook, still attempting to locate you, mumbles, "This is why we shouldn't have let her drink so much."

Jimin looks around frantically, "She can't have gone far. Let's split up and find her."

The seven men scatter in different directions, anxiety clutching at them like an invisible vice. They interrogate patrons and innkeepers, desperately seeking clues about your whereabouts.

Meanwhile, you find yourself in a secluded alley, guided by four gentlemen who lured you away from the revelry. The initial thrill of the impromptu dance fades into confusion as you grapple to comprehend the situation.

"Where are you leading me?" you inquire, a blend of curiosity and unease in your voice.

The lead gentleman, adorned in a fine waistcoat and top hat, smirks. "To a realm where merriment and revelry know no bounds, my dear. A concealed treasure for the privileged few."

The others exchange sly glances, and a sinking feeling settles in as the desolate alley grows more ominous.

Back with your companions, the search intensifies. Jungkook's voice pierces through the tension. "Over here! I found something."

The group converges on Jungkook, who points to a discarded ribbon, a familiar one that once adorned your hair. Anxiety deepens as the realization of potential harm sets in.

"We must find her," Namjoon declares with determination. "Split up and scour every nook and cranny. She can't be far."

The group disperses once more, urgency and concern now replacing the initial joyous atmosphere.

In the hidden gem the gentlemen led you to, a dimly lit haven unfolds with plush furnishings and an air of opulence. The four men encircle you, their intentions growing increasingly apparent.

"Welcome to the Fable Flame," the lead gentleman declares, his smirk widening. "A sanctuary for those seeking pleasures beyond the ordinary."

Your eyes widen with realization, fear and defiance flickering in your gaze. "I did not choose this. Release me!"

The other three men exchange predatory glances, and your attempts to retreat prove futile within the confines of the room.

Back in the bustling capital village, the seven men comb through the streets, their worry escalating. Yoongi, with determination etched on his face, spots a torn piece of fabric on a nearby fence—an unmistakable fragment of your dress.

His heart races as he follows the trail, the search taking a dark turn, the situation growing more dire.

Within the dimly lit chamber, the four men forcefully press you against an ornate bed. The lead gentleman, a sinister smirk etched on his face, handles you with a roughness that sends shivers down your spine. "Resist as you may, my dear, but soon, you'll find solace in surrender."

"P-Please, no—" Your plea barely escapes your lips, swallowed by the heavy air of despair.

Driven by urgency, your companions scour the area fervently, the tattered fabric guiding them to a dilapidated structure.

Yoongi, a resolute figure at the forefront, senses impending danger. "This way," he murmurs, his voice a whisper against the backdrop of doom.

Cautiously, the group ventures into the building, senses alert to the ominous silence. Each creak of the floorboards, each rustle of fabric, echoes with foreboding. As they navigate labyrinthine corridors, a distant door groans open, revealing a chamber steeped in darkness.

Pushing the door ajar, Yoongi's eyes widen—a macabre tableau unfolds within. You, pinned like a sacrificial lamb, beneath the sinister gaze of the lead gentleman and his cohorts. Tension crackles in the air, thick with the scent of fear and defiance.

A moment of silence ensues as the captors take stock of the intruders. The lead gentleman's smirk widens, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Ah, latecomers to the party. How quaint."

Yoongi's gaze hardens, his resolve unyielding. "Release her. Now."

The lead gentleman's grip tightens on your chin, his touch invasive and possessive. "And why would I do that? She's rather enjoying herself, wouldn't you agree?"

Your glassy eyes, wide with terror. "I beg of you, help me..."

Yoongi, accompanied by Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, refrained from uttering a single word. An unbridled rage burned within them, propelling them forward into an imminent clash with the three assailants.

Simultaneously, as the skirmish erupted, the chief antagonist, maintaining his grip on you, surveyed the unfolding brawl with malevolent intent. His eyes gleamed with malice, and then, shifting his gaze toward you, he declared, "Do you reckon you can elude me with ease? I beg to differ."

With a sudden flourish, he extracted a gleaming blade from his boot, discreetly seizing you by the hair and hauling you off the bed, dragging you into the center of the room. "That's enough!"

Seizing the moment, he pressed the knife against your neck, eliciting a collective pause from your seven companions and the three adversaries. "Any further trouble, and I'll slit her throat without a second thought."

Jungkook moved to intervene, but Namjoon swiftly halted him. "Hold."

"But Namjoon—" Jungkook protested, only to be silenced by a raised hand, signifying a steadfast refusal.

"Listen to him," the captor jeered, grinning spitefully.

"Release her, and there will be no further altercation," Namjoon asserted.

The captor chuckled darkly. "Can't a man enjoy himself a bit first? You lot are men, too, aren't you? Surely, you understand the value of personal pleasures."

"There's a disparity between being merely a man and a true gentleman. The former lacks honor, much like yourself. As gentlemen, we comprehend the significance of consent, a virtue conspicuously absent in your demeanor," Hoseok retorted with a seething tone.

The captor's eyes narrowed at Hoseok's words before abruptly turning his attention back to you. "Come now, my dear, prove to these 'gentlemen' that you welcomed this."

Your silence seemed to irritate him further. The blade traced a perilous path from your neck downward, nearing the delicate contours of your breasts.

Yet, before he could proceed further, a cry of pain erupted as he fell to the ground, a double-ended knife embedded in his shoulder. Your gaze shifted to Jimin, his hand still outstretched from the throw, his eyes ablaze with fury.

Turning toward the remaining captors, Jimin questioned, "Who among you wishes to follow suit?"

Fear flickered across the faces of the trio, their heads shaking vehemently. "Leave, or I'll kill you myself," Jimin commanded, prompting the men to hastily flee.

Empowered by the turn of events, you found strength in your legs, hastening towards your seven guardians. Jimin extended his arms, enveloping you protectively. His nose nestled atop your head, a palpable sigh of relief escaping him.

Yoongi advanced towards the wounded miscreant with a demeanor that brooked no argument. "Should you ever lay a hand on a woman in such a manner again, I shall personally hunt you down and dismantle you limb from limb. Understand?"

The captor nodded fervently, his attempts to suppress his whimpers of pain were futile, as his quivering lip gave away his torment.

Without a flicker of emotion, Yoongi then seized the hilt of the double-ended blade, a cruel reminder of the violence just passed.

With a swift, unyielding yank, he liberated the weapon from flesh, crimson torrents cascading from the gaping wound, staining his hands and the ground beneath him. His face remained a mask of impassive justice, marred only by the flecks of blood that adorned his features like macabre war paint.

Posthaste, Yoongi returned to where you stood, with a gentleness that belied the stern resolve of his previous actions, he divested himself of his royal soldier's coat and placed it upon your shoulders, a protective mantle to shield you from the unusual chill of atmosphere and the ordeal you had endured.

He then turned to Jimin, extending the reclaimed weapon with a nod, "Let us return home." Yoongi declared, his tone now softened.

Back at your humble abode, your companions gallantly escorted you home, forming a protective cocoon around you even upon crossing the threshold. Jimin's strong arms encircled you, a fortress of reassurance.

Not a single word needed to be uttered, for the unspoken understanding prevailed amongst your close-knit group. Jungkook, swift and decisive, took the lead, his movements within your sanctuary as natural as if he were navigating his own domain, seeking flint and steel to kindle a warming blaze in the hearth.

Hoseok hastened to your kitchen, concocting a soothing blend of chamomile and peppermint for a rejuvenating tea. Jin, his hands deftly moving in the manner of an experienced caretaker, joined Hoseok in preparing a basin of cool water, a washcloth, and a small bar of soap, ready to tenderly cleanse away the remnants of the late afternoon’s turmoil. Following suit, Yoongi ventured into the kitchen, presumably to whip up a modest repast that would serve to counteract the intoxicating remnants coursing through you.

As for Taehyung, he proceeded into your bedroom, searching for fresh attire and, albeit awkwardly, extracting your more intimate garments. Their intent on ministering to your well-being, they choreographed their efforts with finesse.

Jimin and Namjoon, however, maintained their steadfast vigil by your side, their protective presence lingering even in the absence of immediate peril. Presently, Taehyung emerged from the sanctity of your bedchamber, announcing with a gentle timbre, “I have your attire prepared for you, Y/N.”

Gazing up at him, a weariness from spirits evident in your eyes, you expressed gratitude, "Thank you, Tae."

Acknowledging your thanks with a nod and a smile, he beckoned, “Come along, now.”

Jimin effortlessly lifted you in his arms, carrying you with bridal grace towards the sanctuary of your bedchamber, with Jin trailing close behind, the basin and its accouterments in hand.

“Before we proceed to clothe you anew, let us first tend to cleansing, shall we?” Jin suggested, his tone one of gentle insistence.

Your response was a weary nod, an assent given as Jimin tenderly deposited you upon your bed. Jin, with delicate precision, moved a portion of your clothing aside to begin the cleansing process. Yet, in an unforeseen twist, you impulsively divested yourself of the garment entirely, sending a ripple of astonishment through Jimin, Taehyung, and Jin, their eyes widening in unison.

Jimin and Taehyung, in a chivalrous retreat, averted their gaze, while Jin, startled, lifted his eyes heavenward, engendering a collective symphony of awkward coughs. A warm flush brushed their cheeks as they realized you had inadvertently exposed yourself. Perhaps, in the closeness of your bond, you had grown accustomed to their presence, regardless of your activities or location.

Namjoon entered the room at that moment, intending to convey updates. However, his eyes widened as he grasped the awkward tableau before him. "Oh—!" Hastily, he turned away, a mirrored action of respect.

Your reaction time, slowed by alcohol, eventually processed their collective retreat. "Why? Is there something amiss with my appearance?" you queried with a subtle pout, oblivious to your own actions.

Jin cleared his throat, attempting to dispel the awkwardness. “N-no! Far from it...” He continued his ministrations without letting his gaze stray to more intimate areas.

Your gaze lifted abruptly, questioning Jin directly, "Am I not beautiful?"

Without premeditation, Jin met your gaze, sincerity softening his features. “No, you are the most enchanting woman my eyes have beheld. No other can compare."

"He speaks true," Taehyung and Jimin murmured in agreement.

Interrupting the moment, Namjoon interjected, “Indeed—apologies for my intrusion. I merely wished to inform you that Jungkook has kindled the fire, Hoseok has concocted the tea, and Yoongi is nearly done preparing a modest yet nourishing repast for you. Freshen up at your pace; we'll be waiting outside."

Namjoon directed a pointed gaze at Jimin and Taehyung, a silent command hanging in the air. “I said, we shall all convene outside. Shall we, gentlemen?” Namjoon emphasized, his message finally registering with the duo.

“Awh, do we truly have to—” Taehyung began to whine, cut short by Namjoon seizing him by the collar and dragging him outside, while Jimin followed without protest. And with a closing door, a semblance of privacy returned.

In the wake of those moments, Jin gracefully exited your chamber, allowing you the privacy to don your fresh attire. The burly gentleman then reentered the kitchen, deftly disposing of the soiled water, and briefly refreshing the washcloth before reinstating the small basin and soap to their rightful places.

Just then, Jin catches a redolence wafting from the viands that Yoongi is diligently culminating, adroitly depositing the contents into an intricately carved wooden bowl. "Oooh, that aroma is quite delightful..."

"Is that pottage you've concocted, Yoongi dear?" Jin inquires, casting a discerning glance as Yoongi continues to ladle the savory mixture into the receptacle, to which Yoongi grunts affirmatively in response.

"How did you acquire the meat for it?" Jin asks, a tad taken aback by the presence of poultry within.

"Leftovers from her pots," Yoongi tersely responds, prompting Jin to nod in comprehension with a soft 'ah' escaping his lips.

Subsequently, the gathering reconvened in the living room, ensconced by the warmth of your fireplace. Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin repose upon the floor adjacent to the central coffee table, while Hoseok and Namjoon grace the solitary sofa chairs flanking the table. Jin settled on one end of the three-seater couch, and Yoongi adorns the tray on the table, featuring the potation prepared by Hoseok and the delectable pottage.

Moments later, you emerged from your quarters, resplendent in the attire previously selected by Taehyung. Jungkook, ever the gallant escort, offered his arm, guiding you towards the couch where the tea and Yoongi's culinary creation awaited.

Observing the tray's contents, your eyes traverse the assembly—Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. "Thank you for attending to my well-being."

Warm smiles were exchanged. "Anything for you," they chorused.

Leaning forward, Jin extended an offer, "Would you care for some pottage? You needn't consume it all, but it might aid your recovery, along with the tea."

"Absolutely, I could never decline sustenance crafted by Lord Yoongi," you chuckled, injecting a touch of levity into the atmosphere despite the recent perilous events.

Jin commences assisting you, offering spoonfuls of pottage and elevating the teacup to your lips with finesse. Meanwhile, the others lounge, engaged in casual conversations as if the now early evening were ordinary.

You lapse into momentary silence, contemplative of recent occurrences. Without premeditation, you articulate your ruminations aloud. "We must put an end to such establishments. None should endure such cruelty."

A collective pause ensued, truth be told, they anticipate such sentiments from you, cognizant of your altruistic nature despite enduring adversity. Jin, wearing a serene smile, interjected, "We shall address that in due course. For now, our primary concern is your well-being."

As Jin brought the spoon to your lips, you swallowed the contents, falling momentarily silent before another thought found its voice. "I just remembered something I forgot to inquire about."

All eyes turned toward you. "What is it, Y/N?"

After a momentary hesitation, you muster the courage to voice your inquiry. "Um... I happened upon a handbill in the capital village mentioning a masquerade ball scheduled in two duskars… I am intrigued and wondered if you all are aware of it."

A measure of astonishment registers on their visages, realizing they had intended to extend an invitation emberises ago but had inadvertently overlooked it, fearing you might eschew the prospect. Now, with your inquiry, a sense of relief washes over them, empowering them to broach the subject.

Hoseok's eyes illuminate with enthusiasm. "That sounds like an excellent proposition!"

"Truly?" You sheepishly smiled, Hoseok nodding enthusiastically. However, your countenance shifted, "Yet, I lack an appropriate gown for such an occasion."

Jin dismisses the concern with a wave of his hand. "Nonsense, Y/N. Have you forgotten the company you keep?" A trace of playful arrogance graces his countenance. "I shall summon the finest tailors to craft a gown that befits your beauty."

"Would you truly do that, Jinnie?" you asked, your eyes alight with gratitude.

"Of course!" he affirmed, as Jimin added, "And fear not, Y/N. Your beauty transcends attire; you shall outshine every woman present at the ball."

"Thank you, Jimin," you murmured shyly. "So, would you all be willing to accompany me?"

Collective nods affirm your query, prompting a grateful smile from you. "I am filled with anticipation! It shall be my first ball. Thank you!"

Fatigue abruptly descends upon you, manifesting in a yawn. The attentive septet takes notice, Jin, seated beside you, gently placing the bowl and spoon aside. "Are you weary?"

You nod in acknowledgment. Hoseok rises. "I shall stow away the dishes."

Jin inquires, "Would you prefer to retire to your chamber for repose, Y/N?" You wearily shake your head. "No, I would rather remain here. Sleep among you all, if that's acceptable."

Jin smiles warmly. "More than acceptable. Come, recline upon me." He nudges you gently, prompting you to rest your head upon his lap, your feet propped upon the couch.

Unseen by you, Jungkook promptly fetched a blanket, draping it over you with care. You adjust yourself for comfort. "Apologies, I realize it is still early evening—"

"It understandable. The exertions from your journey on foot from Valoris earlier this morn, coupled with the spirited dancing at the tavern until the, shall we say, 'mishap' we encountered, surely have wearied you," Taehyung interjects with a chuckle.

"Rest, Y/N. You are deserving of it," Namjoon advises.

Before long, you succumbed to slumber, a serene quietude enveloped the chamber, broken only by the gentle cadence of your breathing, a testament to the peaceful slumber you had found.

"So, are we to dismiss Yoongi's earlier allusion to Y/N as 'our lady'?" Taehyung pondered aloud, his posture relaxed, hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of casual reflection.

The inquiry lingered, casting a shared exchange of glances among the septet, each harboring individual musings on the matter. Yoongi, a man of sparse words, appeared unperturbed by the collective gaze. Yet, a faint amusement flickered across his visage, betraying his stoic exterior.

A playful smirk danced upon Jungkook's lips. "Indeed, we all took note. Might this signify an evolving affection for our esteemed Y/N, dear Yoongi?"

A momentary tension draped the room, only to be dispelled by Yoongi's scoff. "Absurdity. I merely acknowledged her rightful standing among us."

Jungkook's brows arched mischievously. "'Rightful standing,' you say? Be cautious, Yoongi, your words reveal more than you may intend."

"It seems to me," Namjoon interjected with a sly grin, "that we've all discerned a certain... tenderness in Yoongi's address. A sentiment perhaps deeper than he admits."

Jimin, unable to resist joining the banter, shared his insight with a cunning smile. "It is a rare occasion indeed for Yoongi to bestow such a title upon anyone. It does carry a significance, does it not?"

Attempting to steer the conversation away from the burgeoning speculation, Yoongi retorted, "Your interpretations far exceed the bounds of reason. Let us rather concentrate on her welfare and the impending masquerade."

Taehyung leaned in, his expression one of impish delight. "Yet, 'our lady' carries a resonance, does it not? A phrase befitting someone of special regard, not merely a companion."

Jungkook rejoined the conversation with a gleam of mischief, "Mayhap Yoongi's affections have indeed been kindled by our fair Y/N."

Jimin added with a grin, "Well, she is quite captivating. Who wouldn't be enchanted by her?" His gaze then tenderly fell upon you, a warmth evident in his eyes.

This display of affection did not escape the notice of the others. Despite the complex web of their polyamory relationship, no shadow of envy or malcontent marred their feelings towards each other's evident fondness for you, a phenomenon that baffled them yet remained unquestioned.

Hoseok voiced his reflections, his gaze affectionate as he watched you. "Indeed... Our companionship with her, spanning from the innocence of childhood to the cusp of adulthood, has always been a wellspring of mutual care and affection."

Jin, with a gentle demeanor, softly brushed away the errant strands of hair veiling your face, tucking them behind your ear with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "If only she comprehended the depth of her significance to us,” he whispered, more to himself than to the others.

Namjoon, less obvious but still captivated, stared at you. "I believe she perceives it, on some level... she must."

"And I am certain she reciprocates the sentiment," he added.

Two duskars had elapsed, and at last, the eve of the grand ball had arrived. Jin, true to his word, had summoned one of the most esteemed tailors in the kingdom to create a gown for you, meticulously taking your measurements and ensuring the attire aligned with your desires. A bespoke mask was also crafted, intended to complement the elegance of your gown for the impending masquerade.

Admittedly, the experience of being measured was a novel one, with an array of hands adjusting and clothing pins perilously close to your skin. Despite the initial discomfort, the attention bestowed upon you instilled a sense of importance, marking your initiation into the realm of pampering. Jin and, unsurprisingly, Hoseok collaborated to orchestrate a comprehensive makeover. In the fleeting hours leading up to the ball, skilled artisans in makeup and hairdressing dedicated themselves to enhancing your allure. Finally, adorned in your custom gown, the transformation was complete.

The transformation was, without a shadow of a doubt, breathtaking. Though you remained unaware of the extent of your beauty, the moment of reveal was imminent. Descending the staircase of Jin's opulent abode, where preparations for the masquerade had been made, you were about to present yourself to the collective gaze of Jungkook, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi. They awaited at the foot of the stairs, each garbed in suits of exquisite craftsmanship, their attire reflecting their noble status within the kingdom yet tailored for this special occasion.

The moment your presence graced the final steps, their faces mirrored an awe that rendered them momentarily speechless.

Dressed in a dark blue ball gown, its sleeves adorned with delicate lace and gems that sparkled like stars, you became the focal point of their admiration. The atmosphere hung thick with admiration as your eyes met theirs, and a subtle nervousness crept in, amplified by their prolonged silence. "Is something amiss?" you nervously inquired.

"Do I not appear well in this attire?" you added.

"No!" they exclaimed in unison, their initial shock breaking into a cacophony of reassurances.

Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly. "Certainly not, Lady Y/N. You're resplendent."

"Arguably the most stunning vision to grace our lives," Jungkook gently interjected.

You looked away, bashfully dismissing their compliments. "Oh, you're all merely attempting to flatter me. I can't possibly—"

"No flattery intended, Y/N," Jin interjected. "You truly are beautiful."

"In any attire, you radiate beauty, but tonight, it's truly exceptional," Jimin stumbled over his words, his gaze unwavering. Enchanted by your presence, all seven pairs of eyes remained fixated on you.

Namjoon took a decisive step forward, capturing your attention as he extended his hand, a silent request for your company. "Shall we make our way to the ball? A full night awaits us."

With a smile, you acquiesced, "We shall."

The grand ballroom, adorned in lavish splendor, embraced the seven of you as you entered. The melodic strains of a waltz commenced, enticing you into the dance with Namjoon. His authoritative yet gentle demeanor guided your steps, immersing you in the graceful whirl of the ballroom. Amidst the elegant rotations, conversation flowed effortlessly like a gentle stream.

"Your gown exudes the regal elegance of a bygone era," Namjoon remarked, his charming smile captivating your gaze.

"You're too gracious," you replied, returning his smile. "It seems I owe you all my deepest gratitude for this enchanting evening."

Namjoon's laughter resonated through the dance, "The pleasure is ours, fair Y/N. Your radiance illuminates this soirée."

As the waltz concluded, Hoseok approached, eager to share a dance. His movements exuded buoyancy, mirroring his exuberant spirit. "May I say, you're a vision, Y/N. A testament to tonight's splendors."

Chuckling, you responded, "I owe this transformation to the skilled hands of many, including yours and Jin’s, Hoseok."

His grin widened. "A collaborative effort to enhance the innate beauty you possess, my lady."

Following suit was Jungkook, his dance exuding youthful vitality. "You resemble a character from a fairy tale, Y/N. A modern-day Cinderella."

"Such flattering comparisons," you chuckled, "but this fairy tale boasts seven charming princes."

Jungkook's laughter echoed. "I am honored to be counted among them, fair maiden."

As the dance with Jungkook concluded, Taehyung approached with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I must confess, Y/N, your beauty leaves us speechless. A rare occurrence, I assure you."

You grinned. "I suppose I should consider it a triumph, then."

Taehyung twirled you in an elaborate spin. "Indeed. A triumph of grace and beauty."

Yoongi then led the subsequent dance with effortless elegance. "You've added an enchanting touch to this gathering, Y/N. A night that shall be etched in memory."

"I am honored to be part of such a memorable occasion," you replied, matching his graceful movements.

Jimin, the final dance partner, led with a flair for the dramatic, whisking you into an energetic dance. "You've captivated us all, Y/N. A true siren amidst this sea of revelry."

Blushing, you playfully retorted, "You exaggerate, Jimin. The enchantment is mutual, I assure you."

A brief breathy chuckle escaped Jimin's lips as he gently swayed you to the music, letting a comfortable silence envelop both of you for a moment. Then, his eyes met yours, a hint of solemnity in his gaze. "Y/N, there's something I wish to express."

You hummed softly, directing your attention to him. "What is it, Jimin?"

He held your gaze, his expression earnest. "I wish to offer my gratitude."

Perplexed, you tilted your head slightly. "Gratitude? For what?"

"At that lake, in our youth, when we casted our wishes," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

You chuckled softly, recalling the memory. "You mean the 'magical' lake escapade?"

Jimin nodded, his smile widening. "Indeed. Your wish, amidst our materialistic desires, was simple yet profound. It shaped our journey in ways we hadn't realized until now."

"You hesitated to voice it initially, but I'm glad you found the courage to do so because it's likely the reason I find myself content where I am now. And it's because we're all together... And I like to think you played a significant role in making that happen. That's why I want to express my gratitude."

You smiled at his sentiment, gently releasing your hand from his to tenderly cup his cheek. "There's no need to thank me, Jimin. It wasn't solely my doing, but the collective effort of all of us. It's a great blessing that our friendship has endured through the years until now. And I hope fervently that it continues indefinitely, just as I wished."

Jimin leaned into your touch. "Well, considering how the wishes of myself and the other gentlemen seem to have come to fruition, I have no doubt yours will remain steadfast."

Returning to your dance position, you closed the distance between you and Jimin, resting your head against his shoulder as you swayed to the music. "Thank you, Jimin. And thank you for remaining my friend despite the disparity in our social standings."

"Nonsense. Our social status shouldn't dictate our friendship nor divide us," he insisted.

As the night progressed, the ballroom was filled with laughter, music, and the rustle of elegant gowns, enveloping the atmosphere. Eventually, you excused yourself to refresh, your throat parched from the laughter and conversation. Approaching the refreshment table, your hand hovered over a glass when a smooth yet unfamiliar voice interrupted.

"Such beauty should never be left unattended, even in a room filled with admirers," the stranger remarked, his tone laden with compliments as his eyes appraised you.

You offered a polite smile, unsure of his intentions. "Thank you, sir. The evening has been most enjoyable," you replied, trying to maintain the courteous yet distant demeanor taught to you for such encounters.

"But surely, it could be improved with the right company," he persisted, stepping closer in a manner that reduced the distance between you. His words were designed to charm, yet they began to weave a web of discomfort around you.

"The company I keep is of my choosing, and it has been most delightful thus far," you countered, your tone firm yet polite, hoping to convey your lack of interest in prolonging this interaction.

Undeterred, the stranger continued, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Alan, and I must say, your beauty has captivated my every sense."

You nodded in acknowledgment. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Alan. I am Y/N."

He extended a gloved hand, adorned with rings that caught the light. "Might I have the honor of this dance, dear Lady? The night is young, and a moment with you is a treasure."

Politely declining, you explained, "I appreciate the offer, sir, but I must return to the festivities."

Undeterred, he insisted, "Just one dance, my lady. I promise it will be a memory to cherish."

Reluctantly, you acquiesced, allowing yourself to be led back onto the dance floor. As the music enveloped you, the stranger's conversation veered toward increasingly personal topics. His compliments escalated, each word designed to captivate and charm. Sir Alan skillfully prolonged the conversation, feeling uncomfortable, you attempted to gracefully disengage, only to find yourself guided toward the secluded gardens, away from prying eyes.

Amidst the moonlit flora, the stranger's intentions became clearer. "Lady Y/N, a night like this deserves to be savored in private. Away from the prying eyes of the crowd, don't you think?"

Your stomach twisted with unease as you struggled to maintain composure. "I am grateful for your company, sir, but I must return to my friends."

A grin adorned his face, concealing a more sinister motive. "Why hasten, my lady? The night is yet youthful, and so are we. Let us venture further into the gardens together, free from the shackles of society."

A sense of alarm tingled at the edges of your consciousness. Politely but firmly, you asserted, "I appreciate your company, but I must insist on returning to the ballroom. My absence may arouse suspicion, and I would not wish to cause any distress."

Undeterred, the stranger persisted, "Why subject yourself to the mundane when an adventure beckons? A stroll amidst the moonlit gardens, a dance beneath the stars—does that not sound infinitely more alluring?"

Struggling against the mounting unease, you firmly declared, "I appreciate the offer, but I must decline. My place is with my companions."

His demeanor shifted, revealing a more assertive side. "My lady, do not be hasty in dismissing the potential for a night of unparalleled delight. Embrace the possibilities, for in the gardens, secrets unfold, and desires are realized."

A chill ran down your spine as his words hung in the air. Determined to extricate yourself from this unsettling encounter, you mustered the strength to firmly assert, "I thank you for the dance, Sir, but I must return to the ballroom."

As you turned to leave, the stranger's grip tightened, his tone taking on a darker hue. "Lady Y/N, the night is full of mysteries, and in the gardens, secrets are shared. Would you not yearn for a tale untold, a moment unrestrained?"

Alarmed, you managed to free yourself from his grasp, hastily retreating back to the ballroom. The warmth and familiarity of the dance floor welcomed you, a stark contrast to the disconcerting encounter in the moonlit gardens.

Unbeknownst to you, the night held further surprises, and the echoes of that encounter lingered, casting a shadow over the revelry. Stepping back into the ballroom, the familiar countenances of Jin, Jungkook, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Yoongi greeted you. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to concern, noting your brief absence.

Namjoon, ever astute, observed your return. "Lady Y/N, you have returned! How fared your brief respite?"

Smiling, you replied, "It was an intriguing interlude, to say the least. Sir Alan proves to be quite the charismatic conversationalist."

Jin raised an eyebrow, his noble bearing intact. "Sir Alan, you say? I trust his charm did not overstep its bounds."

You assured them, "Nothing of the sort, Jin. Merely persistent, but I managed to gracefully extricate myself.”

The assembly of gentlemen before you shared a look amongst themselves, a silent pact forming to address any untoward advances. "He has not brought harm to you in any way, has he?" the collective concern in their voices was palpable.

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. “Thankfully, no. I am unharmed.”

Hoseok interjected, seeking to dispel any lingering unease within you. “Well, it gladdens me to hear of your well-being. Now, might we turn our attention to Jungkook's lamentable inability to engage in the simplest of social exchanges without resorting to awkwardness?""

Jungkook, mortified at being the subject of jest, protested in a tone laden with embarrassment. "Must you fault me for my reticence in the company of others beyond our intimate circle?" His words, though tinged with self-deprecation, only served to endear him further to the group, inciting a chorus of snickers and teasing smiles.

As the night waned, the gentlemen gathered around, exchanging words of encouragement, reminiscing about childhood memories, and relishing each other’s company.

As the final notes of the music wafted through the air and the ballroom began to empty, you found yourself waiting outside the grand entrance staircase alone, while Namjoon and Jin went to fetch the quadravicar, Jungkook and Taehyung piled plates with leftovers despite Jin’s reprimands, and Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok excused themselves to the bathroom.

It was then, amidst the solitude, that you felt a gentle tap, a discreet summons that turned you to face the ever-persistent Sir Alan. His approach was measured, his gaze alight with an unmistakable admiration.

"Lady Y/N, the evening's end could not pass without me bestowing upon you the accolades your magnificent aura so rightly deserves. Might I have the honor of accompanying you to your quadravicar?" he proposed, his bow imbued with a blend of earnestness and anticipation.

While gratitude tinged your response, caution tempered your words. "Your offer is received with gratitude, Sir Alan, however, my companions have already made provisions for my departure."

His gaze briefly flitted about, seeking, perhaps, confirmation of your words before returning to meet your own. "But as I observe, your companions seem momentarily absent. Pray, allow me the privilege of extending my company a while longer.”

His sudden grasp upon your wrist, though not forceful, was unexpected, prompting a startled response from you. "Sir Alan—"

Before you could articulate your refusal, a familiar presence interposed itself between you and potential impropriety. "And to what destination do you presume to escort my lady?" Hoseok's voice, firm and unyielding, forced Sir Alan's hand to release its hold.

Taken aback, Sir Alan stammered, his composure momentarily faltering in the face of Hoseok's authoritative stance. "O-Oh! Lord Hoseok, I—"

Yet, it was not Hoseok alone who stood in defense; Yoongi and Jimin too had materialized, forming a united front. Jimin, his tone laden with an earnest gravity, pressed for an answer. "We would be most obliged if you would enlighten us, Sir Alan. Your persistence is unwelcome, and it is evident that she has declined your company."

Sir Alan, sensing the gravity of the situation and the unyielded gaze of your companions, chose his words with a care previously unexercised. "Gentlemen, my intentions were naught but to offer the lady a courteous companionship in the absence of her party.”

Hoseok, unwavering, retorted, "Courtesy does not involve disregarding a lady's wishes. Lady Y/N has made her intentions clear, and your company is not desired. Now, I suggest you depart before matters escalate."

Sir Alan chuckles, trying to defend himself. “It seems, however, that my actions were misjudged, and for that, I tender my sincerest apologies."

It was then, amidst the burgeoning tension, that Namjoon and Jin returned, their timely arrival adding to the formidable presence of your companions. With the quadravicar ready and your friends united in their defense, Sir Alan's intentions, however benign he claimed, were deemed unsuitable.

Namjoon, with a diplomatic grace, addressed Sir Alan, "Your intentions, while perhaps noble in your eyes, have trespassed the boundaries of decorum. We thank you for your interest, but Lady Y/N is well accounted for."

Sir Alan, sensing the seriousness of the situation, released a conciliatory sigh. "Apologies, Lady Y/N, Lords Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon. I meant no harm. If my presence is unwanted, I shall take my leave." With that, he withdrew, leaving you in the comforting circle of your friends.

The tension that had momentarily clouded the evening dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a sense of unity and protectiveness among you and your companions. Hoseok, breaking the silence, offered a light-hearted quip to restore the evening's jovial atmosphere. "Well, I dare say we've navigated that encounter with the poise of seasoned diplomats. Shall we consider it an adventure to regale in future gatherings?"

Laughter, light and unburdened, filled the air, reaffirming the bonds that tethered your spirits together. Jimin, with a smirk playing on his lips, added, "Indeed, it appears our little assembly can handle more than just casual soirees and diplomatic parleys. We're quite the formidable cohort when the occasion demands."

With spirits buoyed and hearts alight, you made your passage to the quadravicar. The episode with Sir Alan had not tainted the evening's festivity; rather, it had underscored the profound depth of allegiance and affection that defined your relationship with your companions.

Jungkook and Taehyung, the mischievous duo, were the last to clamber into the quadravicar, burdened with an assortment of laden boxes. All eyes turned to them, bemused by their conspicuous cargo.

Jin's gaze flickered between the boxes and the pair before he seized their ears with a swift pinch. "You scoundrels! Did I not explicitly instruct you against overindulgence? Have you no shame?"

The two offenders, wearing expressions of mock innocence, pout in response to Jin's reproach. "But Jin, the offerings were too delectable to resist! Surely even you would have succumbed to temptation!"

"And need I remind you, it was Taehyung's idea in the first place!" Jungkook interjected, attempting to wriggle free from Jin's grasp.

"Outrageous! Yes, I proposed the notion, but didn't you conveniently omitted the fact that you were the one weary of our customary fare back home?" Taehyung defended himself, a hint of indignation in his tone.

"Excuse me?!" Jin exclaimed, aghast. "Ingrates, the pair of you!"

As the quadravicar ambled away from the venue, the celestial canopy above seemed to sparkle with added brilliance, mirroring the mirth that filled the quadravicar as it resounded with laughter and good-natured banter.

"Say, Y/N," Jimin's voice breaks through the jovial atmosphere, his gaze warm and imploring, “would you mind if we all spent the night at your abode? It's been an age since we had a slumber party like in our youth," Jimin chimed in, his eyes sparkling with youthful enthusiasm.

"Of course, you are all welcome under my roof," you replied warmly.

And so, as the quadravicar grinds to a halt outside your humble abode, the final act of the evening unfolds. Stepping out into the crisp night air, the echoes of laughter linger like a sweet refrain, a testament to the enduring bonds that unite your circle of friends.

Entering your quaint abode, the warmth enveloped you like a comforting embrace. You busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing for the morning's repast, ensuring that all would be ready when dawn broke.

Meanwhile, your companions, weary from the night's revelry, began their preparations for slumber. Each found a spot to lay their heads, the weariness of the day gradually giving way to the embrace of sleep. Blankets are unfurled, pillows fluffed, and whispered conversations drift lazily through the air.

As the hour grows late and the weariness of the duskar begins to take its toll, your companions one by one succumb to the embrace of sleep. Soon, the room is filled with the soft symphony of gentle snores, a harmonious testament to the peace that reigns within.

Yet, as the night wears on and the world outside slumbers, you find yourself restless, your mind abuzz with thoughts of the duskar's events. Unable to quiet your thoughts, you rise from your bed and slip silently into the kitchen, intent on preparing a pot of tea to greet the dawn.

The soft clink of china and the faint rustle of linens filled the quietude as you busied yourself in the kitchen, ensuring that everything would be in order for the forthcoming day. Lost in thought, you scarcely noticed the passage of time until a sudden rap at the front door shattered the stillness, jolting you from your reverie.

With a furrowed brow, you approached the door, curiosity mingling with a hint of trepidation as you peered through the peephole, then cautiously opening your door ajar. "Who goes there?" you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night.

"Miss Y/N..." comes a timid yet recognizable voice, causing you to lower your gaze, finally laying eyes on the familiar figure standing outside your threshold.

Your eyes widen in recognition as you realize it's the young Thalia from the outskirts of Valoris. "Thalia! Heavens, what brings you here at such a late hour?"

"More importantly, how did you come here unaccompanied?" you query with urgency.

"I cannot rightly say, Miss. It's as though my feet had a will of their own, leading me to your abode," Thalia responds, her tearful gaze meeting yours, giving you pause as you sense all is not well.

You swing the door open wider, dropping to one knee to meet her eye level. "What’s the matter, little one?"

"It's my mother and father— they're in trouble," Thalia blurts out between hiccups.

Your brows furrow with concern and confusion. "Explain, Thalia. What do you mean they’re in trouble?”

The little girl breaks into fresh tears. “It's all my doing-!”

Thalia recounts the events leading to her arrival at your doorstep. She had been playing near the glade where you performed your magic of the wildflowers, when she caught sight of the approaching guards. Instinctively, she hid, but it seemed her presence had already drawn their attention to the area.

Your face softened into one of sadness and concern for Thalia; you knew precisely why those scavenger guards were now scouring the vicinity. The wildflowers in bloom, coaxed forth by your supernatural abilities, undoubtedly aroused deep suspicion—wildflowers in the waning days of autumn were anything but ordinary... Unless magic was at play.

Indeed, those scavenger guards weren't after this small family; they were after you, the witch, although none of them knew it. In all honesty, it wasn't Thalia's fault; the blame lay squarely with you.

You had brought this calamity upon them, and now you had to make it right. It was unjust that they should suffer for your actions. Foolish of you; you should have known that wildflowers at this time of year would raise eyebrows. Yet, what gnawed at your mind was the presence of scavenger guards in that area to begin with. The royal family typically cared little for the outlying dwellings of the kingdom.

But regardless, that was immaterial now. What mattered was helping Thalia and her parents, whatever the cost. You met Thalia's gaze once more. "It’s okay Thalia. Come, we must hasten to your parents."

Together, you and Thalia set forth into the night, the weight of responsibility heavy upon your shoulders.

As you traverse the moonlit streets, Thalia explains, "It was as if they sensed something amiss," her voice quivering with anxiety. "They spoke of reporting their findings to higher authorities, and I knew then that trouble loomed."

Your heart sinks at her words. You had hoped to keep your abilities concealed, to avoid drawing unwanted attention from the authorities. Yet, here you are, thrust into a situation where secrecy is no longer an option.

As you near the outskirts of Valoris, a sense of foreboding settles over you. The air is thick with tension, and the distant sounds of commotion send a shiver down your spine. Thalia clutches your hand tightly, her eyes wide with fear. Finally, you reach the outskirts, where Thalia's family resides in a modest cottage nestled amidst the trees.

"We must tread carefully," you murmur, casting a wary glance around.

Together, you both drew closer to the source of the disturbance. The scene that greets you is one of chaos and despair. Thalia's parents stand outside their home, surrounded by a group of menacing guards clad in scavenger attire. Their expressions are grim, and you can sense the fear radiating from them.

"We are not the ones you seek, and there are no wielders of magic among us!" Jakub protests, shielding his wife with his own frame. Esmae peers cautiously from behind Jakub, her eyes darting warily over the group of scavengers.

"Then, mayhaps a demonstration would be in order to test the veracity of your claim?" a scavenger guard sneers, a sinister grin stretching across his face. He gestures to one of his comrades, who produces a gleaming metal implement, sharpened to a deadly point.

The guard brandishes the weapon, its surface glinting ominously. "This, my friends, is pure iron. For ages, we've used such tools to unearth those who would dare to consort with the dark arts," he declares, advancing menacingly towards the couple. "And if your words hold true, you'd have no objections to a simple test with the lady beside you, hmm?"

Without hesitation, you step forward, Thalia at your side. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" you demand, your voice a steady beacon amidst the swirling tempest within.

The leader of the guards fixes you with a steely gaze. "By orders of the Crown, we're here to investigate reports of illicit sorcery in this vicinity," he explains, his tone brooking no dissent.

You swallow hard, the weight of their accusation heavy upon you. Yet, you refuse to be cowed by fear. "And what evidence have you to support such allegations?" you challenge, your voice ringing with defiance.

"We've received credible witness of a sorcery skulking about these parts," he retorts. "Wildflowers blooming in the dead of winter near your dwelling—a curious coincidence, don't you think?"

You scoff at the notion. "The presence of wildflowers proves nothing. How does it incriminate any of us?"

"Are you jesting, miss?" He lets out a derisive chuckle. "Wildflowers during the inaugurate of winter—a clear sign of unnatural meddling."

You glare back, your resolve unyielding. "Your ignorance is matched only by your arrogance."

His gaze shifts to Thalia, who trembles behind you. "I remember you, child," he says, his eyes boring into hers.

You instinctively draw Thalia closer, shielding her from his invasive scrutiny. "Leave her be. She's but a child, innocent in all this."

The situation echoes with eerie familiarity, a haunting reminder of events long past. Memories of a darker time flood your mind, your fists clenching involuntarily at your sides. Yet, before the past can fully consume you, a sudden movement jolts you back to the present.

The scavenger guards seize Thalia, wrenching her from your protective embrace. Her cry of protest pierces the air, a stark reminder of the innocence threatened by their accusations. "No—!"

"This child, seen near the enchanted glade, her presence far too convenient. It lends credence to the suspicion that she and the rest of you harbor secrets—perhaps even the girl herself," the leader asserts, his grip on Thalia tightening as he brandishes the iron implement.

As Thalia struggles against his grasp, her tearful pleas tug at your heartstrings. "Mama, Papa—!"

The guards' harsh grip restrains both Jakub and Esmae, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and desperation. You too find yourself held back, unnoticed amidst the chaos unfolding before you. Anguish wells within you as Thalia's cries echo in the air, the weight of injustice bearing down upon you like a suffocating shroud.

In the face of such injustice, you refuse to remain passive. With a surge of determination, you confront the leader of the guards, your voice ringing with conviction. "Release her this instant. You have no right to subject her to such cruelty!”

The leader meets your gaze, his expression unyielding. "She is a potential threat, as are all who consort with forbidden arts. Our duty is to safeguard the realm from such dangers."

You shake your head, incredulous at his callous disregard for innocence. "You mistake innocence for guilt, blinded by your own paranoia. That girl is no sorceress, nor are any of us."

The guard's grip tightens on Thalia's arm, a grim determination etched upon his features. “We shall see.” Witnessing Thalia’s distress, a surge of emotion welled within you, a turbulent mix of fear and sorrow igniting flashes behind your eyes.

“Mother!” you wail, your eyes welling up with tears as you approach, desperate to render aid, though the gravity of the situation seems beyond your young capabilities.

With a weakening hand, she touched your cheek. “You are strong, my love. The power within you, it will guide you. Embrace it, and remember, I will always be a part of you.” Her voice wavered but held an underlying strength.

"No—!" you cry out, a surge of strength welling up within you. With a sudden burst of power, a telekinetic wave emanates from you, propelling the men restraining you, Jakub and Esmae backward, caught off guard by your unexpected display of magic.

Turning your attention to the man still clutching Thalia, you demand, "Release the girl, and perhaps I shall spare you."

Though a flicker of fear dances in his eyes, the man's pride wins out as he presses the sharp iron weapon against Thalia's delicate neck, causing you to falter momentarily. "Take another step, and this child's life is forfeit…”

Your jaw tightens as you lock gazes with him, taking in the tears glistening in Thalia's eyes. "You would spill innocent blood for what? Recognition? Power?"

"Think yourself righteous, do you?" You challenged, goading him further. His response was swift and violent, the blade biting into Thalia's flesh, drawing forth a crimson stain.

With a pained whimper, Thalia's cry pierces the air, prompting you to act swiftly. "I said, release her!" In a moment of desperation, another telekinetic force, resembling a transparent blade, hurtles toward the man, slicing through flesh and bone with a sickening squelch. Blood sprays in a gruesome arc as his head is violently wrenched from his shoulders.

The scene freezes in horror as the man's severed head tumbles to the ground, blood gushing from the stump of his neck. His lifeless body collapses in a heap, limbs twitching involuntarily. Thalia, freed from his grasp, rushes into her parents' embrace with a relieved cry, their arms wrapping around her protectively amidst the carnage.

Yet, as the realization of your actions sinks in, a sense of dread washes over you. You have taken a life—a man with ties to the royal family. Panic grips you as you comprehend the magnitude of your deed; you are now a fugitive, hunted by those in power.

A gentle hand upon your shoulder shattered the silence, drawing you from your reverie. "You must flee," Jakub's voice, steady and resolute, cut through the turmoil of your thoughts.

"J-Jakub—" Your words stumbled forth, eyes wide with uncertainty. "This is my doing, my fault."

With a reassuring touch, Jakub met your gaze. "No, child, you acted to protect us, to shield us from harm," he reassured you, though his expression betrayed a deeper concern. "Yet now, you are imperiled. Once these men awaken, they will summon the might of the royal court to hunt you down."

"Jakub speaks the truth," Esmae interjected, her voice tinged with urgency. "As a witch revealed, you are no longer safe within these walls. You must flee, and swiftly."

"But what of you?" Worry creased your brow as you considered their fate.

"Fret not for us," Esmae replied, her tone firm yet gentle. "We possess little to bind us here, and Jakub has devised a plan for just such an eventuality. It is time for you to enact your own escape, to leave Pentaraegis behind."

You nod, the urgency of the situation dawning upon you. "I have the map," you confirm, prompting Esmae to continue. "Then make haste. The dawn approaches, and time grows short."

As you prepare to depart, a pang of sorrow grips your heart, and you turn to embrace Jakub, Esmae, and Thalia. "I am grateful, and deeply sorry," you murmur.

Jakub offered a reassuring smile. "There is no need for apologies, child. It is time you prioritized your own well-being."

"How will I find you?” you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"If the fates be kind," Esmae replies with a chuckle, "our paths shall cross once more."

With a final embrace, you bid them farewell, tears glistening in your eyes as you turn and hasten back to the capital village.

Now returned to the capital village, you dash through its narrow streets with head bowed, the first light of dawn peeking over the horizon, a reminder that time is now of the essence. Navigating with practiced ease, you finally reach your modest home, your pulse racing with anticipation and anxiety.

Upon entering, the door slams shut behind you with an unintended force, startling your seven companions from their slumber. Yet, you pay it no heed, urgency propelling you to your chamber to pack essentials for your impending flight from the kingdom walls, now that the royal court will soon be in pursuit.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jin, sprawled out on the floor under a blanket before the fireplace, are the first to awaken, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion at the abrupt noise. Taehyung and Jimin, nestled on the living room couch, soon follow suit, while Jungkook and Yoongi, curled up in adjacent chairs, groggily come to attention.

"What in blazes..." Jungkook mutters, his voice thick with sleep.

Taehyung stretches with a groan and a yawn. "Goodness, what hour is it?"

"An early one, evidently," Jimin mumbles, still half-asleep as the group begins to stir.

After gathering meager provisions, you hasten to the kitchen, your mind consumed with urgency, disregarding your companions' awakening.

Jungkook's weary eyes catch your passage from room to kitchen. "Y/N, what a sight to behold, you being the first to rise."

Jin perks up. "What's this? Y/N up before us? Could it be you're preparing breakfast, dear Y/N?" He jests, still half-asleep.

Your friends' banter falls on deaf ears as you continue your frenzied movements around the kitchen. However, their curiosity is piqued when you suddenly retrieve something from beneath the couch—a worn map you had secreted away days earlier, signaling to them that something is amiss.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Jin questions, rising from his seat as you dart past him.

"And at such an ungodly hour," Yoongi grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You pay their inquiries no heed, unfurling the map upon the table with trembling hands, your focus unwavering, you mutter to yourself, searching for your intended destination. Jin and Jungkook approach, Jin seizing your shoulders.

"Y/N, talk to us," Jin implores, his grip gentle yet firm. "What's going on?"

Your gaze meets Jin's, momentarily clouded with distraction before refocusing. "I must depart the kingdom at once."

Jin's hands fell from your shoulders like startled birds taking flight, the air thick with tension as you made your startling revelation. Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung sprang up from their seats, while Yoongi's eyes snapped open, his expression a blend of disbelief and concern.

"I...I'm sorry," you stumbled over the words, the weight of their collective gaze pressing down on you. "But it's imperative."

Hoseok advanced, his voice tinged with incredulity and urgency. "This is abrupt, Y/N. Just days ago, you spoke of leaving, but now, you're insisting on immediate departure? What on earth is happening?"

Regret tugged at your conscience as you attempted to dismiss Hoseok's query, reaching to roll up the map. But before you could stow it away, a firm grip seized your wrist, arresting your movements. Jungkook's voice sliced through the air, unexpectedly grave. "No, you cannot simply brush us aside, Y/N. We are your closest confidants, and your actions are deeply concerning. Please, elucidate."

With a hesitant glance at Jungkook's earnest countenance, you relented, turning back to face your companions. "I have committed...an unspeakable act. The royal court will pursue me for it, and I cannot afford to linger."

Jin's voice was measured as he pressed for clarity. "What have you done?"

A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed hard. "I… I intervened in a skirmish involving the small family in Valoris and scavengers' guards. They were ambushed, and I had to step in."

Namjoon's voice, steady yet tinged with worry, drew closer as he took a step forward. "And how did you intervene?"

"It was a dire moment," you confessed, a shiver rippling down your spine. "A man threatened the life of the young girl, and I had no choice but to stop him... permanently."

A heavy silence hung in the air as you continued, the gravity of your admission sinking in. "I took a life... And now, I must flee."

With a determined tug and eyes brimming with unshed tears, you freed your wrist from Jungkook's grasp, packing away the map. Jimin's voice pierced the silence, his concern palpable in his tone. "But where will you go?"

A bittersweet smile played at the corners of your lips as you met Jimin's gaze. "I cannot disclose it. I fear if I do, you will follow, and I cannot bear to see you imperiled on my behalf. Please, trust me when I say it is for the best."

"Best for whom, precisely?" Jungkook's voice cut through, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"For all of you!" you exclaimed, your voice quivering with emotion. "If you accompany me, you will be endangered as well."

Jin exhaled heavily, disbelief etched on his features. "Surely there must be another solution, Y/N. We cannot fathom your departure."

Jimin's frustration bubbled over, his voice rising slightly. "Is it truly beyond comprehension that we harbor deep care for you? We have stood by your side for years, and now, you expect us to let you face this alone?"

Meeting his gaze, you feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I can't involve any of you."

"But we're already involved," Namjoon interjects, his voice calm but resolute. "We refuse to let you face it unaccompanied."

"But this is different," you argue, your voice pleading. "I can't risk your safety and positions for my sake."

"Damn it Y/N, why must you be so obstinate?" Taehyung burst forth, his frustration evident. "You incessantly speak of our standings within the royal court. Have you not comprehended a word Jimin has uttered? You are cherished amongst us, and we would go to great lengths for you. Why must you continually bring up such arguments? It vexes me beyond measure."

"Because-! Look at me, look at all of you—" Your voice wavers as you pause, sweeping your gaze across your seven companions. "It's not just your positions I'm concerned about, but your lives. I am but a common lady, and all of you... you all have futures, bright and promising, with or without me."

Hoseok's typically sunny demeanor darkens, a glint of frustration in his eyes. "Mind your words, Y/N."

You whirl toward him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Am I mistaken?! You have each other! I cannot impose upon you to forsake such opulence and happiness because of my errors. It would be unjust."

"No, what's unfair is you leaving!" Yoongi's voice slices through the tension, catching you off guard.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I'm trying to protect you!"

"You're tearing us apart!" Hoseok's voice rings out, laden with anguish.

"Consider your actions, Y/N," Taehyung advances towards you, his voice tinged with urgency.

"No— you must all think. Reason with yourselves, what do you believe the royal court will decree when they discover their most esteemed and valiant soldiers, their staunch defenders, have turned their backs on them for the sake of a mere commoner like myself—especially one guilty of such a grievous offense! Let me tell you, they shall come for you all, branding you criminals for aiding me or simply for being my friends! Thus, I am performing a service by departing and severing all ties with you!"

"I can't bear to watch you make such a reckless decision!" Taehyung’s voice cracked with emotion.

"You are being selfish, Y/N!" Jungkook's words pierce through the chaos.

"Selfish? Look at yourselves! You are blinded by your loyalty!" you retort, your voice shaking with emotion. "I am doing what is best for all of us!"

Namjoon steps forward, his expression a mixture of determination and concern. "But what about what we want? We want you safe, Y/N. We want you here with us."

"And I want the same for you!" you cried out, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. "But I can't risk your lives for mine. I will not."

"But we're not cowards, Y/N!" Jungkook's voice resonated with indignation. "We've fought battles together, faced adversity. Do you truly think we'd abandon you now?"

"You misunderstand," you whispered, anguish lacing your words. "This isn't cowardice, it's prudence. I cannot drag you into this turmoil."

"Turmoil or not, we stand with you," Jin asserts, his voice unwavering.

"But at what cost?" you whispered, tears now freely streaming down your cheeks. "I can't bear to see you suffer for my mistakes."

"Your mistakes are our mistakes," Hoseok interjects, his voice tinged with sorrow. "We share in your burdens, Y/N. That is what friendship entails."

You shook your head, their loyalty almost unbearable. "But you have futures, dreams. I can't be the anchor that weighs you down."

"Anchor or not, we refuse to let you drown," Namjoon stated firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're a part of us, Y/N. We won't abandon you."

"Yet by staying, you risk everything," you argued, desperation seeping into your voice. "Your reputations, your safety—all for a mere commoner like me."

"We're not swayed by titles or status," Hoseok declared, determination echoing in his voice. "We stand by those we love, societal constraints be damned."

Taehyung scoffed, frustration evident. "You spoke as though we're pawns in your game. But we're comrades, bound by loyalty and friendship."

"And yet, you would cast us aside like worn-out garments," Jin added, his voice tinged with hurt.

A flicker of anguish danced in your eyes as you surveyed your friends, the weight of your decision heavy upon your shoulders. "I'm not casting you aside. I'm trying to protect you."

"By abandoning us?!" Jimin's voice cracked, pleading for understanding.

"By preventing you from sharing my fate," you countered, your voice trembling with emotion.

"But we are willing to face whatever comes our way," Jin interjected.

"And what about us?" Taehyung's voice wavered, searching for solace.

"You'll continue without me," you whispered, resignation heavy in your words.

"Without our friend? Our confidante?" Yoongi's voice was disbelieving.

"You're more than a friend," Taehyung's gazes at you. "You're family."

In the midst of the turmoil, Jimin clenches his fists at his sides, anguish wrapped in his cry. "I can't lose you, Y/N!"

Frozen, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, his sob broke through your defenses. In that instant, arguments melted away, replaced by the ache of love and loss.

Without a word, Jimin rushed forward, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His tears mingled with yours, a silent testament to the depth of your bond. Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, you found solace in the arms of your dearest friend.

Silence descended, heavy with tension, as Jin stepped forward, joining the embrace. "We may not understand your reasons," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion, "but we'll stand by you, no matter what."

"And family stands together, no matter the odds," Hoseok added, his tone resolute.

"But what if standing together only leads to ruin?" you countered, your voice choked with emotion.

"Then we shall face that ruin together," Namjoon affirms.

A/N: heyy <3333, you've finally reached the end. i apologize for its unnecessary length. this part aimed to spotlight the friendship between Y/N (you, the reader) and the boys, from childhood (as in the intro) to adulthood. and wanted to included minor intimate scenes to lay the groundwork for the slow-burn trope and scenes leading up to Y/N's departure from the kingdom. i hope you enjoyed it and can follow the plot thus far. have a good night/day wherever you are! <3333

part 2 will be coming soon!!

61 notes · View notes