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littlenoona · 5 years

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You need us: The Forced Reconciliation.

You need us: The Buried Secret.

You need us: The Torturous Truth.

You need us: The Forced Reconciliation.

Summary: Your relationship with the 7 heads turn toxic.

Warnings: Character death, kidnapping, drugging, torture, blood, violence, reference to raping(no actual rape or description of it appears, someone is just being disgusting), basically this chapter is full of shit and triggers, reader beware.

Genre: Angst, minimal fluff.

Pairing: DomMafia!OT7 x Reader(F).

Word Count: 13,928.

A/N: In this chapter you will be referred to as F/N by some characters, which will stand for Fake Name - I haven’t really proof proofread it, so I’m sorry if you find mistakes.

Masterlist.

A year - 365 days - 8760 hours.

Today marked the anniversary of you leaving your old life behind, along with 7 men you used to trust with your life.

You sighed deeply as you stared out over the cliff you had been coming to ever day since that day - it was your place of serenity. You could see the entirety of the city from here, you could feel the fresh air flowing through your hair, the smell of nature filling your senses.

Considering yourself lucky that the 7 heads hadn’t found you yet, or maybe they hadn’t even tried looking, you closed your eyes and let your mind clear of today’s problems.

Moving across the country, to the very outskirts wasn’t easy - it was even harder doing so while your world laid shattered around you.

The 7 heads of the organisation had taught you how to disappear should you ever need to, in case something ever happened to them - never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you would use those abilities on vanishing from the very men that took care of you.

You felt your throat hurt as it expanded in preparation for the tears that you so desperately tried to push away day in and day out, your eyes stinging as your heart ached, never fully healing from the holes they had left behind, nor did you ever think it was going to.

Dying your hair a different colour, wearing contacts to cover your eye colour and more often than not, wearing clothes that were way too big and not your style, you didn’t even resemble yourself anymore - you felt like you had lost yourself as well.

You went by a new name, a new birth date and a new birth city, you claim that you were adopted, that you were an only child and your adoptive parents had died in a car crash when you were younger, leaving you with nothing left, it avoided people asking you any further questions about anything as they often didn’t want to invade your privacy and the whole story kind of made them uncomfortable, just as you wanted it.

Withdrawing all the money from your accounts and closing them down, you pulled your roots from the ground and relocated - an unknown guy in the underground system providing you with the necessary documents to obtain a new identity.

He wasn’t affiliated with the organisation and he assured you that he would never expose you, as he hadn’t so many times before for many other clients. You trusted him, more so because you told him that if you were ever found by unwanted people, you would come looking for him with a taste of blood on your tongue.

Hearing an engine behind you and dirt being tossed by the tires attached to it you opened your eyes to look back, only to see the car pass by without stopping - thank god.

Your eyes returned to the lights of the city, the darkness of the night falling down to ease everyone into the void of slumber, not that you had experienced much of it lately, a certain unease in your chest and stomach preventing you from fully submitting to your sleep, every twig breaking, every wind gush, every cat howl waking you in the dead of night, covered in sweat.

It was probably best that you head home, before one of the old ladies in the houses around you called the police, stating there was a stranger by the cliffs, despite having been here every day for a year, they didn’t seem to remember you - just as well, being remembered wasn’t something you wanted.

Jumping off the hood of your car, you walked around it and opened the door to get in, turning the key in the ignition, the growl of the engine awakening providing little comfort. You missed your old car, but you couldn’t risk keeping it in case the heads could track it.

Backing out of the small spot you turned your nose towards your apartment, a small and cosy place in a neighbourhood you had only heard good things about - the people living there were friendly, they always wanted to help and you always offered help to them, it was a small community that had you feel some sense of home.

The majority of your neighbours were your age, busy lives, busy families, busy jobs, though they always found time to smile, how they managed you couldn’t ever figure out, even less so since all you wanted to do every day was curl up on your bed and hope you didn’t open your eyes again.

Turning your car into your street you saw the faded lights of every apartment, people settled in for the night, watching TV, playing games, talking, some maybe even working, studying.

You turned your car off, got out and locked it behind you, walking towards your door, the air down here a little warmer compared to the cliff, as to be expected you hummed to yourself.

Pulling your keys from your pocket you unlocked the door, closing it behind you before you started twisting the multiple locks you had on the inside - pulling the Glock from the holster you had attached to your stomach, placing it on the table next to the door with a deep sigh as you flicked the light switch on the wall.

You don’t even remember when you started carrying a weapon around, you never used to before, you hadn’t even used one previously, but when you moved here you took lessons, you bought one and you even took martial arts classes, Krav Maga specifically.

Dragging your feet out of your shoes you brushed your hand through your hair as you stood in front of the mirror in your entrance, your nose smelling something familiar, but not something that was meant to be in your apartment.

Sniffing a few extra times you couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but it was out of place and it made you feel uneasy.

You picked your Glock off of the table again, treading carefully as you walked through your apartment, checking your bedroom first which was right next to the front door, peaking your head in to look around - nothing.

Standing by the door to your bedroom you could see your kitchen, nothing that you could spot there either.

Walking towards the kitchen, the living room became more and more visible, a light emitting from it that you knew you hadn’t left on when you went out this morning.

You continued to tread carefully sideways, holding your Glock at arm's length, ready to use it should you need to, the edge of the sofa coming into view as you continued your near silent steps.

Feeling your chest run cold and the pace of your heart increase, you saw a figure sitting in the centre of your sofa, their face slightly illuminated by the light on the table next to them, their dark hair draped over their face, wearing a white dress shirt with a few open buttons and black slacks - their head lifting to look at you as you came into full view.

Your entire body started shaking and you could barely keep the weapon in your hands up, your eyes widening at the face in front of you, feeling like all the air in your lungs had been ripped from you.

“Hey noona.” Jungkook spoke softly with a small smile.

Your mouth fell ajar, repeated no’s going through your head.

“I almost couldn’t recognise you.” he continued.

Desperately trying to keep the weapon in your hands steady and pointed at him, you wanted answers.

“How did you find me?” your words shook.

He stood up from the sofa with a smile knowing you wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, “I admit you did really well, noona, it was hard, but we’ve got our ways, you know that.”

“Why are you here?” you breathed, trying to gain control of yourself as the first tear fell down your cheek.

“We need to talk. I was the only one we were sure you wouldn’t shoot on sight, so here I am.” he stated, his smile disappearing from his features.

“What makes you think I won’t still shoot you?” you hesitantly spoke, your brows furrowed.

“Because my family wasn’t involved in the bloodshed of yours.” he sighed.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Please leave. Now.” you spoke harshly.

“Please just listen to me, noona.” his voice softened as he stepped closer to you.

“Get out!” you yelled, pointing your Glock at him, moving back as he came closer.

He sighed but continued to walk towards you until your back met the wall behind you, placing his hand on your weapon, taking it from your hands so easily, your body frozen in terror.

“We both know you won’t use this.” he whispered, placing the weapon on the table next to you, his gaze never leaving yours, “I’ve missed you so much..”

You averted your eyes from his black ones, “Please don’t, Jungkook.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, like it was going to burst through your rib cage - he was so close to you, the smell of his cologne finding its way to your nose, his body heat reaching your skin, his muscular build towering over you, making you feel so small, his soft yet intimidating facial features sending memories flashing through your mind of every moment you’ve tasted him, felt him, come undone in his arms.

He was tearing you apart - your eyes glazing over and stinging as the tears started falling.

“Hey..” he cooed, “Why are you crying?” his hand coming up towards your cheek, presumably to wipe the tears away.

Your mind went into overdrive, grabbing at anything and everything to remove yourself from the situation, you couldn’t handle this, your heart ached, your body was shaking, the lump in your throat expanding enough to make you feel like you couldn’t breathe.

Flickering your eyes up to meet his, you could barely make yourself audible, “Swing Set.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, his movements stopped immediately, he had never heard you use your safe word before and he had always hoped he never would.

Leaving him surprised you took the only chance you knew you would have, your hands moving quickly towards his chest, your palms hitting him, leaving him to stumble backwards at your push - grabbing the weapon on the table next to you, instantly positioning it under your chin, watching as his features turned from surprise to fear.

“If I can’t shoot you, I can shoot myself..” you choked.

“Noona.. Please..” Jungkook spoke softly, “Don't..”

“Leave.” you spoke with a stern voice, your eyes boring into his.

“Just-” he tried, but you instantly interrupted him.

“Now!” you spoke louder, your finger finding the trigger on your weapon, threatening him.

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slouching as he finally agreed, not saying another word when he walked towards your door, opening it but looking back at you one last time with clear pain in his expression before he disappeared into the darkness again, just as quickly as he had appeared.

You leaned back against the wall behind you, putting your weapon on the table, realising and trying to comprehend what had just transpired.

It felt like someone had punched you repeatedly in the chest, barely able to catch your breath, a deep suctioning feeling in your stomach, your body shaking from the adrenaline running through you - you bent over, trying to recover resting your hands on your knees, your body feeling weak.

This was bad.

‘How did they find me?’ was all that was running through your head, ‘How was it possible?’ you had changed your appearance, gotten a new name, changed your style.

Fuck.

You needed to calm down, you needed someone to be here with you, you felt unsafe.

You pulled out your phone, opening the messages to the only person you currently trusted, you were still deceiving them, they didn't know your real name or your previous life, but they were the only one you had let in, the only one you had let come close to you.

21:24 You: Hey. I know it's late, but can you come over?

21:25 Jae-ho: Sure. Is everything okay?

21:26 You: Yeah - just a visit from the past that has gotten me a little upset.

21:26 Jae-ho: I'll be there in 10.

You locked your phone and put it back in your pocket, looking at your pistol on the table, quickly grabbing it, walking towards your bedroom to put it into your bedside table.

He probably shouldn't see it.

You sat down by the dining table, waiting patiently for him to arrive, knowing he was probably speeding beyond belief as he always did.

He was a thrill, a forbidden fruit you hadn't allowed yourself to indulge. You weren't in love with him but you were extremely attracted to him, he was handsome and a "bad boy" but without the danger attached to him.

He was, a safe place where you could get the excitement you used to with the 7 heads, but without the killing and threats from other organisations.

You'd been out driving at high speeds, late nights of roaming the town like teenagers, he made you forget everything, even if it was only for a little while.

Thinking back he had wiggled himself into your life despite you trying to keep him at bay, acting cold towards him, declining his kind gestures and offers and yet he persisted.

You knew pretty much everything about him, but he knew little about you and you intended to keep it that way - it wasn't like he hadn't asked but when you showed clear discomfort about the questions he asked, he often just pulled away from them, changing the subject, reassuring you that you didn't need to tell him anything, that he just wished for you to be okay and if that meant him not knowing, then so be it.

Finding common interests you had no problem maintaining a conversation with him for hours on end, it filled you with a sense of relief and comfort, a small remedy for the gaping hole in your heart and soul.

The rapid knocking on the door bounced you back to reality, your body quickly springing into action as you stood up and practically ran to the door to greet him.

You opened the door, finding Jae-hoe's emerald green eyes, his black hair lying in separated strands around his face, wet looking, he had probably just showered and planned to go to bed when you texted him - a black oversized t-shirt draped over his large torso, a pair of ripped jeans hugging his legs tightly.

"Hey F/N." he spoke softly with his deep voice, his eyes studying your red eyes, realising you had been crying he instantly reached his arms out to you, wrapping around you and pulling you close as he stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him with his foot.

You buried your face in his chest, a small relief for your soul, but not the ache soothing hug your body were begging for - no one could ever give you that, no one except the 7 heads and you hated that.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his hand moving up to the top of your head, gently combing through your hair, "It's unlike you to let anyone see you cry, even me."

"Mhm.." you hummed into him, but you both knew you weren't okay and you were questioning yourself if you were ever going to be.

"Let's sit down and get you something to drink." he tried to sound cheerful, trying to remind you that things were going to be okay.

He stepped away from you, his hand cupping your cheek for a moment, his thumb caressing your skin before he stepped past you and into your kitchen, reaching up to grab a glass, your feet automatically following suit behind him.

As he put the glass under the flowing water it dimmed the wild sound, the only sound apart from your own still somewhat rapid breathing in your entire apartment, your eyes avoiding his figure - you didn't want him to see you like this but you also needed him here.

'Need.' you scoffed internally, 'I hate needing people.'

Jae-ho handed you the glass, the coldness of it sending spikes through your skin as you lifted it up to your lips, drinking a good amount to avoid a headache that would surely come your way if you didn't.

You put the glass down on the counter top, sighing deeply, opening your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by several knocks on the door again - your head turned to the source of the sound, your eyes pinning, a sinking feeling in your stomach setting in.

Did Jungkook come back?

You looked at Jae-ho quickly, offering a soft smile as reassurance before you walked towards the door.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Jae-ho questioned.

“No.” you confirmed, trying to sound as calm as possible.

You cursed yourself for putting your Glock in your bedside table and not the table by the door as you always did, if this was an unwanted guest, you were fucked.

Opening the door, an unfamiliar face came into view - he was bald, dressed in a suit, on the heavy side, black eyes and stubble across his chin and cheeks.

“Can I help you?” you questioned sweetly.

“Y/N?” the man spoke clearly with a deep voice.

A shock of cold was sent through your body, your eyes widening at his use of your real name. How? Shit!

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name, I’m F/N. I’ve lived here for a year.” you confirmed, your heart racing in your chest, the palms of your hands becoming damp.

He held up a picture beside your face, his eyes flickering between it and your face, “Then why do you look like her and why was Jungkook here?” he asked with an evil grin.

You withdrew yourself from the door quickly, slamming it but the man on the other side held it open with his foot, shouting something that was muddled by Jae-ho’s worried yells, several other footsteps approaching at an alarming speed.

Multiple men broke through the door, Jae-ho running towards you as you fell backwards, but one of the large men wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you back through the door, Jae-ho desperately trying to get to you when a loud sound rung through the apartment, a white flash in front of your eyes and then his movements stilled, his body going limp as blood started pouring from his forehead and he fell lifeless to the floor, his eyes losing their vibrant colour.

You screamed at the top of your lungs until no air was left, tears streaming down your cheeks, your vision blurry as you continued to fight against the man holding onto you, your arms thrashing in every direction, your legs kicking in equally frantic motions - you threw your head back, hitting the man holding you resulting in a loud cracking noise.

“Drug her, god damnit!” he yelled at another man before several came up to you, holding your limbs still as one of them pulled out a needle and pierced the skin of your upper arm.

Your body became weak, your muscles relaxing despite several attempts to use them, your head getting heavy, your eyes closing, your conscious screaming for you to stay alert, but no part of you would listen.

A hand placed on your shoulder rocking you from side to side violently awoke you from your forced slumber, your body jerking alive as you took in your surroundings with wide eyes - your ass firmly placed on a hard wooden chair, your arms behind your back, zip ties around your wrists.

A warehouse, barely anything around except stacks of boxes and wooden pallets - it looked run down, rusty, the windows high up by the ceiling broken, the doors wide and made of thin metal.

A large man came to stand in front of you, unlike the others around, he was muscular, tall, well kept, shaven, black hair slicked back with piercing black eyes, his jawline sharp, his suit a dark blue, expensive.

He eyed you up and down, turning to the lackeys that had brought you here, “Are you sure it’s her?” he questioned them all.

“Yes, sir.” one of them nodded, his nose bandaged, must’ve been the one you threw your head back into, his nose probably broken, a small smirk on your lips as you looked at him, happy that you had caused some damage, the area around his eyes clearly swollen, “Jungkook was at her apartment and she has the same features as the picture you gave us. Her hair is dyed and she was wearing contacts, but it’s definitely her.

“Very well.” the muscular man spoke, turning his attention to you, “I’m not going to give you my name, for my own safety, I’m sure you can understand, but for now you can call me Bale.”

“How about I call you fuckface instead?” you growled at him.

“Cute.” he smiled, “I wish I had a woman in my life as loyal as you, or at least as loyal as I think you are, but let’s put that to the test, shall we?”

He leaned forward, his face close to yours, his aftershave tickling your nose, a smell, nay, a stench you didn’t like, “Where are they?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” you shrugged.

“Okay.” he voiced, clearly not impressed with your lack of answers, “I’m a busy man, I’m sure you can understand that and I really don’t have time for this, either you can tell me where they are or I can leave you with these lovely men and they’ll eventually get the answers anyway.”

You should be scared, you know you should, but you weren’t, you knew you weren’t going to die in this warehouse, they wouldn’t dare kill you, you were too valuable to them alive, but pain, pain was coming your way for sure.

“Fuck you.” you smirked, collecting the saliva in your mouth you spat on his suit.

“Ah well.” he shrugged, turning on his heels to walk away, “She’s all yours boys.”

The 3 of them stood still, waiting until Bale was out of the warehouse and completely out of sight, the sound of a car leaving quickly not soon after the steel door slid shut.

“I wouldn’t mind a few hours alone with her, before we rough her up.” one of the men spoke, a smirk on his face, his hand going down to rub his member through his slacks.

A hand from another man quickly pushed against his shoulder, “We’ve got no time for that shit, maybe if you treated your wife better she’d let you fuck her some more.” he laughed.

The third man joined in, teasing the first, “Maybe it’s because he doesn’t satisfy her enough, so she doesn’t see the point in letting him roll around on her, groaning like a whale?” the two men joined in laughter, the first not particularly enjoying the topic at hand.

You took the time to study their bodies for any obvious marks, tattoos, features that you’d be able to remember, should you ever find them again, something the 7 heads had taught you to do, no matter what was happening around you, look for things, things that will help you, a way out, a feature to remember, a discarded weapon, weaknesses, anything.

The first man had a small cross on his hand between his index finger and thumb, red in colour, a mole under his right eye.

The second man had a scar going across his neck, quite visible, old, probably couldn’t heal properly and would remain the same for the rest of his life, in addition he was missing one of his canine teeth, left one

The third man was missing a pinky on his right hand and had, what looked like, a small moon tattooed on his chest, between his collarbones.

Their laughter died down, turning their attention to you, your furrowed brows softening as you realised your pain was impending - you kept talking to yourself, just keep remembering what the 7 heads had taught you, you were going to be okay, just keep focused.

You will get out of this alive.

The man with the small cross tattoo on his hand squatted down in front of you, looking up at you with a smirk on his face, “We won’t touch that pretty face of yours.” he then eyed you up and down, “The rest of you however, is free game.”

‘Don’t show them fear, don’t show them they’ve got the upper hand, even if they do.’ you heard Yoongi’s voice in your head.

“I’ve probably been fucked harder than what you’re going to do.” you sneered with a smirk.

“Oooh, you gonna take that kind of back talk from this little girl?” the man with the scar across his neck laughed.

“No, I’m not.” he growled, standing up, his hand going to the back of your neck, grabbing a lump of your hair, forcing your head back as his other hand tightened into a fist and he punched you in the stomach.

You leaned forward, all of the air in your lungs exhaled, a sharp pain throbbing inside you - you tried to take a breath to get the air back but all you could do was cough.

“Tell us where they are!” he yelled.

You didn’t respond, you didn’t let out a single sound - you could feel the anger rise in the 3 men, they wanted the 7 heads, they wanted to please their boss, they wanted blood on their hands.

‘Cunts.’ you mumbled internally, ‘Not through me.’

“There’s only more to come.” the man with the moon between his collarbones snickered, sticking his hand into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out an all black switchblade, pressing the button on the side, the blade appearing in a matter of milliseconds.

Every muscle in your body tensed as he approached you, a wicked flame in his eyes - he got off on this. His figure overshadowed you, bending down, his blade running smoothly up your thigh, closer and closer to your core, your eyes following it tensely.

He dug the very tip of it into your flesh, blood trickling slowly out from the pierced skin, “Even an indication of where they are would be good enough.” he whispered, “Be a good girl and tell me.”

Your eyes snapped from his blade to his eyes, “A good girl?”

“Yes.” he grinned, “For me.”

You smiled softly, “You haven’t earned the right to call me that.” you rushed your head forward, your forehead hitting the bridge of his nose, his large body stumbling back, the blade in your skin dragging along your thigh, leaving a large open wound, blood pouring out from it, the sting causing a loud groan to leave you.

“You stupid whore!” he growled, his leg lifting, the sole of his foot meeting your chest as he kicked you back, your chair falling backwards, your body hitting the cold pavement below with force, your eyes closing on impact, your jaw clenching at the pain.

He instantly pulled you back up by your shirt, blood running from his nose, his muscles tense with anger, his eyes piercing yours.

‘If you know they need you alive, make them think you’re insane, that they cannot break you, that you’re already broken.’ Namjoon’s voice rung in your head.

“Someone’s bleeding. Can’t handle a real woman, can you?” you laughed wickedly at him with your whole chest.

“Bitch is losing it.” the man with the cross tattoo uttered.

They spent hours beating you, cutting you, yelling at you, depriving you of water, the pool of blood below the chair growing by the minute, your clothes soaked, sweat forming on every part of your skin, pain shooting through you from every corner of your limbs.

Repeatedly asking the same questions, you stopped responding, your head hanging low as they continued to torture you - Where are they? Why can’t we find them? What are their weaknesses? Who often goes alone?

Your mind clocked out.

‘Remove yourself from the situation, go to your safe place. Imagine yourself somewhere else, somewhere you can’t be hurt, remember that place, somewhere you love.’ Jungkook’s voice whispered, ‘With people you love.’

The safe place had always been the 7 heads, you didn’t have a safe place anymore, you had to think of one on the spot, somewhere you felt happy, somewhere you had peace, space - the cliff, the view of the city, the silence, the wind flowing through your hair, playing softly with you, a place you had repeatedly gone for so long, the only place you felt something other than hurt.

One of the men grabbed the hair on the back of your head, pulling it back, forcing you to look up at him, all of them having melted into the same person now, your mind too tired to distinguish them, your eyes giving out, your body feeling weak from the loss of blood.

“Why are you still protecting them?!” he sneered.

A question you hadn’t asked yourself, a question you were scared of, a question you didn’t want to answer. Why were you protecting them? Why didn’t you give them up? Let them fight their own battles?

‘Don’t think it.’ you sobbed to yourself, ‘Don’t say it.’

Your eyes grew blurry, a faint and familiar sting in the corners, a twist of your heart as he let go of your hair and your head fell forwards again, limp like the rest of your body.

‘Conserve your energy.’ Hoseok’s smile beamed in your thoughts, ‘Don’t waste it on things that are not essential, let it accumulate to repair your body, for your escape.’

“It’s nearly morning.” one of the men sighed, “Let’s go home, recover and continue tomorrow.”

Another confirmed, “Let one of the newbies watch her for tonight.”

Your mind blackened and awoke repeatedly - between consciousness the 3 men had disappeared and a younger man had appeared, sitting by the wall not far from you, his own eyes seeming heavy, maybe even heavier than yours.

‘Be aware of your surroundings but don’t let them know that you are.’ Jin hummed to you, ‘Use it to your advantage.’

The young man wasn’t able to see your eyes, your hair acting as a shield in front of them, though you should see him through the strands, noticing how he was closing his eyes for longer and longer periods at a time.

Your eyes flickered over to the wall opposite you, a low and broken window - a possible way out, low enough for you to get out, wooden pallets in front of it, a shield from the man's view. You continued to look around, if there was no broken glass by that window, you needed a back up, something sharp to help you with the zip ties around your wrists, you needed your arms free.

Searching the warehouse with as little movement as possible, you saw no apparent glass for you to use, your heart frantically beating in your chest the more you looked.

Nothing. Shit.

You looked over at the young man, his eyes now fully shut, his breathing had slowed down, his body relaxed.

Now's your chance.

‘Assess your situation, noona!’ Taehyung growled, ‘Do you need to be quiet or do you need to be loud? Can you be fast or do you need to be slow?’

Quiet. Slow. Take it easy. Don’t rush it.

You tensed your legs, lifting yourself from the chair, careful not to move it, careful not to make a single noise, controlling your breathing as much as was humanly possible, the pain protruding from your every wound and bruise only increasing the difficulty.

Positioning the soles of your feet carefully, treading as if on glass, you could barely hear yourself sneak, the closer you got to the window, the more desperate you grew.

‘Please, please, please.’ you pleaded whatever force in the world that could possibly help you.

The wooden pallets were within reach, just a little further and you could turn the corner of them - you stopped dead in your tracks, looking back for a single second to ensure you were still undetected.

Sure enough, the young man was still sleeping.

You turned the corner of the pallets, a relief rushing through you as glass came into view - there wasn’t much room between the wall and the pallets, barely enough for you to walk over the glass and bend down to grab a piece.

The glass in the palm of your hand nearly cut through your skin as you held it tight, worried you were going to drop it, rubbing it against the plastic of your ties, the adrenaline in your veins picking up speed, the throb of your heart felt in your open wounds.

A small snap was heard as the ties finally broke, a shock sent through you because of it, worried the sound might’ve caused the man to stir and awaken you took no chances, grabbing a hold of the edge of the window, ignoring the small triangular pieces of glass still situated on it digging into your fingers as you pulled yourself up, your leg swinging up on the ledge too to support you, finally falling through it and into the open space beside the warehouse.

‘Find us.’ Jimin’s voice lulled you, ‘We will help you, protect you, no matter what.’

You barely managed to see anything around you and figure out where you were before you heard a loud voice behind you.

“Hey!” a young voice called.

No time, run!

Your gained traction the dirt, quickly obtaining speed you pointed yourself towards anything that had lights, anything that looked like part of the city, you didn’t have time to turn around and see if the other way was better, you just needed to get away from this warehouse and whoever was in it or near it.

Through grass, trees, the outskirts of the city, weaving in and out between small houses, until you finally reached a part that you recognised. You stopped for a moment, catching your breath, nothing more than pants were extracted from you, your lungs burning, your mouth prickly and dry.

Come on. Keep going. Not far.

As much as you didn’t want to, you knew you had to go where your feet hadn’t been in a year, for now, it was a place you needed to go, but the closer you got to the building, the angrier you got, the more hurt coursed through you, the more you remembered.

Jae-ho. Your family. The games. The deception. The lies!

Reaching the stairs leading to the building, the guard noticed you, the same guard that had always been there, you didn’t even glance at him, his figure clearly unsure whether he should stop you or let you through, ultimately deciding against preventing you from entering, clearly the 7 heads hadn’t revoked your permission to come into the building.

Pressing the button of the elevator like it was second nature, waiting for it to arrive, your thoughts running rampage in your head - the elevator finally coming down, letting you in as if nothing had ever changed, taking you to the top floor, your eyes stinging at the overwhelming amount of emotions you were feeling, everything crashing down on you all at once.

You came here for protection, but your intentions had changed.

Storming through the hallway, through the door and into the office, your footsteps loudly echoing through the silent space around you. Turning the corner, your eyes met those of the 6 heads, your head twisting to your right to find Jungkook’s, his figure standing tall in surprise at your dishevelled look, his mouth gaping.

Your eyes burned with rage and tears as you stepped close to him, raising your hand immediately, swinging it towards him, the skin of it meeting his cheek in a slap that rung loudly through the office - Jimin instantly moving close to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you away from Jungkook.

“They found me because of you!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, your body burning with hate, Jimin struggling to keep you under control, your every muscle fighting against him, “I was tortured because of you!”

Jungkook’s head hung low, his hand placed on the cheek you had slapped, his eyes staring at the floor.

“My friend was murdered, because of you!” you continued yelling, your heart feeling like it was going to give out at any second, your eyes peering at the rest of the heads, standing puzzled around you, “Was my family not enough for you?!”

Taehyung quickly moved to Jungkook to make sure he was okay while Namjoon moved to you, his eyes inspecting your body, the bruises, the cuts, your ruined clothing, Jimin’s arms around your torso softening slightly as you stopped fighting against him.

“What did you tell them?” Yoongi questioned.

You didn’t even look in his direction, he didn’t deserve your attention, a loud scoff leaving you at his incredibly stupid question, “Does it fucking look like I told them anything?” you growled.

“Hoseok-hyung, could you grab the first aid kit? We need to clean her wounds and she needs stitches too.” Namjoon spoke as he sat down on his knees in front of you, inspecting the multiple deep cuts on your legs.

“There’s no need, I’ll do it myself when I get to a hotel.” you spoke as you tried to get out of Jimin’s hold to leave, but he wasn’t letting go of you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but we can’t let you leave again, especially not if someone is trying to use you to get to us.” Jin stepped forward, his voice soft as if trying to soothe you into not feeling trapped in their world again.

“W-what?” you hesitated, not really believing they were actually going to keep you here against your will, turning your head to look at Jin, wanting him to confirm his words to you again.

“I’m sorry..” he spoke again, tilting his head to the side, his features turning gentle and apologetic.

“No, you can’t do this..” you scoffed, half a smile on your features, sincerely hoping he was joking, but his averting gaze spoke loud and clear to you, your body fighting against Jimin’s hold again, leaning forward, thrashing against him, “No! You can’t do this!” you yelled, Namjoon quickly moving away from you to avoid your movements.

“Let me go!” you screamed, desperately pushing your arms away from your body and against Jimin’s, hoping he wouldn’t be able to keep his grip on you, lifting your legs off the ground, thrashing them around to see if he would accidentally let go.

Nothing worked - his grip on you never loosening.

You stood still, your head hanging low, your hair covering your face as you realised you weren’t going to get out of his hold by fighting against him, you had to be smarter than that, smarter than him because he was stronger than you.

Planting your feet firmly on the ground you let out a small breath, pushing yourself to the side and towards the wall, turning so Jimin’s back hit the wall and his arms finally released you, a loud groan leaving him behind you in pain, your toes digging into the soles of your shoes as you gained traction on the floor and ran out into the hallway, your shoulder hitting the emergency stairway door with a loud thud, a pair of loud running steps behind you following you closely.

You kept your eyes facing straight ahead, focusing on the stairs below you, focusing on jumping down the stairs and not falling, shocks repeatedly sent through your feet as they met the hard pavement.

“Y/N!” Hoseok yelled behind you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, small sweat beads forming on your temples and soaking into your hair as you tried as fast as you could to get to the bottom of the building and out of their reach - the adrenaline in your body expanding your veins to allow your blood to pump faster, almost hurting you, the fear piled in your stomach creating what felt like a black hole sucking the life from you.

Turning corner after corner in the stairwell you started seeing Hoseok in the peripheral of your eye as you turned, knowing he was gaining on you, he was faster than you.

The stinging pain in your throat was increasing every second, your lungs hurting trying to keep up with the pace you were holding, the tips of your fingers tingling.

Jumping the last few steps, you nearly fell, your shoulder hitting the exit door with extreme force, face twisted in pain your eyes meeting the opening of the basement car park, your freedom, your legs never stopping their movements.

That’s when you felt it, something in your hair tugging you back lightly before an arm wrapped around your waist as well and you were stopped dead in your tracks.

“No!” you screamed, the sound echoing through the empty lot.

Hoseok’s hand let go of your hair and instead wrapped around your chest, capturing your arms, turning you around, pushing you against the wall next to the exit door.

“Let me go!” you screamed.

“I will! Just fucking listen to me!” he yelled back, his grip on you tightening.

You put your forehead against the hard surface of the wall, relaxing your body in his hold, your rapid and shallow pants filling the air along with his.

“We didn’t know, okay? We didn’t know..” he panted into the back of your neck, “We didn’t know about our fathers and your family until a year before you left.. Our fathers left us in charge of the organisation so everything they would want done after leaving, had to go through us.”

“Why should I believe you?” you spoke softly.

“Just listen!” he growled, your body flinching at his change of voice, listening as he continued, “They came in one late night, you were with Jungkook at his house, he never knew anything about this until the night we asked you to go to dinner with Won-Shik, his family was never involved in this.”

Hoseok buried his face in your neck, his voice faint and broken, “They ordered a hit on you.”

You felt your heart drop, your eyes widening at his statement, “W-what?”

“They dropped a file on Jin’s desk, watching as he opened it, saw your pictures and a short description of you, where you would be and how they wanted it done. He stood up and asked what it was about, they refused to tell us to begin with, but eventually they did.” he paused with a sigh, “They told us everything. They told us that you were the only one left and they wanted it finished so it could never come back to them.”

“You didn’t do it..” you whispered, turning your head slightly to the side, your cheek meeting the softness of his hair.

“We explained who you are, how loyal you were to us, how you had been with us for years before they even found out you were still alive, that you had helped us so many times, been an asset to the organisation.” his voice broke as he whispered, “How much we love you.”

He lifted his head, you could see his eyes were glazed over and red, “You don’t need us, Y/N. We need you.” Hoseok’s grip on you loosened, his arms slowly moving from you to hang against his own sides, letting you go.

You turned around, looking at him, your eyes flickering between his, searching for any indication that he was lying, almost begging that he was lying to you, but you couldn’t find anything - he hung his head, closing his eyes, letting his tears drop as you stepped past him and walked away.

Your heart writhed in your chest as the distance between you and Hoseok, ultimately all of the men, grew wider, your eyes stinging, your throat expanding, barely able to breathe despite reaching the road outside, the cold air of the night hitting your skin ruthlessly.

‘No time to break down, no time to cry, no time to think, not now.’ you thought to yourself as your legs picked up the pace and you found yourself walking towards the hotels around the industrial estate, there was a unit close to there where Ae-Cha kept her emergency pack, it will have all the things you need, a new identity, some money, clothes and keys to a car not far away.

There are very few hotels around the city that does not ask for your name or proof of identity, specifically because of the large crime organisations around, whether it be because they want to protect people trying to get away or because they want to protect themselves matters little to you, one of them will be your safe space tonight.

Reaching the small unit, you located the key at the back of it, under a small broken piece of the frame - quickly opening the door you begged the bag was still there and she hadn’t used it.

It was.

Quickly grabbing it, you left the door open and they key in it, not caring if anyone noticed, when she would eventually come to check up on it she would know it was gone and she would replace it.

The hotel you had chosen wasn’t far from where the unit was, it was medium sized, quite nice and, despite being a get away for a lot of criminals that just wanted a quiet life, had a lot of reviews and stars on their website, presumably from tourists that didn’t know any better.

Hidden away between restaurants the only give away that it was the place you were looking for was the large blood red flower above the entrance, with a small sign beside the door reading: 꽃 (kkoch). It gave no indication of how large the hotel actually was as it masked itself into the buildings.

You stepped through the door, the bag heavy on your shoulder as you reached the reception, an older man greeting you with a soft smile, his eyes looking like they had seen heaven and hell, his grey hair lying in small curls on the top of his head.

“1 bedroom, please, for an unknown amount of time.” you asked kindly.

His eyes gazed down your body, taking in your dishevelled clothes, the cuts and bruises on your legs - but he didn’t question it, he simply nodded as he turned and reached for a key, handing it to you.

You reached into the bag, pulling out a bundle of cash, wanting to pay for the first night up front, which was usually what you needed to do when you didn’t give your name, but the man waved his hand, stopping you.

“Please, just take care of yourself.” he spoke softly, you bowed to him and took the key before you walked through the building, towards your room for the night.

As you reached the door, you thanked whatever force had made sure there were no people in the hallways while you walked to your room - putting the key into the hole you walked through it quickly, closing it behind you, resting your back against it as you dropped the bag next to you and slid onto the floor.

Your thoughts caught up with you and you were finally in a place where you could process everything, a somewhat safe place that allowed you to think.

Though all you achieved was a heart wrenching in your chest and teary eyes - you almost wish Hoseok hadn't told you anything, it made everything feel worse.

If he was telling the truth that is, but what did he have to gain from lying to you? He had already lost you and was willing to let you go as long as you listened to him, he could've taken you back inside, protected him, you and the other heads, but he didn't.

Why?

You sobbed silently, your eyes piercing the ceiling above you, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You knew why you had protected them, you knew why you went to see them, you knew exactly why you were aching, even before all of this had happened.

You still loved them.

Despite all of it, despite what had happened, you were so utterly lost without them, Hoseok’s words only sent you further into the darkness you had entered when you left them a year ago.

Rubbing your face free of tears, you took a deep breath, ‘Get up, you bitch.’ you growled at yourself, ‘Take a shower, you stink, clean your wounds before they get infected.’

Your inside voice wasn’t always as harsh, but time hadn’t been nice to you.

Standing up, you discarded your clothes, the dried blood ripping your skin, your face wincing in pain for every bit you had to rip - dropping them in the bin by the mini fridge you walked towards the bathroom, turning on the shower, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes were swollen and puffy, your cheeks equally so, your hair bunched up and in knots, ‘A mess.’ you sighed, ‘But a living one.’

The mirror slowly started fogging up, so you turned and stepped into the shower, not pulling the curtain to cover yourself, you wanted to be able to see the door, not that you thought anyone would enter, but, for good reason, you were on edge.

Hot water ran over your broken body, removing the outer layer of today's past, but it wasn’t a day you were going to forget for a long time, no, you’d probably remember it until the day you died.

Looking at the small complementary shampoo bottle in the shower, you found a little fun in something so seemingly dull, pondering how angry people with really long hair got every time they saw these tiny things as they stepped into the shower?

You picked it up, squeezing a good amount in your hand, ruffling it through your hair, quickly washing your body before you washed it out and got out of the shower.

As much as you wanted to stay in the warm stream of water, you were much too tired - grabbing the towel hanging on the wall, drying yourself off, walking back into the room to rummage through the bag you had stolen to see what clothing was available.

A black t-shirt and a pair of black underwear, that would do you for the night - not like you had to look good for anyone, you just had to recharge.

Grabbing a small first aid kit in the bag, you bandaged your larger cuts, putting plasters on the smaller ones, you didn’t want to bleed on the nice old man’s sheets - none of them really needed stitches, or at least you just didn’t care enough to endure more pain today, despite a needle and string readily available in the kit.

You stepped towards the bed, grabbing the duvet, throwing it back, quickly plopping yourself onto the mattress of the single bed, it was a little hard, but your body did not care, not tonight.

Trying to fight the thoughts, you closed your eyes, begging for your mind to let your soul rest - no more aching, please.

The thick duvet draped around your body, kept you warm in what seemed like an all too cold room, seeming to make you feel more safe and at peace.

You couldn’t tell if it was your mind playing tricks on you or not, whether you had fallen so close to the edge of your sleep and dreams were starting to creep on you or if there was actually a clicking noise coming from the door.

Shaking your head, you woke yourself a bit, peeking your ear in the direction of your door, trying to tell if the noise continued or if you had shaken it away along with your much needed sleep.

It continued.

You sat up just as the door opened and Taehyung’s figure appeared - his eyes instantly piercing yours as you threw the duvet away from your body, quickly getting off the bed, moving to the window on the other side of the room, far away from the man that had just appeared, a man you used to run towards, not away from.

Taehyung calmly entered the room and closed the door behind him, turning his figure towards you, his features returning from piercing to the same loving ones he used to have whenever he looked at you - it hurt you to see.

"How did you find me?" you questioned, "I didn't even give a name!"

"There's few hotels in this city that allows you to do that, so it really wasn't that hard, noona. I used my ''persuasive" skills to ask at the reception."

You knew what that meant - the poor old man had a gun stuck to his head and had to choose between you and him, he probably knew who Taehyung was and knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill him and search every room for you.

Taehyung moved into the room and closer to you, your body pressing against the wall behind you, worried about what was to come.

"You've left poor Jungkookah in quite a state." he said sternly, his feature displaying clear disapproval, "You know, after you slapped him and all."

"Taehyung.." you spoke softly, trying to plead with him.

He stepped close to you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body.

"That's not going to work, beautiful, not this time." he said with a slight smirk, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, "I need you to come back with me."

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, softly shaking your head no.

"Tsk. I'm not asking. I'm telling you." he spoke with a harsher voice, "You can come with me willingly or I can take you with me."

"I'm not going to say anything to anyone, I promise. I've already proven that.." you tried to bargain.

"That's not why I'm here. I'm only here because of Jungkookah and what you did." he leaned his face in closer to you, his body overshadowing you're, you had no way of escaping him, your heart running a marathon in your chest.

"I would do anything to protect my brothers." he whispered, "That includes being less than nice to you, noona."

He was so threatening and yet, not at all, his features were kind and loving but his words spat venom against your skin.

You knew you had to get away from him, you couldn't allow him to take you back, you knew that if he did they'd keep you in a place no one could find you until they were sure the threat against them was neutralised, no matter how long that took.

"What's it gonna be?" his voice sliced through your thoughts of your impending lack of freedom.

You slapped his hand away from your cheek, trying to run past him but only managed to take a few steps before his arms swung around your waist and he pushed you forward onto the bed, trying to control you, his body lying heavily on top of yours.

"Wrong fucking move, Y/N." he growled as you felt a sharp prick in your thigh, your eyes feeling heavier and heavier until everything went dark.

Your eyes flickered open, sensitive to the bright light above you, your head throbbed like mad, your body feeling heavy - the sudden realisation of where you were setting in as you remembered Taehyung in your hotel room.

You sat up quickly and looked around, you were alone, nothing but the bed you were in, an open door to the bathroom, a TV and a desk with a laptop, though there was a bottle of water next to it with what looked like a piece of paper.

Pushing the duvet covering your body to the side, you stood up but nearly fell over as your legs shook beneath you, quickly holding onto the bed next to you for support, the blood rushing to your head certainly didn't help your aching brain.

Taking great care you walked over to the desk, following the wall with one hand on it for support, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as soon as it was within reach.

"Noona,

I'm sorry - I did what I had to do, I hope you can forgive me.

Please drink some water, it will help with the headache.

There are some painkillers behind the mirror in the bathroom.

See you soon,

Taehyungie~."

You groaned, slamming your hands down on the table - damn you, Taehyung, damn you and your protective behaviour.

Grabbing the bottle of water you opened it and drank a little, the cold water sending shivers down your throat and through your body - you took it with you as you walked into the bathroom, opening the mirror cabinet, grabbing the painkillers, the contents rattling as you angrily opened it and took 2, quickly throwing them in your mouth to down them with more water.

Fuck it - at least you knew you were safe here, even if you didn't want to be here, they still provided you with all the stuff you'd need if you were at home, you knew you weren't going anywhere any time soon so you might as well make yourself comfortable.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your ruined figure and tired eyes making you grimace at yourself.

Sighing deeply you turned around, walking back into the room, plopping yourself down on the bed, grabbing the remote, turning on the TV to find something mindless to watch.

Flickering through the channels you didn't find anything that piqued your interest, the sound of a key in the door turning your attention toward it as it opened and Jimin appeared, a large gym bag over his shoulder and a white case in his hand.

He met your curious eyes, his features not changing from their harsh look, no smile, no worry, nothing, just a blank canvas. A small white beanie on his head accompanied by a white t-shirt that sat snugly around his torso and a pair of jeans with rips down his thighs and on his knees.

You couldn’t help how attracted you were to the man as he dropped the gym bag and closed the door, walking over to you with the white case, the casual version of Jimin always took you off guard, seeing him in everyday clothes rather than a suit was always something that got to you.

He squatted down in front of you, inspecting the cuts and bruises on your legs as they hung on the edge of the bed, the blank expression on his face finally changing to what resembled anger and hurt - his hand reached out to touch your leg, the warm palm of it causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, his thumb grazing over one of your bruises.

A sigh left him before he opened the white case next to him, a full first aid kit appearing - a needle, stitching thread, antiseptic creme, bandages, large absorbent pads.

Turning his head up to face you, he asked gently, “Can I take care of your wounds, please?”

You nodded softly in return.

Removing the bandages and plasters you had put on, he dropped some alcohol onto a cloth starting with your biggest cut, running across your thigh - as soon as the cloth hit you the painful sting shot through your body, a hiss leaving you as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheet below you, your jaw clenching.

When he felt it was clean enough he opened a tube of numbing creme, dabbing it gently around the skin before he reached into the case and grabbed a needle along with some thread.

While the creme was setting in he tried to get the thread through the needle but his hands were shaking so much he had trouble doing so - you watched as he struggled until he finally let out a sigh of annoyance.

You reached out, putting your hands on his, watching as he looked up at you, you took the needle and thread from his hands, offering a small smile while trying to get the thread through the small hole yourself.

Whether it be because you were still drugged up or just not completely in the moment, you seemed a lot calmer than him, easily getting it through, tying a small knot on it and giving it back to him.

“Thank you, noona.” he whispered, both his hands returning to your thigh to stitch you up, his face close enough to your skin for you to feel his breath, “Tell me if it hurts.”

“It’s okay, Jiminah.” you hesitated, “I’ll bite through it.”

“That’s my girl.” he giggled, his eyes instantly going up to meet yours, his face turning surprised at what he had said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

You shook your head, “Don’t be sorry.”

He returned to the mission at hand, to stitch you up nicely, avoiding as much scarring as possible - clear focus on his face as he stuck the needle through your skin the first time, not hearing or seeing any discomfort he continued.

It was like you hadn’t ever left, you fell back into the same old habits so easily and comfortably, so content in his presence - you know you should be angry, you were moments ago, you know you should hate him, all of them, but it was just so damn hard, you made excuses for them but they seemed so valid to you.

Were you in a situation where you could no longer tell what was right and what was wrong? Were you so blinded by the love, the hurt, the longing for them that you simply didn’t care anymore? They were all that you had known for so long, the ones that had taken care of you for so many years, protected you, killed for you, given you everything you ever asked for, no questions.

Would you have done the same as them?

You wanted answers for so long and now that you had them, you didn’t know what to do with them. It would have been easier if they had just said that it was them, that they had organised the whole thing, that they were in on it, but they weren’t - they even went against the ones that did to protect you, their own parents.

Did you hate them? Could you hate them?

Yoongi once asked you in the late hours you where you were lying with him under the stars, having pulled a mattress outside at your request, you were half way asleep on his chest, barely paying attention to his words as his mind went into overdrive and he realised more and more how much he loved you.

’Would you take a bullet for us? Would you give your life for us?’

In their line of work it may very well come to that some day. They all know the other would lay down their life to save another - that’s how they measure love, the need and want to protect someone so much that you would give up everything that you are to ensure that they continue to be. Your survival instinct is no longer about keeping yourself alive, it is about keeping them alive.

The answer back then was a definite yes - is it still?

“I’m done, noona. How does it feel?” Jimin’s small and hesitant voice sliced through your hazed mind, blinking your eyes a few times to regain the moisture in them you looked down at your legs, fully bandaged and stitched.

“Perfect.” you giggled lightly.

“Good.” he smiled, “Do you have any other cuts or anything?”

You shook your head, no.

He raised a brow at you, his hand moving onto your stomach, a groan of pain instantly leaving you - he looked up at you, the pain lingering even though his hand had moved, small gasps leaving you as you tried to calm down, a dagger like throb settling in your middle section.

Jimin pulled out his phone, quickly dialling a number and putting it to his ear, you heard very few rings before someone answered on the other end, “Hyung, come down here, please.” his voice sounding panicked, he instantly hung up after and his attention returned to you.

“Lie down, please, noona.” he asked.

“I’m fine, Jiminah, really.” you panted, but you didn’t really sell it to him.

“Please, just lie down for me.” he requested again, his hands pushing gently on your shoulders and you obliged.

He moved his knee onto the bed next to your hip and steadied himself, hovering above you, his hand moving under your shirt, lifting it up to have a look at the damage underneath it.

“Fucking..” he growled before he stopped himself, his hand applying pressure in certain places on your stomach, your muscles tensing underneath it because of the pain.

“Jiminah!” you cried out.

“I know, noona, I know. I'm sorry, I just need to make sure everything is okay.” he said soothingly.

The door burst open and Namjoon's panicked figure came into view.

“What happened? What's wrong?” he asked quickly.

“Hyung, come look at this.” Jimin urged him.

He walked quickly over to the side of the bed, his eyes wide as he saw the bruise on your stomach almost covering your entire middle section.

“Shit..” he whispered.

“I don't think she needs to go to a hospital, but you're better at telling than I am.” Jimin spoke as he moved off the bed and away from you, letting Namjoon get closer.

Namjoon bent over you, his hand replacing Jimin's as he pressed down on several places on your stomach, just as Jimin's had, your face contorted in pain, desperately trying not to scream out in agony - his other hand moved to hold onto yours, your fingers immediately intertwining with his while your eyes were screwed shut and your jaw tight.

“Please..” you sobbed, wanting him to stop.

He sighed, his hand moving from your stomach though still holding your hand, “She'll be okay.” Jimin finally released his breath, relieved at Namjoon's verdict.

Gathering the white case, throwing out the bandages and plasters he had taken off you, he looked down at you, his hand softly touching your arm, “There's clothes in the bag that I brought. It's what you had at our houses.”

“Mmhm..” you hummed softly, “Thank you.” the throbbing pain from your bruise not subsiding as quickly as you wanted it to.

His head turned to Namjoon, “I'll see you upstairs, hyung.” Namjoon nodded in response and you heard Jimin's footsteps fade as well as the door opening and closing, Namjoon's hand not leaving yours, your eyes still closed.

He let go of your hand gently causing you to grumble in response as you opened your eyes and looked up at him. He didn’t return your gaze as he bent over, his hands softly grabbing your legs, placing them back up on the bed so you could lie on it properly, grabbing a small cover nearby to drape over your body, sitting down on the edge of the bed, staying with you, his hand finding yours again.

You turned onto your side, moving close to him, your body moulding in a curve around his as you pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, “It didn’t hurt this bad before..”

“The bruises probably took effect when you were knocked out and you didn’t really notice until we made you aware of them.” he spoke softly, soothingly, his hand moving your hair behind your ear, “Do you remember anything about the men that took you?”

“I remember everything.” you said with a blank stare into the nothingness ahead.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening the notes on it, “Can you tell me?”

“There were 3 men that were responsible for my injuries, but I also saw what I think was their boss. Bale. He referred to himself as Bale, it wasn’t his real name, he made a note of that.” you sighed and closed your eyes, “He was large, muscular, well kept unlike the others, black hair and black eyes, he didn’t have anything that would make him stand out like the others, but I would recognise him in an instant.”

“Okay.” Namjoon whispered.

“One of the three..” you choked, remembering the pain they inflicted on you, “He had a small mole under his right eye and a tattoo of a cross between his index finger and thumb, it was red.”

He continued tapping on his phone, writing everything down that you had to tell him, hoping to find these men, not only for the heads sake, but for the sake of keeping you safe and maybe a little bit of revenge.

“Another one had a scar across his neck and was missing his left canine tooth.” you spoke with a small voice.

Namjoon typed the last bits out, then his eyes turned to you, as you had stopped talking, noticing small tears collecting by the corners of your eyes, his chest clenching at what you had to say about the last one, “Hey..” he cooed, “You’re safe, it’s okay..”

You sighed as you opened your eyes, your brows furrowed with anger, “The last one was the worst one..” you gritted your teeth, “He got off on hurting me, the sick fuck. He had a small moon tattooed between his collarbones, in the indent by his throat and he was missing his right pinky.”

He squeezed your hand in anger without realising at your words, a certain burning fire in his eyes - you wiped the tears from your eyes, “That’s all of them.” you left out the young man that had been watching over you, he was probably in enough trouble, possibly even dead for letting you escape.

“Thank you, Y/N.” he sighed with a clenched jaw, “We’ll find them, don’t worry.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a certain relief at his words, “I know you will, opp-..” you stopped yourself before you let the word slip, returning to your old habits so easily, but Namjoon didn’t say anything, he let you take your time.

A low growl emitted from your stomach, both your attention as well as Namjoon’s turning to it.

“When was the last time you ate?” he questioned.

“I don’t .. I don’t remember..” you whispered, feeling the ferocity of your hunger setting in.

He saved the notes on his phone before he put his phone to his ear, looking at you with a soft smile, a few rings passing before it was picked up, “Hyung, could you bring some food down? Y/N’s hungry.”

You could hear Jin’s ecstatic voice on the other end, “What does she want? I’ll make anything, my expert cooking with satisfy her nicely!”

You couldn’t help the breathy laugh you let out at hearing him so happy, looking up at Namjoon finding his eyes questioning you.

“Fried veggies with noodles?” you beamed.

“The usual, please, hyung.” he smiled before he hung up the phone, letting Jin get on with his cooking.

Namjoon was just as casual as Jimin today, wearing a pair of jeans and a large navy coloured t-shirt, his tanned skin showing on his arms and face, as if he had been outside working for a long time.

A small knock sent a shock through your body and you immediately flinched, groaning in pain at the muscles flexing under your bruises, Namjoon’s hand instantly cupping your cheek to reassure you, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” his attention turning to the door, “Yes?”

The door opened and Yoongi’s face appeared beside it.

“Hyung, you scared her.” he sighed.

“Sorry, I thought it would’ve been better to knock than to just come in.” he spoke with a pout.

“It’s okay.. I’m just a little jumpy.” you added, relaxing your body again.

“Understandable.” Yoongi confessed, entering the room, closing the door behind him, coming over to sit on the chair by the desk.

Namjoon got up from the bed, his hand still in yours, looking down at you, “I’ve got to get this information up to Hoseok-hyung to see if we can find them.” he squeezed your hand one last time before he let go, offering a small bow to Yoongi as he walked out the door.

You sighed, burying your face in the pillow below you, wishing your body would stop aching.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi spoke with a quiet voice.

Turning your head, you looked at him, his hoodie draped over his torso, he was almost swimming in it, his black jeans tight around his legs, his expression fiery and solemn.

“What for?” you questioned.

“This. This happening to you.” his fists clenched as he leaned forward and let out a small huff, “Jiminah told me how bad it is.”

Yoongi had a hard time hiding his anger when it came to you, he wanted to protect you at all costs and when he failed, he wasn’t kind to himself about it.

“Don’t be sorry. I knew the risks when I got involved. I knew what could happen, you trained me for it.” you hummed, keeping your eyes fixated on him.

“I know, but I had always hoped it wouldn’t.” he tensed, “But you did well, really well.”

“I had good teachers.” you smirked.

He couldn’t help but smile at your comment - standing up and coming closer to the bed, sitting down on the floor next to it, just tall enough to still see your face.

“I’ll make sure they regret it.” he growled, “I’ll make sure their families regret it.”

There it was - the click - the thing you had been searching for.

What their fathers did to you, to your family, it was all business, they didn’t see you as humans, they saw you as a liability, as work. They didn’t think about what it would do to any survivors or friends, they didn’t think that far - what you had seen the heads do for years, their work, even things you had been apart of, what happened when you were younger was exactly the same as this.

You were no better.

“No, leave the families, please.” you spoke quickly with a panicked voice, Yoongi’s head turning to look at you with a questioning brow, “Please.” you begged.

“Okay.” he nodded softly, “Just them.”

“Thank you.” you whispered, your eyes darting from one end of the room to the other as your brain worked through what you had just realised.

Did you really go this many years without even giving it a second thought? Could you have even changed anything? You had become so accustomed to the thought of the things that they did on a daily basis, so desensitised to it that you never thought what they did, was what happened to you.

You could feel your heart race in your chest.

Yoongi’s hand took yours, his thumb softly caressing it, “Are you okay? What’s on your mind? You look bothered.”

Smiling softly you tried to avoid letting him in, not yet, not this, “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired, hungry and in pain.”

“Jin-hyung should be down soon with your food.” he smiled, “Do you want me to go get you some more painkillers?”

You shook your head no, “Not until I’ve eaten a little, makes them work better I feel.”

He simply nodded at your answer, sitting in silence with you, enjoying the fact that you were actually here, with him, even under these circumstances.

You always enjoyed Yoongi’s company, that much hadn’t changed, to be honest, you don’t know if anything had changed, Hoseok’s words from before echoed through your head, the anger and hatred you felt a year ago had subsided progressively and you weren’t sure where you were even going to go from here or when you were going to find out.

One day at a time, for now.

The handle of the door wobbled and then stopped, then wobbled again and stopped, Jin’s growling on the other side causing a small laugh to extract from your lungs, Yoongi getting up from his spot next to you to open the door and let him in.

Jin came into view with a large tray of food and several drinks, his blinding smile and clear pride at his work showing - your nose flaring at the aroma of the food flowing towards you, your stomach growling again.

He walked over to you and you sat up with a pained groan, his features falting for a moment because of his worry as he put the tray down in front of you, your eyes feasting on the meal he had prepared for you.

Yoongi disappeared into the bathroom to get the painkillers you had requested, coming back out quickly to put them on the tray for you, giving you and Jin a small smile as he decided to leave you alone with Jin for a little, walking through the door without another word.

Jin pulled the chair from the desk over to you and sat down, awaiting your verdict of his food with excitement.

“I really hope you like it, Jagi-..” he stopped mid word, “Y/N.” he corrected himself.

“I’m sure I will.” you smiled, “I always do!”

You picked up the chopsticks, digging them into the food, lifting them to your lips and embracing the food between them, a small moan like sound leaving you as you closed your eyes and chewed through the substance.

“Good?” he smiled.

“Better than ever.” you chuckled, “I’ve missed your cooking.”

He showed a tiny bit of shyness at your words, letting out a small laugh, the signature sound warming your chest. You continued to stuff your face with his delicious mixture of foods, the hungry pain in your stomach finally going away.

Pulling out his phone he started tapping away at it, wanting to stay in your company, but letting you enjoy the food he had made - his pink sweater was just as baggy as it always was, his grey jeans sitting tight in some places around his legs, his hair a little messy, but still placed in a way that made him look good.

Damn all of them, always looking so good, even when they didn’t try.

It didn’t take you long to finish your food as you basically wolfed it down, grabbing the painkillers Yoongi had left for you and throwing them into your mouth, downing them with a big gulp of water, feeling like your stomach was almost going to burst at how full you were.

Jin’s eyes turned to you as he heard your movements stop, “Feel good?”

You smiled widely with closed eyes, a content hum leaving you as you thought you were close to a food coma.

“I’ve got something for you.” he cleared his throat and you opened your eyes to look at him.

His hand went into his pocket and he pulled out a very familiar item, your phone.

“I found it not long after you..” he stopped himself, his eyes dropping from yours to the phone, “It still works.” he continued as he handed it to you.

You took the device, powering it on, unlocking it and feeling its all too familiar heaviness in your hand. You immediately went to the gallery, wanting to see all the pictures you had on it, not that you had forgotten, but you wanted to feel the sensation of seeing them again, the happiness.

The first image was the last one you had taken, an image of yourself lying in bed with your thumb and index finger in the form of a heart, one that you sent to Hoseok.

A smile grew on your face.

Jin got up from the chair, moving the tray over to the desk before he sat down next to you on the bed - seeing what you were seeing on the screen.

“Cute.” he smiled.

You hummed in response, flickering through more images, Jin’s shoulder leaning against yours as you both remembered and laughed at the pictures you saw.

Coming across an image of yourself along with the 7 heads at a beach, you remembered fondly the day, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook splashing each other in the water, Yoongi lying in the shade, Namjoon looking for crabs, Hoseok next to you and Jin on the other side, laughing with you.

A normal day, with normal men - not killers, not powerful leaders of an organisation.

You felt a sense of tiredness wash over you, a yawn creeping onto you, the food having fulfilled you.

“Tired?” Jin questioned softly.

“Yeah..” you hummed, “Still recovering.”

Jin moved off the bed, “Maybe you should sleep a little.” he smiled, his finger going under your chin in a loving manner.

“Okay.” you smiled.

“I’ll see you soon.” he whispered as he turned around and left, closing the door softly behind him.

You laid down on the bed, hugging the cover tightly under your chin, turning the TV on for some background noise, your eyes dry and heavy, quickly allowing you to fall into the abyss of sleep.

You didn’t know how long you had been asleep, but you heard the door opening slowly and gently, Jungkook's face coming into view around the corner of it, looking at you with worried and soft eyes.

You were pale, your eyes tired, your body weak. Looking up at him you met his eyes, he looked so small and hesitant, not knowing if he should approach you or stay put.

Standing up from the bed you walked slowly towards him but he took a few steps back, as if he was scared of you, of all people, this large and muscular man that had killed people, beaten people, probably even more brutal things than you could even imagine, it didn't stop you though, you continued to walk towards him until you reached him, your arms instantly wrapping around him in a tight hug that he instantly returned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms around your waist squeezing you closer to him.

"I'm so sorry, noona, I didn't mean for you to get hurt, please, I'm so sorry!" he whispered with a shaky breath.

"Hey.. It's okay." you cooed.

His body shook in your hold, tears falling from his eyes as he slowly sunk down on his knees in front of you, your heart aching at his actions, seeing him like this was sending a wave of ice through your chest, your own eyes welling up.

Jungkook sobbed into the softness your stomach, "Please don't leave me again, noona, please."

Your hand ran gently through his soft hair, he had nothing to do with it, any of it, he didn't do anything wrong, an innocent party in this horror story, just like you.

Should you stay?

Even if it's only for him?

Please do not repost. If you wish to repost, please contact me directly requesting permission, with details of where, and on what account(name). I will put the details of approved reposts below.

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imaginejamesandsirius · 5 years

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Hiya! I'm not sure if I'm doing this write but here's a prompt I was going to write but got too lazy: Sirius going into Slytherin, either because he can't talk the sorting hat out of it or he owes it to Regulus or something and then James goes into Slytherin too because of Sirius. It can be as long or short as you want, really you don't have too. Thank you so much! I love Imagine James And Sirius

((Note: Black-typical child abuse references))

The younger Potters’ house, a small stone built cottage, comfortable for three, or five at most, sitting snugly in Aberdeenshire countryside not so far from the Potter Manse, is filled to bursting with guests, all there to celebrate Harry’s thirteenth birthday. Most of them are packed into the living room, perched on the arms of chairs and sitting in small heaps on the floor, and many are laughing at a story Fred and George Weasley have just finished telling about their misadventures with a ghoul. It’s a new story for Harry, and he laughs until he ribs hurt.

His dads are both smiling at him fondly, James from in front of the fireplace, a glass of firewhisky in his hand and looking strikingly like Fleamont with the flames throwing shadows over his dark brown skin, and Sirius from the floor at his feet, head thrown back to look up at him, his grey eyes full of mirth. Harry likes seeing them like this, happy and without restraint, but it doesn’t stop the groan leaving his mouth when Hermione sees the affectionate glances they share and decides to ask;

“How did you meet, Mr. Potter?”

Neither seem sure who she’s asking, but that has never stopped either of them. It’s a tale Harry has heard so many times before, and James always starts it the way he does now.

“Well, Hermione, you see, everyone always thinks we met on the Hogwarts Express, like yourself and Ron and Harry, or at the moments after our Sortings, but it was not some meeting of eyes across a train carriage or a crowed Great Hall, and knowing we’d found our forever best friends. We met before that. My parents liked to take me to parties they thought would be beneficial to me, so I would know some my classmates, and it was at Regulus’s-”

Here he pauses to wink at his brother in law, like Hermione might not recognise him, despite the uncanny similarity he has to Sirius. Regulus rolls his eyes, having heard this even more times than Harry, and goes back to drinking his wine.

“Seventh birthday party, I think, eighth maybe, that I met Sirius. And yes, I did know I’d marry him someday.”

“But Mr. Potter-”

“Call him James, Hermione, otherwise it gets confusing.”

“Yes Mr. Potter – I mean Sirius. But weren’t you only nine or ten?”

“Absolutely,” James says with a grin, and continues his story.

He did not know the quiet boy with the mischievous glint in his pretty grey eyes would one day be his husband, but looking back, James could say he wanted it, even then.

The night was cold and dark, the stars twinkling high in the sky like crystals thrown wide, stuck there eternally. James looked at them and pulled his heavy woollen cloak closer as he and his parents made their way up to the imposing door to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had no idea why Euphemia and Fleamont were making him go, why they were even going themselves; he’d heard them complain on more than one occasion that the Blacks were awful blood purists and racists to boot. Yet they’d insisted there would be many children here tonight that would be in James’s year at school, children he should get to know sooner rather than later, and so here they were, despite James’s protests.

The front door swung open just as Fleamont’s knuckles made to knock, the woman behind it wearing a fake smile nearly as obvious as her deep red lipstick. By her side was a small boy, dark and sullen looking, half hiding behind his long black hair and half behind his mother. James smiled at him, his lumos smile Euphemia called it, bright enough to lift a whole room. The boy shot him a dirty look, full of sneering disgust, and James could only hope this was the birthday boy and not the brother he’d may or may not be sharing a dormitory with in the near future.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. And this must be little James!” Mrs. Black welcomed them, her tone as false and bright as her smile. James’s parents smiled back, equally fake and James found himself wondering yet again why they’d come here.

Once inside, an old house elf, twisted and gnarled like an ancient tree, look their cloaks and immediately vanished with them, muttering something about foreign blood under his breath. Affronted, James looked to his parents, but they were still exchanging pleasantries with the Blacks and hadn’t noticed the rude little elf. As long as the older brother wasn’t as sullen as the younger – Regulus, he remembered suddenly – nor as subversive as the elf.

As his parents talked and talked, and Regulus hid further and further into his mother’s skirts, James took the time to look around the house. It wasn’t anything like the Manse, not with its enormous stair ways and wide halls, but looking up the staircase, James guessed it might be of a similar size overall, he couldn’t even see where the stairs ended, up and up, round and round. His eyes followed the banister, trying to find the end, and instead, near what James could only assume had to be the very top of the stairs, he found a face looking down at him, nearly identical to the ones in front of him, except for in place of derision, there was an emotion James knew far better; mischief.

The shark’s grin on his sharp, surprisingly pretty, face was unmistakable even from such distance as he lifted what looked like some kind of ball, heavy and wobbly like jelly over the banister. He caught sight of James, pointed towards the ball, and winked. He knew where this was going and flattened himself against the wall by the stairs, hitting his head on some knife edged plaque, displaying what he thought might be a house elf’s head. The boy on the stairs, who could only be Sirius, dropped the ball silently and hid down behind the banister as it fell, almost in slow motion, towards the dark green carpet.

Walburga Black let out a scream of rage like no other James had ever heard as the ball exploded upon impact with the ground, releasing a wave of foul smelling green slime that splattered Mrs. Black, the whole hallway, and many of her guests, drowning out the sound of his laughter. Any humour he might have felt, and he’d felt rather a lot of it, vanished with the sound, and the look of fury that twisted Walburga’s face, dark grey eyes immediately going to exactly where Sirius had been standing. Most of the guests were making horrified noises themselves, trying to wipe slime from their robes and hair and glasses; they all stopped at the sound of Mrs. Black screaming her elder son’s name.

“Walburga,” Mr. Black hissed, “Do not cause a scene.” He went back to making placating noises at his guests, saying how sorry he was, how much of accident it must have been, but all eyes were on Mrs. Black now as she positively flew up the stairs.

James had expected to dislike the Blacks, even to hate them, but he hadn’t expected the fear that gripped him as it did then the closer Walburga got to her elder son. He had never even spoken to the other boy, yet somehow he felt the need to protect him from his mother’s rage, a need he would find would never go away.

“Mum,” he said, almost a whisper, certainly desperate. Euphemia looked at him, covered from head to toe in dark green as she was, and there was irritation in her face, but also understanding. She shook her head.

The party ended not long after that, though Cygnus managed to clean everyone and everything with just a command to his house elf, supremely apologetic and offering everyone, including James a large glass of champagne to wash off the memory. The Potters might even have stayed had Walburga not come down the stairs moments later, looking completely unruffled bar the small stain of blood on her left sleeve.

James thought of Sirius often after that, though it was a long time before he saw him again. He thought of the mischievous grin, the pretty face, the almond shaped eyes now he couldn’t remember the colour of; were they brown, blue? Hazel, likes James? He couldn’t remember much, except that he wanted to see him again.

The McKinnon’s Christmas parties were legendary, or so Fleamont decided when he announced they would be attending the affair one afternoon in the early winter before James turned eleven. He’d been to plenty pureblood parties since the one for Regulus’s birthday and now, and yet he’d never once seen Sirius again, much to his disappointment. He’d heard his name plenty times though, in the whisperings of other children and parents. The party had left the Blacks veritable pariahs, what with the mess they’d made, and the overreaction of Walburga, but the wedding of Bellatrix Black and Rodolpus Lestrange had managed to lessen the effects somewhat, and James was finally getting his chance to see Sirius again. Euphemia and Fleamont both seemed a little perplexed by their son’s reaction to getting to see a boy he had never technically met, yet they said nothing.

The ballroom at the McKinnon’s town house was decorated all in gold and green, matching the dress Mrs. McKinnon wore when she led them into the room. There was so much to look at from the enormous tree with tiny green fairies fluttering about it to the small gaggle of children at the top end of the room, most familiar now from all the parties. Marlene was there looking pretty as ever in a glittery gold dress that matched her hair, but James’s eyes skittered over her and the other children there.

Grey. Sirius’s eyes were grey, James realised when his gaze landed on the other boy. He didn’t even realise he was walking towards him, grin on his face, until he was before the other boy, holding out his hand.

“I’m James Potter.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, amusement clear in his eyes, but took James hand anyway and shook it once. “Sirius Black.”

“I know. I saw you at your brother’s party.”

Sirius grinned at the mention of the party. “That was good wasn’t it. I remember your face.”

“Your dad gave me champagne,” James told him.

Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly but his grin stayed in place. “He does that. Wanna see if we can make the tree fairies start screaming?”

The boy Sirius had been talking to balked at that, his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish stuck in a too-small bowl. “I-I-Well I don’t think you should-”

“Maybe if we spin them?” James asked, and led the way over to the tree, glancing over his shoulder to check Sirius was following.

They did manage to get the fairies to scream, and to turn all the green baubles red, and to make the tinsel slither around the guests throats like snakes. After the look of rage on Walburga’s face when a tinsel snake wrapped a touch too tight around her neck, the two boys ran as fast as their gangly legs would carry them out the ballroom, down a spiral set of stairs and out into the garden, cold biting at James’s cheeks as soon as he set foot outside. For a moment they stood still and silent in the dark garden until a burst of laughter bubbled from Sirius’s lips.

His laugh was deep and throaty, and James decided then it was the best sound he would ever hear. He couldn’t help they way he joined in until they were both gasping for breath, gripping onto each other’s shoulders.

“Did you see mum’s face?” Sirius asked between bursts of laughter. “She’s gonna be so angry.”

“Not as angry as the fairies!”

“Or indeed the McKinnons.” The sound of his father’s voice didn’t stop James’s laughter, yet suddenly Sirius was standing straight, no humour in his face, only defiance.

“Who’re you?” Sirius snapped, glaring at Fleamont.

“That’s my dad,” James said when he’d collected himself enough.

“Indeed.” Fleamont’s eyes met Sirius’s for a moment, as if Sirius was sizing him up. Fleamont didn’t even look properly angry, just annoyed.

“James, we’re leaving.” He waved off James’s protests and ushered his son out the door, abandoning Sirius in the garden.

Just as they were getting ready to apparate home from the front of the house, Sirius appeared and grabbed James’s sleeve.

“Mum won’t let me go to any more parties now. You’ll be at Hogwarts with me though, I’ll see you there?”

The boy looked worried almost as he examined James’s face. Merlin’s beard, he really was so pretty.

“Of course, Sirius,” James said. “We’re friends.”

From that night, James and Sirius began to write to each other, and though they didn’t see each other again until they met on the Hogwarts Express, they quickly became close friends. They planned pranks and wrote of the Quidditch stars they’d be, of how they’d rule the world.

When it came to their Sorting, there was no doubting they’d be in the same house. Sirius would go first, being a Black, and James would follow him anywhere, same as Sirius would have.

The house shouted, “Slytherin,” nearly as soon as it touched Sirius’s head, and James had no fear when he sat on the stool.

“Want to be in Slytherin, ey?” the hat said in his ear. “All for that boy? Gryffindor would suit you better.”

“I want to be with Sirius.” James thought.

The hat laughed, all unsettling but shouted “Slytherin!” all the same.

Sirius grinned and hugged him tight when he slipped into the seat beside him.

“Told you we’d be together,” James told him. He’d known since they’d first met, of course.

James grins as finishes his story, stopping only briefly to press a kiss to Sirius’s lips. Harry rolls his eyes at their affecting.

“So you should’ve been in Gryffindor then, Mr. Potter?” Hermione asks. Harry has never thought about that before, about how his dad could’ve been in his house. Or maybe if he had been, Harry wouldn’t exist at all.

“Never,” his dad says. “I was meant to be where Sirius was.”

#fanfic #prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #filled #established relationship #married #no voldemort au #slytherin james #slytherin sirius #raising harry #post hogwarts #andromedablacc #Anonymous

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