#namjoon mafia

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 21: It's now or never

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader

🗡️ word count: 19.4k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️warnings: anxiety spiraling; Yoongi's scar; baby Jimin is still in a coma; explicit smut (oral, vaginal, and anal sex; face riding; squirting; spitroasting; getting messy with cum; all holes tended to; ass eating and mutual fingering; some very interesting positions that i don't know how to name; subby Yoongi; mc being a bit more dominant; Namjoon is Namjoon; subspace; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; semi-public sex); graphically violent dreams; mc has a lot a lot a lot a lot of feelings.

🗡️note: we're speedrunning the healing time of a headwound okay medical professionals. ignore how fast Yoongi heals. anyway, big should out to @sweetestofchaos for the existence of Dionysus, the club in this fic. more details in the end notes so please check those out!!! also lmaooo this chapter made me and my beta reader cry so good luck!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on sept. 2023 | read on ao3

The flight to Hong Kong is a little over three and a half hours, but you are so antsy the entire time that it feels like it takes all fucking day. Namjoon attempts to distract you with episodes of an anime that involves demon hunting, you think, but you are unable to focus on the plot.

He even attempts to distract you with his hands and lips, leaving warm kisses along the expanse of your neck while his hands push up the skirt of your floral sundress, charting familiar paths they took only a few hours earlier and so many times before—many times which had ended with your thighs wrapped around his neck, begging for reprieve from overwhelming pleasure. 

But you are unable to stop your mind from running in circles. You cannot relax.

All you can think about is Yoongi and his wound. Yoongi and his distance. Yoongi and whatever the fuck he is doing in Hong Kong. Yoongi meeting with members of the Busan family—meeting with his ex. 

This morning, lying in Yoongi's bed, it was much easier to relax and let go of your worries. But now, in the air, on your way to see him, you cannot quiet your mind for the life of you. 

Mere hours, laying in Yoongi's large bed with an afterglow from Namjoon's talented mouth and hands, the two of you had a nice talk about his fears and worries, putting a lot into perspective and assuaging all the feelings of bitterness and frustration that you felt over the last several days. You truly do not blame him for needing to have some time and space to himself—he and Yoongi have a bond so deep, it is no wonder that Namjoon's thoughts become insurmountable. 

Namjoon admitted that he had actually not been able to get ahold of Yoongi and that you were going to surprise him with a visit tomorrow, having already spoken to Uiseok about dropping in. Everything he said about Yoongi regretting creating distance and all that was just him babbling because he was high and stressed out—something you relate to after the night you and Jeongguk shared. He was desperate to keep you from worrying as much as he was.

But then Yoongi finally responded to Namjoon's texts and it changed the trajectory of everything, spurring you two to get onto a plane as quickly as possible. What was originally meant to be a trip to bring him home tomorrow became a mad dash to pack a suitcase and get onto a flight as soon as you could. The piggyback ride from Jeongguk's place was only about nine hours earlier, yet it feels like so much time has passed. 

And if all of this is not enough, you spiral thinking about the whirlwind of returning to Namjoon's arms after the tumultuous night spent with Jeongguk, barely able to fathom the fact that you are closing in on Hong Kong and that in the next hour or so you will be back in Yoongi's arms. It takes all the effort you have to not think back to Jeongguk asking those fateful words. Do you think you could fall for someone like me?

All that matters to you is that you, Yoongi, and Namjoon will soon be back together at last. It feels like each time you make progress in your relationship and something good happens that pulls you closer, something terrible happens that rips you apart. You are certain that you cannot possibly handle another thing ripping the three of you apart. Not after all you have been through. 

When the plane finally begins to descend, your heart goes haywire. All you want is to wrap your arms around Yoongi and bring him home. There has been too much distance between the two of you lately, and you are beginning to feel sick with worry. Instead you hug your purse tight to your chest, feeling cool black leather against your palms.

You operate on autopilot as the cabin door opens and Namjoon ushers you out into the cool evening. Once more, you are landing in Hong Kong in the later hours of the day, and once more you have no intent on enjoying your stay, despite how much a small part of you wishes that you could. 

Uiseok and the rest of The Tigers have done absolutely nothing wrong, as far as you know, yet they are the last people you want to sit and schmooze with. Your nerves are too on edge and fragile, and you are not sure you have the patience for any amount of socializing at the moment. 

You practically insist on the pilot keeping the engine running, and you are thankful that the two of you have packed nothing more than a suitcase each with the bare minimum items that you need in order to enjoy a brief stay away from home. A member of the family's staff rolls the suitcases behind you, and you have half a mind to tell him to just leave them on the plane.

"Worst case scenario, we should be able to sleep in Taehyung's suite," Namjoon says as you stomp toward the familiar red and white car, hoping to find Yoongi inside—hoping to drag him out by the lapels and usher him straight onto the private jet. 

You hum in response and round the back of the car, bending low to peer inside, feeling your anger rise when you realize it is only Sohee who waits for you and no other passengers. A low, impatient grumble works from your chest through your lips and you sigh, then reach for the door handle and yank. 

"Welcome back," Sohee sing-songs with a sweet smile, body rotated to face you as best as she can.

Although it feels unconvincing, you smile back, doing your best to appear as friendly as possible given the current circumstances. It is not her fault that you are so pissed off, and you do not wish to take your anger out on her. 

Namjoon surprises you by approaching the front passenger seat and sliding in, and you huff out a sigh as you reach for your seatbelt and fight the urge to insist Sohee drives now before you lose your fucking mind. 

"I would have brought the lover boy but Uiseok mentioned it was meant to be a surprise," Sohee explains as she drives off, away from the jet. "I have a feeling the surprise has already been ruined, however; he was getting into the shower shortly before I left and muttering about getting presentable."

What kind of state is Yoongi in, you wonder. Has he been drinking and doing drugs? Has he been busy with new ideas for keeping the family safe? Is his hair still the same? Has he let himself go? More than a week has passed but it feels like it has been months.

Although you have only been here once, the scenery looks familiar. Green makes up the bulk of the neon lights, with bright bursts of red, yellow, and blue, and you allow your gaze to linger on details just long enough to capture them but not long enough to try to decipher anything. You even space out long enough that when Sohee pulls past a familiar restaurant front, you feel a burst of anxiety and begin to somewhat mindlessly pick at the hem of your soft light blue sweater sleeve. 

Without a word, the three of you exit the car as soon as she pulls up across the street from the pseudo restaurant. If you had a key to the place, you would be sprinting ahead, but instead you linger back and stumble forward at times, unsure what pace your body wants to keep; unsure whether you can handle being here at all. 

Namjoon's hand finds your lower back and the warmth is nice, but everything else about this trip feels ominous and off. There is something in the air that you cannot sort out the weight of, and it makes you want to squeeze your eyes closed and curl into a ball. 

Only when the door to the fake restaurant is opened and you enter the fluorescently lit space, do you realize Namjoon and Sohee are carrying on conversation. But what they are talking about flies right past you. 

That is, until Namjoon says, "Nah, I haven't spoken to her in years."

"Hmm?" you mutter as Namjoon's warm palm guides you to the right, through the kitchen and toward the walk-in cooler. 

"She was much more soft-spoken than I expected," Sohee says, and you turn your attention to your left, to Namjoon, waiting for what he has to say next, in search of context clues because you do not want to admit that you have not been paying attention. You step into the cooler and blink as your eyes adjust to the much darker room.

Namjoon cracks a smile but his eyes are glazed over and distant as he stares ahead. "Her being soft-spoken is a mask, but so is any show of confidence. Truth be told, I don't think her father ever allowed her to learn how to express herself genuinely." He turns to you with a wink and adds, "Which is probably why Yoongi was so drawn to me while they were together," and you realize they are discussing Ryujin. 

"Was she here?" you ask as the three of you exit the cooler and you are forced to go in front of Namjoon while entering the narrow hallway. 

Sohee hums an affirmative with a shrug and halfway glances over her shoulder at you without looking past her curtain of dark hair to say, "But don't worry, Yoongi didn't seem too thrilled to see her."

The implication that you may be jealous makes you somewhat mad but you are in no mood to voice it. Sohee is not exactly someone you are eager to be on friendly or unfriendly terms with, and saying anything one way or another might sway you out of your current stance of perfect neutrality. You would rather keep your mouth shut and accomplish the task that you came here to see through without any conflict. 

You do hum, however. A burst of sound that is vaguely a drawn out consonant. Namjoon's hand rubs a small circle, and you keep your eyes on the furnishings that come into view when you enter the large chaotic maroon and gold space at the end of the hallway, doing your best to avoid looking at Sohee and anyone else who may be in the room. You can already sense that Yoongi is not present because neither Yoongi or Namjoon would be able to keep his presence a secret. 

"Like I said," Sohee yawns, tilting her head toward a hallway to the left, "in the shower."

As soon as the words leave her lips, you can hear the unmistakable sound of running water coming from a room down the hallway, and you toe out of your black sneakers and begin to make your way toward it. 

"Guest room is the third door on the right," Sohee informs and you nod while making your way to that very doorway without hesitation. You can sense without looking that Namjoon is following close behind. 

With heavy footfalls and a light sway to your step, you feel drunk—senses heightened yet somehow dull; details bright and twisted as if through a kaleidoscope. How many more times are you going to have to feel this dreaded anticipation laced with hope? This cannot be the lifestyle that you grow accustomed to and yet, you cannot stop your body from moving forward. 

The door is closed and you do not bother to knock before reaching for the small brass knob and pushing your way through. A terrible, dark part of you expects to find some sign of Yoongi's ex lingering in the room as if she has been the one to keep him company in your absence. But all you find is a small bed with the sheet pulled down on one side, one pillow that is indented and one that looks perfectly untouched, and a metal rack on which several black suits hang. 

A suitcase is sprawled open beneath a window that lets in the glow of streetlights and light reflected from the nearly full moon, and there are shirts, joggers, ties, and a square black bottle of cologne sitting on top. No sign of Ryujin, because why would there be?

The water shuts off in the bathroom, and rather than join Namjoon, who takes a seat at the foot of the bed, you yank the bathroom door open and call, "Yoongi!"

"Darling?" Yoongi responds through the fog and your legs turn soft, threatening to topple you over. 

Somehow your limbs manage to carry you forward, and you step into the yellow tiled room and come face to face with the man you love, gaze gravitating straight to his wound. Yoongi keeps the injured eye closed and you can see the stitches that run over his lid and brow and down to the apple of his cheek, along a reddened gash. Nausea rises, and you stumble to the right, hand gripping to the edge of the sink. 

"Fuck," you mutter before you can stop yourself, but Yoongi's smile does not falter.

He stands before you dripping wet and nude, and if you were not so overcome with the urge to vomit and run far, far away, your hands would be reaching to explore. How could you have done this to him? How can he smile at you as if it is nothing?

"Just a scratch," Yoongi says as he steps close, failing to assuage your anxiety. It almost angers you how nonchalant he is about it. 

"No," is all you can bring yourself to say, voice shaken and deep.

"Darling, please," Yoongi tries, stepping close with a pastel pink towel dangling from his fingertips that he makes no move to use on his wet skin. "You didn't come all this way to be too afraid to look at me, did you?"

Consonants and vowels attempt to pass through your lips as you shake your head, eyes and mouth worried and wide. "N-not— I'm—"

"Hey handsome," Namjoon says from behind you, ripping you from the trance you feel stuck in, and you twist quickly, slamming into Namjoon's chest before scrambling around him, out of his weak attempts at grasping you as you stumble back to the bed. 

All at once your body disagrees with gravity and you fall to your knees, arms reaching out to the bed but barely able to hang on. "What have I done?" you mumble weakly under your breath. 

Your head shakes listlessly while your eyes attempt to focus on the patterns of the comforter that you can feel but cannot see—lines of embroidered thread in shades of pink and red. You feel frantic and dizzy; sick to your stomach, and you are tempted to ask Sohee to drive you back to the jet. 

"I imagine it can't be easy," you hear Yoongi say sweetly in that kind and gentle voice that is reserved for you and Namjoon. "I am not offended in the least."

"Sweetheart," Namjoon calls, forcing your shoulders to lift to your ears. Why can't you disappear, just for a moment? Poof into thin air and become a dust mote while you get your bearings and stop panicking. "Did you take your medication this evening?"

It occurs to you that you have not. You manage to slide your arms down and rotate until you are on your butt on the floor with your shoulder leaning against the side of the mattress. You open the flap of your black leather purse and reach in to grab your phone, wondering why your daily alarm never went off, and you pull the device out only to realize that it has died. 

With a sigh, you rummage further in search of a little square pill packet. Before you can ask for water, you hear the bathroom sink running and a moment later, Namjoon emerges and hands you a small, dark yellow glass cup, which you reach for with shaking hands. You take a gulp of tepid water before setting the cup onto the floor and ripping open not only a packet of your medication, but a packet of Xanax, as well. 

"Would you prefer to stay here for the night or in Taehyung's suite?" Namjoon asks as he crouches before you, lifting a hand to gently rub the backs of his knuckles against your arm. 

"I wanna go home," you mutter weakly before knocking the pills from your palm to your mouth and swallowing them down with another gulp of water. Your eyes stare ahead to the side of Yoongi's open suitcase and the pile of black linen that pours from it.

"We could go home if you wish," Yoongi says, legs coming into the periphery.

You drink the last of the water and clench the small glass tight in your hand, then say, "I'm sorry," while closing your eyes.

"There's no need to apologize," Yoongi responds, voice close as if he, too, is crouched beside you. 

You keep your eyes closed as you mutter, "I didn't mean to react so poorly. It's been a long day…a long fucking week." 

"Care to talk about it?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon's knuckles continue to run up and down your arm, pushing and pulling gently at the fabric of your sweater, and you squeeze your eyes tighter and shake your head. "I want to sleep."

"Here or in Taehyung's suite?" Namjoon asks once more. 

"Or in the jet?" Yoongi adds. 

What you really want is to turn around and go home. You feel exhausted and seeing Yoongi is much harder than you expected. But it feels like a waste of time and resources to fly all the way here only to go straight back, so you concede to a night in Hong Kong and even allow yourself to consider doing a little sightseeing tomorrow if the three of you feel up to it. 

"The suite," you finally say, and Namjoon stops caressing you in order to stand and place a phone call. 

"Darling," Yoongi tries, and you finally pry your eyes open, finding that you have to blink a couple of times. When you turn to him, his injured eye is still closed and his open eye is downturned and concerned. "Is it really that horrible to see me?"

"No," you admit, because you really ought to stop being such a baby.

"I've missed you so much, but if I am being honest, this is one of the reasons I have been keeping a distance."

Guilt overtakes your fear and you suddenly feel terrible. "Oh."

"I thought that maybe if I healed first, you would want to look at me like you used to," Yoongi says with a frown. 

You begin to peel yourself off the end of the bed and rotate fully to face Yoongi, who crouches in just a pair of black briefs with the pink towel slung around his shoulders. His hair hangs like a damp black curtain around his pretty face, cheeks a little flushed, and you feel the sudden urge to crawl into his arms. 

"It's not that I don't want to look at you," you respond weakly while Namjoon paces around the bathroom speaking into his phone, presumably to Taehyung. "I just feel so awful, and seeing the injury is a reminder of how I fucked up."

Yoongi sighs and his lips turn up to a soft smile. "Darling, I can never hold an accident against you and Namjoon. Please know that I am not upset with you."

"Alright," you respond, unsure whether you are fully ready to accept what Yoongi says, but willing to at least try.

Namjoon returns and says, "Tae's calling the hotel now."

"I took a Xanax," you admit with a frown and both men begin to chuckle. 

"Do you want to try to eat something before you get too sleepy?" Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, making his smile widen. "Alright, then we'll order room service once we get there, because I definitely need to eat something."

The rest of the evening is a blur, in part because your emotions are all over the place, and in part because the medication completely dulls those emotions as you begin to shut down. Yoongi takes no time at all to get dressed and pack his suitcase once Taehyung calls with the confirmation that he has booked his suite for the three of you. 

Rather than ask one of The Tigers to drive you to the suite, Yoongi calls a driver who picks you up in the same type of armored vehicle that the men drive back home. You close your eyes once you are settled in the backseat and barely register Namjoon carrying you from the sedan to the penthouse and tucking you into bed. 

Thrice you wake up—once to pee and once because you hear a loud sound from the main room of the suite, you presume from the television. And then you wake up to the feeling of the bed dipping on either side of you and warm arms wrapping you in an embrace that feels like home.

You are somehow the last to wake up in the morning, and you find both Yoongi and Namjoon getting dressed in black tees tucked into black slacks. Yoongi wears his black eyepatch and has the top half of his hair pulled into a bun atop his head while the rest hangs almost to his shoulders.

"Are we leaving?" you ask, catching the attention of both men, who turn to you with smiles.

"Is it alright that we do?" Yoongi responds, threading a black leather belt through the loops of his slacks. "I know we have never done proper sightseeing here, but I am somewhat eager to get home."

"We can go home," you say as you sit up, stretching your stiff limbs and feeling groggy from getting too much sleep. 

Namjoon adjusts the Rolex around his wrist, then approaches with a smile, kneeling on the edge of the bed to lean close and give you a kiss, which you meet him halfway for. "After we have some breakfast," he says, and you smile widely and nod. 

Part of you laments going home already because you do not wish to return to a world where Yoongi has responsibilities. You imagine how nice it would be to stay in bed all day with the two of them and it tugs at your heartstrings. 

What would it be like to have a couple of days off like regular people? Sure, Yoongi has the money and influence to go anywhere and do anything, but it only feels like an illusion of freedom.

By the time you roll out of bed and stumble into a pair of black leggings and tug on a black sweater, room service is delivered and causing the entire suite to smell of eggs, meats, sweet breads, and coffee. The three of you share an easygoing breakfast with Namjoon and Yoongi discussing the deal that was struck while you space out and stare ahead at the table of food. 

And once you are finished eating, the three of you head back to the airport for a nice flight just short of four hours that involves the two of them talking over the same demon hunting anime that you struggled to pay attention to the first time.

Hoseok greets the three of you at the airport, and you are pleased to see his smiling face. You even surprise him with a hug when he exits the vehicle to hug the men, and you assure him that you have been taking good care of the pajamas he so graciously gifted you.

"So, the deal," Hoseok prompts as soon as everyone is settled, with Namjoon in the front seat and Yoongi joining you in the back.

"The girls are going to back off," Yoongi responds through a sigh as if he is bored of talking about this already. "We are keeping the dock in Busan and I am offering them a higher cut to keep them off our asses. With Jimin still injured, there is nobody I trust to oversee Serendipity aside from Jeongguk, so I have offered it to Ryujin as a consolation prize."

"Eager to keep Jeongguk home?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi hums in agreement. "We just got him back here full time and I would like to keep it that way. Once Jimin does wake up, he will need all the help he can get at Paradise."

"And did they have anything to say about the attacks?" Hoseok asks, causing you to feel uneasy.

Yoongi hums and takes his time responding, reaching across the empty middle seat to find your hand and hold onto it. You lace your fingers with his and stare down at your conjoined hands, waiting for him to continue.

"Ryujin apologized and admitted she was being a brat. She had the gall to say she was only sending out pawns to shake things up a bit, and that she never expected any of us to get hurt."

"Fucking bitch," Namjoon grits just barely loud enough for you to hear, and although you agree, you are surprised to hear him say that.

With another sigh, Yoongi adds, "She seems very remorseful for Jimin and offered a handsome sum of money to assist with his hospital bills, but I turned her down. The last thing I need is to give her a reason to hold anything else over my head…plus I don't need her fucking money. When she promised never to attack again, it felt genuine, but I suppose we will have to see how it goes."

"And Hyungseo?" Hoseok asks.

"It seems Ryujin has given over responsibility to Hyungseo but still calls the shots in many ways. I can't quite figure the two of them out."

Namjoon turns enough to look over his shoulder at Yoongi. "What do you mean?"

"They seem…close," Yoongi says, gently squeezing your hand as he pauses. 

Hoseok's voice is dripping with intrigue. "Close, how?"

"Too close to just be friends," Yoongi responds, "but maybe I am just reading into things too much. Either way, she kept her distance from me when we met, so whatever Hyungseo is doing, it is keeping her distracted."

"Thank god," you mutter before you can stop yourself, earning another squeeze from Yoongi's hand. 

Before anything else can be said, Hoseok makes a right turn and you hear the telltale sign of the metal gates scraping open, gaining you access to the mansion. And as soon as Hoseok pulls into the driveway, your eyes land on a sleek dark grey Porsche that sits in front of the garage. Atop the sports car is a giant red bow, and you know before asking that it is a gift for you.

"We're still two days away," Yoongi explains, referring to your birthday as he squeezes your hand once again, "but we couldn't resist."

You are so focused on the Porsche that you do not notice Jeongguk until Hoseok pulls up beside the car and he comes walking over from the mansion's front door, twirling the key fob around his index finger. 

Jeongguk is dressed in satin as if he is headed off to Paradise next, and the thought makes you feel sad; you wonder if they will bother to open it back up before Jimin recovers. The feeling does not have a chance to linger, however, because before you can hone in on the thought for too long, Jeongguk is opening your door with an impatient smile, eyes wide as if wondering what the hell is taking you so long to unbuckle your seatbelt. 

"Dollface," he says, kicking up butterflies and anxiety in your tummy.

"Gguk," you respond softly as you reach for the seatbelt and undo it. 

Everyone else is out of the vehicle by the time you are shoving Jeongguk out of the way and placing your feet on the ground. Your legs are tired from sitting for so many hours, and you stand on your toes to stretch before reaching for the key to your new car, which Jeongguk predictably holds over his head. 

With a huff, you reach, but it is no use, making you frustrated enough to shove at his chest with your palms, barely making him stumble backward. Thankfully Namjoon is on your side, and he reaches for the key fob and frees it from Jeongguk's grasp, making the youngest pout. 

"Thanks, Joonbug," you say with a wink as he hands it over, leaning close for a kiss before he lets you have it. 

The car is gorgeous, but there is only one problem…

"I haven't driven in years," you admit sheepishly, feeling your palm begin to sweat as it grips onto the key fob. "I don't know if I even remember how."

Namjoon says, "We'll teach you," at the same time Jeongguk says, "We can take her for a spin," making your cheeks warm. 

You turn to the left to find Yoongi—who has been awfully quiet—leaning against the nose of Hoseok's sedan. He smiles and nods his chin to Namjoon, saying, "He's an excellent teacher," and that settles it. Or, perhaps you will allow both men to give you guidance, and Yoongi if he wants. It takes a village, and all that.  

Although you are thrilled to be trusted with this symbol of freedom, you are also swallowing back so many emotions. This car has to have cost them quite a lot.

"She's armored," Yoongi says, pulling your attention back to him. As he steps toward the car and rubs his palm over the curve of its hood, you laugh to yourself over the way he is already personifying it. 

But then his words sink in, and you understand the gravity of them. Your concern must show, because he cocks his head, searching your face before adding, "As an extra precaution. We armor every car that we buy, darling; no need to worry."

"Of course," you mutter, returning your gaze to the car, then looking around to the men present. Your eyes trail from Namjoon to Jeongguk as you say, "Thank you," before returning to Yoongi.

"Yoongi bought it," Namjoon says playfully. "We just helped pick it out."

"It's beautiful."

"This is the first of many gifts," Yoongi says as he approaches, dragging his fingertips along the hood of the car until he no longer can and letting his arm fall to his side. "You will have plenty to unwrap in the coming days."

Your heart pounds and you smile, taking a step toward Yoongi and reaching for his belt loops, giving him a little tug that makes his smile widen. 

"And what if I just want to unwrap you?" You ask, causing a sigh and a groan from two of the four men present.

"This is my cue to leave," Hoseok announces while Jeongguk mutters, "Take me with you, hyung," and you laugh softly, eyes never leaving Yoongi.

He says, "That can be arranged, darling," and you raise your eyebrows, eager to find out just how much he means it. It has been far too long since you have gotten to enjoy him and now that you are home, you would like nothing more than to climb into bed.

"Alright, peace out," Jeongguk shouts, followed by the chime of a bell, and you turn to find him riding away on the mint green bicycle that feels more like a thing of legend than a real object. 

Without saying goodbye, Hoseok simply drives off, leaving you, Yoongi, and Namjoon alone with your suitcases standing on the driveway. 

"Shall we?" Namjoon asks, and you nod, turning your gaze to him as he begins to unlock the mansion. 

"Yes, please," Yoongi responds, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

"The luggage," you say, pulling toward where the suitcases sit, but Namjoon says, "I got it. You focus on unwrapping your present," with a wink.

You are pulled up the steps into the mansion, stopping just fast enough for both you and Yoongi to kick out of your shoes—Yoongi never dropping your hand—then through the mansion and up the stairs to the second floor. Yoongi yanks one of the bedroom doors open and tugs you straight to the bed, then he spins and releases your hand to take you gently by the face and pull you in for a kiss. 

Yoongi's lips are soft and his scent is familiar, causing you to instantly relax into the feeling and lift your hands to rub over his ribs and chest, palms gracing over clothed nipples until he gasps against you. When he mutters, "Missed you," it is into your mouth and chased by his eager tongue, giving you no time to respond. 

As Yoongi begins to pull at your clothing and undress you hastily, you close your eyes and sway to the movements, lifting your arms over your head and slowly lowering them back to his chest. The air hits your bare skin, causing you to shiver, and when he eagerly shoves at your leggings, you begin to giggle, opening your eyes to find him staring at you with his one good eye.

"You're so beautiful," Yoongi mutters softly, squeezing at your heart.

All you can do is complain, "Stop," but he shakes his head and says, "It's true."

Footsteps travel up the stairs and you hear the sounds of small wheels rolling over marble and softening over a rug before the noise ends. You expect Namjoon to join the two of you, but then the sounds of slippers slapping against the steps recede, likely to continue collecting suitcases. 

Yoongi continues to paw at you, leaving the thin lace bra and panties on and pulling you at the hips to get impossibly closer while you begin to untuck Yoongi's black tee and gather the bottom hem before lifting the garment over his head. His hair is a bit wild when you toss the shirt away and you reach to push your fingers into it, mussing it up just enough to make him laugh and shake his head. 

"You're so beautiful," you say with a grin, watching as Yoongi blushes so slightly.

Namjoon's footsteps return and you begin to undo Yoongi's belt, slotting a thigh between his to apply just enough pressure to his crotch to make him hiss. Hands reach around you to assist with undressing Yoongi, and when his pants are dropped to the floor, you turn so Yoongi can assist you with undressing Namjoon.

Without words exchanged, you kiss and touch, caught between bodies, eyes cloudy. The three of you tangle together on the bed and slowly explore one another as if the time spent apart has made your fingers and lips uncertain despite following expertly charted paths. 

You make love, taking turns to focus two on one at a time, worshiping to the point of overwhelm, murmuring soft promises and professions of love. Your heart feels full and your limbs light as a feather, tingling from pleasure as you drift to sleep, unsure how much time has passed save for the gradually shifting light that comes in from outside. 

Even from the moment you wake up, you feel emotionally heavy. Your sky is overcast and the clouds are thick and threatening to burst, unlike the bright evening that greets you from outside. 

Yoongi and Namjoon are fully dressed and curled on the couch watching something on the television while Namjoon plays with Yoongi's hair. As you stir and stretch, both men notice, and Yoongi begins to sit up with a loud yawn, stretching his limbs. 

"Hey guys…" you begin, uncertain. Lately you have really been wanting to visit Jimin. And you are not sure why asking for it is so difficult, but you swallow thickly as the two of them watch you with soft, patient expressions, and you ask, "Do you think we could go see Jimin?"

Yoongi beams and Namjoon nods, and you let out the breath that felt trapped in your lungs. 

"I can call Tae and find out whether we could go right now if you want to," Yoongi suggests, and you nod, stretching one more time.

You hobble out of bed pad over to the closet to change out of the joggers and tee you slept in only to grab a new set. Your sweaters are in your own closet, and you make your way out of the master suite and over to your room, feeling like a zombie with legs that are too heavy with each step. 

Without turning on a light, you reach into the dark space and feel for a cotton sweater, yanking the sleeve out enough to see that it is a nice forest green and then yanking it harder to free it from its hanger. Since you are already in your bedroom, you brush your teeth in your own sink, then you haphazardly yank the sweater over your head and make your way back to where the men are. 

Yoongi and Namjoon stand beside the door to the master suite, and you nod to indicate that you are ready despite nobody asking, then the three of you make your way down the stairs to the main hall. You slide into some black sneakers and open the front door, greeted by a cold wind and warm sun. Winter is on the horizon. 

The walk to Taehyung's place is quiet, save for the crunch of gravel and fallen leaves underfoot. You hold Yoongi's hand on the right and Namjoon's on the left, letting go of Namjoon when you come out of the clearing at Seokjin and Hoseok's home to wave hello to the two of them who smoke on their front stoops, dressed dapperly in black and white. 

Jeongguk is also outside when you come upon his property, and he asks whether you mind that he joins you, stepping in line behind you three and filling the air with weed smoke and light conversation about the quickly changing weather. 

Once you arrive at Taehyung's house, you feel antsy. You have never seen someone in a coma before and you are scared of what you may find. 

Taehyung greets you at the front door, taking the joint from Jeongguk and offering it around before stamping it out. Being high will only make you sleepier, so saying no is easy. 

He leads you all downstairs to a large fluorescently lit space, to the right past several doors. "It is likely that he can hear you, so try not to say anything you wouldn't want to hear while in a coma," he instructs, and you swallow thickly and nod, steeling yourself for whatever state Jimin could be in. 

Only, as you enter the room and approach the bed, you find Jimin looking just as he always does—angelic and beautiful. He lays on his back with his eyes closed and his arms at his sides with various tubes attached to his hands, and there is a steady beeping coming from a monitor on the other side of the bed. 

Chairs already surround him, and as you step closer, Taehyung calls out, "You have company today, Jiminah!"

The way his silence and stillness tugs at you makes tears break instantly. You sit in the center chair closest to where his hand rests, and you take it gently in both of yours, careful not to pull on anything attached to it. 

"Hey, Jimin," you say weakly, fighting the tremble behind each word, "I've missed you a lot. I'm sorry I haven't visited yet."

The others take their seats, Yoongi and Namjoon to your right and Jeongguk and Taehyung to your left. They greet Jimin and tell him the good news about the deal that went through with The Tigers and the Busan girls. Yoongi tells him about your upcoming birthday and you tell him that you wish he could be there as tears pour down your cheeks. 

It feels surreal. Jimin appears completely unharmed and yet he lays there, succumbing to and healing from a pretty serious injury. Taehyung informs the group that the wound on his shoulder from the bullet is healing nicely, but that they are just waiting for him to wake up. He sounds hopeful that Jimin could wake up any time—that his brain is functioning and every once in a while, his fingers ever so slightly twitch. 

The mood is somber but also happy, and you are glad to finally see your friend again. Taehyung and Jeongguk offer everyone a drink, to which you all agree, and Namjoon follows the two of them out, leaving just you and Yoongi at his side. Your hands sweat from holding onto Jimin's so tightly but you refuse to let go. 

Yoongi places a hand over yours, and when you turn to him, tears fill his eyes. Then he blinks and they run down his cheeks, followed by a sniffle. 

"Baby," you mutter and Yoongi shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks with his free hand and saying, "It's alright. He'll come back to us."

The two of you sit a little while longer and the others return with glasses of whiskey. They regale you with stories of the crew from the early days, commenting on how young and innocent Jimin has always seemed but especially back then, and you have a hard time believing his soft cheeks wide eyes could have ever been more cherubic than they are now.

By the time you all decide to head back home you feel much lighter, and with a kiss to Jimin's forehead and cheek, you promise him that you will see him again soon. And then you exit the room beside Namjoon with Yoongi and the terror twins close behind. 

"Do you shave him?" Namjoon asks once you are out of the room.

"Of course I do," Taehyung responds as if offended. "Can't have our angel laying there with a beard sprouting from his face. He would kill me."

You laugh in tandem with the group and imagine Taehyung shaving Jimin's pretty face with a straight razor, or even a knife. The five of you convene upstairs and have one last drink, then you head home for the day feeling a bit tipsy from enjoying so much whiskey on an empty stomach.

"Pizza," Namjoon announces once the mansion is in sight, and you and Yoongi hum in agreement. Pizza sounds amazing.

After a post-pizza nap, you wake up with the desire to touch and kiss the men who hold you on either side. Yoongi is pressed against your back and you arch your body to rub your ass against his crotch while your lips and teeth find Namjoon's neck. 

Namjoon is the first to stir, groaning and sighing as you suck and kiss harder, right hand drifting across his chest and down to his cock which is already erect. He stretches and begins to shift around, pressing against you and muttering, "What's this, sweetheart?"

"Need you," you whine in return, still on the edge of sleep but eager to shake it away as one hand gropes Namjoon and the other reaches behind to paw at Yoongi.

Yoongi finally grumbles, and you look over your shoulder at his pretty, groggy face while Namjoon begins to pull off his clothing and settle on his side. You allow Namjoon to undress you, kicking your joggers and panties down under the comforter while your shirt is tugged over your head. 

With Yoongi waking up and stretching his limbs, you roll onto your side to face him and begin pulling at his clothing. His eyes open and he cracks a sly smile, saying, "Well hello, darling," in a tone that is extra gravely from sleep. 

"I need you, kitten. How should we have you?" you ask, fingers moving to his button and zipper, eyes never leaving his face.

Yoongi's lips open but no sound comes out, and you kiss along his chin and neck, reaching your hand into his slacks to give him a squeeze over his briefs. 

"Excellent question," Namjoon says from behind you, mouth dragging over your shoulders and neck.

You swish your bare ass against Namjoon, causing him to hiss and groan, hand gripping onto your hip as if desperate for you to be closer. You shove at Yoongi's slacks until he finally begins to kick them down, then you yank at his t-shirt, giggling as he groans half asleep and struggles to help pull it over his head.  

"I have an idea of how I want the two of you," Namjoon continues as his hand moves from your hip and gently grazes over your labia in the faintest touch. 

"Oh?" you ask with a shudder, eyes on Yoongi, who settles on his side.

Yoongi leans in close and slots your bottom lip between his, sucking and nipping hard enough to make you groan. You open your lips for him to explore but he sticks to the bottom one, licking and teasing it with his teeth and tongue. 

"I want you to sit on my face, sweetheart," Namjoon says, voice deep and low beside your ear. You feel him reach around you and begin to stroke Yoongi, who whimpers against your lips. "And I want Yoongi to fuck you while I eat you out."

Before you have a chance to say anything, Yoongi deepens the kiss, licking against your lips before probing his tongue eagerly against yours. Namjoon's mouth finds your neck and you gasp and shiver into the feeling, body turning to hot wax between them, melting into the mattress.

"On your knees," Namjoon instructs, and Yoongi breaks the kiss to smile against your lips.

You do as you are told, rotating onto your knees while Namjoon scoots down the bed away from the pillows. Once he is settled you crawl over to his head.

Your panties sit bunched up beside Namjoon’s knees and you grab them and reach back to shove them into Namjoon's face, giggling to yourself as he groans but opens his mouth to accept his fate. Then you settle back onto your knees and straddle Namjoon's head with your hands beside his knees, keeping your hips lifted so that he has to reach for you. 

It is futile to be a tease with two men who are much stronger than you, but you try your best, lifting your weight when Namjoon attempts to pull you into place, giggling and trembling when he gives your ass a playful smack before somewhat roughly forcing you to sit back. 

Your panties are still bunched up around his chin when he holds you in place and begins to lick and suck at your pussy lips and clit, sending a burst of arousal through you. Behind you, the bed dips, and you do your best to sit tall with your back straight, hands anchored against your thighs for stability. 

Namjoon's talented mouth and the sounds he makes when he savors you—hums and groans of satisfaction—work you up quickly, and with each lick and suck your body quakes with pleasure. Yoongi's arms wrap around you, hands claiming and squeezing your breasts while he gets close enough for you to bow your spine and rest your head against his shoulder. 

"Just look at you," he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing over your skin and adding to the overwhelm of bliss. "I want you to cum before I fuck you. Can you do that for me, darling?"

"Yes, sir," you all but moan as the steady tongue and lips work you over and send you close to the edge. 

"That's our good girl," Yoongi praises, pinching and rolling your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. "Always so perfect for us."

The way the two of them make you feel has your head spinning. Yoongi's words of praise rasped in his deep voice while his hands tease; Namjoon humming and groaning while he pushes you quickly toward orgasm, gripping your legs so tight that you have no choice but to stay in place; everything is a lot. 

"I'm gonna cum," you whimper as your quakes deepen, making your body jerk uncontrollably. 

"Of course you are," Yoongi teases, nipping at your neck, making you feel somewhat humiliated by how he always has to tease you for being easy. "Make a mess of our Joonie."

The thought of Namjoon's handsome face glistening with your cum is the push you need to plummet over the edge, and you bow your back further, digging your head into Yoongi while broken sobs and moans fall from your lips. You cum hard, pressing your pussy against Namjoon's mouth as your body trembles through each heaved breath. 

Namjoon lays his tongue flat for you to use and each movement drags your lips and clit over it, feeling heavenly. That is, until the overstimulation kicks in. 

"Fuck," you whimper as your hips continue to convulse, unable to settle and relax. 

"Bend," Yoongi instructs, releasing your breasts to rub his hands over your back and shoulders only to begin pressing you forward. 

You obey, leaning forward until you are down on your elbows and close enough to Namjoon's cock to begin teasing the tip with your lips and tongue. Namjoon moans and you giggle as his dick jumps from the gentle touch. Precum dribbles from his slit, inviting you to lap it up and tease him with your lips.

Namjoon's lips and tongue continue to pleasure you, and you are thankful that from this position you are able to relax a little more, settling on one elbow while you lift your other hand to slowly stroke his length. Namjoon is vocal, moaning and groaning muffled sounds against your cunt that encourage you to not to stop.

Two hands grip your ass and you expect to feel the blunt tip of Yoongi's cock. In fact, you are so eager to feel him that you clench around nothing in anticipation. When Yoongi's tongue greets you instead, probing into your dripping hole and then dragging up, over your ass, you squeal and dig your face into Namjoon's pelvis. 

Two tongues as skilled as these are dangerous, and you do your best to breathe through the quick pace at which your pleasure builds and threatens to drown you. Yoongi focuses on your asshole, licking and teasing, digging the very tip of his tongue inside and making each breath come out ragged and quick despite your best efforts.

"Oh my god," you moan as the pleasure feels too intense you fear you might not make it out of this alive. You knew it would feel amazing to be devoured by the two of them, but never could you have imagined it would be this good. 

When Yoongi's tongue laps over you one last time and you feel the mattress dip while he adjusts behind you, there is a brief moment in which you are disappointed. But then his cock rubs over your entrance and you feel the eager thrill fill you once more. 

However, before Yoongi presses into you, he drags himself lower. Namjoon's lips leave your cunt and you hear a gasp and a hiss come from Yoongi that makes your heart pound. Yoongi holds onto your hips, digging his weight into you as he thrusts downward and you wish you could watch his cock disappear between Namjoon's full, pretty lips. 

Then Yoongi spreads and slightly lifts you, and before you have a chance to anticipate how he may feel, he thrusts deep in one swift movement, spearing you wide. The stretch makes you shout and whimper, and you bury your head into Namjoon's soft thigh skin while Yoongi pulls back and snaps forward again and again.

Sobs and broken moans fall from your lips, and a second pair of hands grabs your thighs and holds you in place. You feel Namjoon's lips and tongue drag over your clit in broad, sloppy strokes, and any ounce of sanity you had left crumbles away. 

Namjoon's skin is hot and moist against your lips, and you lift your head just enough to take a mouthful of his cock and do your best to suck while Yoongi fucks you. Precum leaks from Namjoon's tip, heady on your tongue, and his thighs quake as he moans loud and eagerly against you, urging you to suck and stroke as purposefully as you can.

"God damn," Yoongi groans as he gives your ass a firm stinging smack, causing a muffled squeal from your throat. "I missed you two so fucking much."

Namjoon groans, "Gonna cum soon," against you.

"I want you both to cum at the same time," Yoongi instructs. Luckily for him, you are very close. 

It is almost comical the way you and Namjoon both suck and lick with a little more intention, eager to push the other over the edge. And it works. 

You feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward the precipice of bliss, and you are right on the edge when a wet finger rubs over your asshole with a hint of pressure. A squeal sputters from your lips, and you drool around Namjoon's throbbing cock. 

"Fuck," Namjoon attempts to warn, but there is no need. You can feel him pulsate against your lips, and you relax your mouth while stroking his shaft in anticipation. 

Namjoon's deep voice cracks as the first spurt of cum hits your tongue, and he muffles his voice against your clit and sucks hard enough to make the dam break once more. Orgasm rushes over you so intensely that you struggle to keep your head steady and end up with ropes of his warm release on your nose and lips. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, pressing the tip of his finger deeper into your ass and intensifying every little sensation. 

"Fuck!" you scream, drool and cum dribbling down your chin. Yoongi fucks at the perfect angle to make you feel like you might squirt, and you attempt to warn Namjoon, but all you can get out is, "I'm gonna—oh fuck, I'm—"

Yoongi's grip is firm and his hips are punishing. Your body goes limp before it tenses once more and pleasure rushes from you, covering Namjoon. You think you hear deep moans and deeper praise, but your pulse is loud and heavy in your ears and all of reality seems to slip away from you. 

It is a mercy that Namjoon stops licking your pussy and slides back until you are straddling his chest. Little by little, your senses return, and Yoongi adjusts his position, anchoring one foot on the mattress as moans pour from his lips. 

You can hear Namjoon's mouth working Yoongi over, undoubtedly eating his ass, and you wish so badly that you could see it. But hearing it is enough, and you grip onto Namjoon's thighs for stability as Yoongi continues to fuck you at a punishing pace. 

Slowly, Namjoon begins to slide down the bed, out from under you, making you sit up and attempt to give him space. Yoongi very gently pulls you by the shoulders and forces you to stay sitting high on your knees while Namjoon repositions himself on his knees, facing you. His face and neck are drenched and his short dark hair is a wild mess. 

You weakly lift your hand to reach for him, beckoning him close. Namjoon smiles and knee-walks closer, taking you by the chin and rubbing a thumb over the cum that has begun to dry against your chin. "I see we both made a mess," he teases, and you nod as best as you can while moaning through Yoongi's deep, quick thrusts. 

"Fuck, I'm close," Yoongi grits between his teeth.

Namjoon licks his lips with a smirk. "Want you to cum in my mouth, baby," he instructs with his eyes on Yoongi but his lips closing in on yours. 

You lean ever so slightly forward and press your lips to Namjoon, moans and sobs falling with each quick exhale, some of which he swallows and some he merely licks around. Your tongue darts out weakly in an attempt to return Namjoon's sloppy kiss, but you struggle with each movement, hypnotized by pleasure. 

"Joon," Yoongi moans, hands gripping you tightly while he pulls his hips all the way back, pulling out and shifting his body to the side. 

You are held in place while Namjoon drops to his hands and leans forward. Although you turn your head to the left in an attempt to watch, all you see is Namjoon's head bobbing while Yoongi trembles and muffles his mouth against your shoulder. 

Yoongi moans and sobs and Namjoon groans, all the while you catch your breath, sitting in place until you are given instruction for what to do next; unsure whether you could control your body if you tried. 

The room quiets and Yoongi leans a little further into his hold on you before sitting back, causing you both to fall onto your butts against the mattress. When Namjoon returns, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a slow, deep kiss, his tongue is coated in Yoongi's release, and you lean into it and savor him. 

"More?" Namjoon asks against your lips.

You feel exhausted, but you definitely want more of these two. Anything they have in mind. 

"I wanna fuck Yoongi. How does that sound to you, sweetheart?"

It sounds amazing. "I want to watch you fuck Yoongi."

Namjoon sits back with a grin and nods, then he pats the bed off to the side from where you sit and says, "Come right here, baby. You can watch me stretch him."

It takes a moment for Yoongi to release you, and as soon as you crawl to your spot in the center of the bed, all the sweat and cum begins to turn cold, and you settle with your legs pretzeled and reach for the comforter to drape over your shoulders. 

Namjoon crawls past you to the small table on Yoongi's side of the bed while he instructs Yoongi to get on his hands and knees and crawl just enough that his ass is in view—perky and soft. He settles on his elbows with his forehead pressed into the mattress, and Namjoon opens a drawer and closes it, then returns with a clear half-empty bottle of lube. 

With a chance to settle and catch your breath, you are eager for more. But first, you want to watch Namjoon pull Yoongi apart. You have no idea where you may come into this equation, but you are unconcerned; they will make space for you. 

Namjoon sits behind Yoongi, takes his ass in both hands—dropping the bottle of lube to the mattress—and leans forward to lick over his rim, groaning and devouring him the way he devours you. Yoongi moans into the sheets, reaching for the bunched up comforter and squeezing it in his fist and you feel hypnotized watching Namjoon's tongue lap over him in firm, broad strokes. 

The vision is sinful, stirring arousal deep as you watch as Namjoon's hands squeeze and smack, making Yoongi moan and shake with each movement. Then you watch as Namjoon slicks up his fingers and buries them deep inside Yoongi one at a time. 

You wonder what it feels like to finger Yoongi and you get onto your hands and knees and crawl close, shivering as the comforter falls away, leaving you bare. Three of Namjoon's fingers disappear inside him, and you sit close on your knees, watching intently while reaching first to cup and squeeze at his soft ass and thighs, and then to tease the stretched skin of his stuffed rim with your fingertips. 

"Can I?" you ask, rubbing a finger between two of Namjoon's to slick the tip with lube and gently prod. 

Namjoon twists his hand and pulls nearly all the way out, pointing his knuckles downward and giving you an opening in between his fingers that are in almost a v-shape. You lean close and dribble spit onto his fingers, and then you slide your pointer to fit snug with his and slowly join him in stretching Yoongi wide.

"Oh my god," Namjoon groans as Yoongi trembles and sobs. He feels warm, tight, and soft, and you do your best to match Namjoon's pace pulling out and back in, out and back in. 

You ask, "You like the way we feel, kitten?" as you reach with your free hand to gather the precum on Namjoon's hard, neglected cock and give it a stroke that matches in pace. 

Both men moan and you pull your gaze from Yoongi's greedy ass to look at Namjoon who stares at you with a hunger that only excites you more. You bite your lip and give him your widest, cutest fuck-me-eyes and giggle when his expression morphs from pleasure. 

"You are so fucking sexy," Namjoon groans as he pulls your fingers out completely and takes your hand to lift it to your mouth. "Taste him," he commands, and you obey, lifting your finger to your lips and darting out the tip of your tongue.

Yoongi is heady and tangy-sweet, but his delicate natural flavor is masked too much by the artificially sweet lube. Still, you suck your finger into your mouth while holding eye contact with Namjoon, then you place your palm onto the bed and lean toward Yoongi, eager to taste him a little more. 

You feel a bit shy as you drag your tongue over his rim, but the way he moans and clenches around nothing urges you to do more. Namjoon slowly crawls forward, dick still trapped in your hand, and you spin your tongue over Yoongi, letting drool gather and drip to make him nice and sloppy. 

Namjoon settles with his cock so close to your mouth that you turn and take the tip, sucking in your cheeks just hard enough to make him whine before turning back to Yoongi to lick and tease. You can tell by the quick huffs and sounds Namjoon produces that he is growing impatient, and you continue to alternate sucking and licking until you feel satisfied with how worked up they both become. 

With one hand, you search for the bottle of lube while the other strokes Namjoon against your tongue, which is held out flat and drooling. Then you give his tip one last suck and sit back, popping open the bottle and squirting a generous amount of the sticky liquid onto your palm. 

You warm the lube in both hands and then smear some on Namjoon and some on Yoongi, dipping the tips of your fingers inside him to get him nice and ready, grinning when he trembles and sobs. And you stay on your hands and knees and rest your cheek against Yoongi's hip, spreading his cheeks wide and staring up at Namjoon as he shifts forward and lines the two of them up. 

Namjoon towers over the two of you like a god and you hold eye contact as he slowly begins to press his cock inside. Yoongi quakes and gasps, and you lift your head up just enough to watch as Namjoon carves him open. 

"Wow," you mutter, mesmerized by the sight of Yoongi's tight, perky ass swallowing a cock so big. 

With a deep groan, Namjoon asks, "Like what you see, baby?" 

You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod, responding, "Yes, daddy," in the cutest voice you can muster. Then you sit up on your knees and begin to crawl to Yoongi's head. 

Namjoon begins to fuck Yoongi hard and fast, punching sharp breaths from him and making his voice break. You sit on your knees in front of Yoongi and take a handful of his soft, sweaty hair, then you lift his face out of the blankets and force him to look at you. 

The scar takes you by surprise, making your stomach churn, but you quickly notice the rest of his fucked out, reddened face, and you lift your other hand to slot two lube-sticky fingers into his mouth giving him something to suck on. 

Yoongi sputters and sobs, lips gripping tightly to your fingers while his eyelids flutter, barely open. You very gently say, "Eyes on me, baby," and delight when he opens them wide. 

"Do you like how daddy fucks you?" you ask, giving his hair a gentle lift, causing his eyes to momentarily roll back before he focuses them on you. 

He attempts to say, "Yes, baby," but the words jumble cutely around your fingers.  

A loud smack makes Yoongi squeal, spit sputtering from his lips, and you glance up at Namjoon who stares down at you with a crooked grin. "I have an idea," he says, and you lift your eyebrows and cock your head.

"An idea?"

Namjoon hums. 

"And what is that, daddy?"

With a deep groan, Namjoon slowly pulls out, causing Yoongi's face to screw up with pleasure and then impatience. You keep your fingers nestled between his doll lips, watching as he breathes deeply through his nose, then you turn your attention back to Namjoon. 

"Yoongi baby, lay down on your back."

You slide your fingers from Yoongi's mouth and sit back, watching him flop down to the mattress and roll onto his back. Namjoon grabs his hips roughly and yanks him closer, spreading his legs wide. He wastes no time sliding his dick back inside, saying, "Now you sit on his face."

"Oooh, yes, daddy," you say excitedly, crawling over Yoongi's face. His cock slaps against his tummy, leaking precum, and you settle against him and waste no time reaching for it, eager to suck. 

Yoongi grabs onto your hips and wastes no time licking your pussy, surprising you with his sudden burst of energy as he reaches with one hand to finger you while squeezing your ass in the other. You attempt to moan as you swallow his length, sucking eagerly the moment a mix of his and your fluids grace your taste buds. 

You keep your eyes open to watch Namjoon's cock disappear inside him, and you make loud, needy sounds with the hope of urging one of them to cum again. This time, you want to be the one to swallow. 

Only Namjoon has other plans.

"On second thought, you should sit on his dick, baby."

You suck in your cheeks nice and hard one last time, then open your mouth wide to let all the drool that has collected on your tongue drip down his length. When you begin to sit up and move away from Yoongi's face and hands, he whines and attempts feebly to keep you in place before giving up and letting you go. 

Without anything obstructing his mouth, Yoongi's moans are loud and raspy; music to your ears. You turn around and straddle his waist, then reach between your legs and grab onto his length. 

With one pump of your hand, you line him up and slide yourself down, back bowing from pleasure and causing your head to gently bump into Namjoon's shoulder while you and Yoongi moan in tandem—his trembling from his lips at the rhythm of Namjoon's hips and yours falling short at the end. 

Namjoon wraps his arms around you, holding you in place against him while he fucks Yoongi—one hand slides to your throat and the other grabs onto one of your breasts—and you swish and circle your hips, burying Yoongi deep inside you and reaching spots that make your eyes roll back. 

Pleasure with these two feels like something out of a dream. Yoongi reaches with a slickened thumb and twists it over your clit, and you grind harder, matching Namjoon's rhythm and chasing your next high. You have no idea where you end and where one of them begins, and the sounds the room fills with—the moaning and sobbing; skin against skin—is absolutely hypnotic.

You cum without warning and scream, back arched and eyes wide to the tall ceiling. Namjoon fucks Yoongi hard enough that you barely have to move, body jerking uselessly while your senses tingle and dull once more and you fight your body to stay upright, thankful that you are held in place. 

"Look at him," Namjoon instructs, and you slowly drop your gaze to Yoongi, who lays with one hand high above his head gripping to the comforter and the other reaching for you. His eyes are closed and his mouth is agape, lips trembling around unvoiced sounds. With his dark hair fanning wildly against the bed and his skin slick with sweat, he is breathtaking. 

"F-fuck," he mutters, eyes opening only to roll back again. "I'm gonna— oh my god."

"Cum for us, pretty Yoongi," Namjoon says, hips never losing their steady pace. 

Yoongi moves his lips as if to respond to Namjoon but he appears too lost in pleasure to form words. You swish your hips and squeeze your pussy around him, pleased with yourself when his back bows and he begins to sob.

"What a fucking sight," Namjoon groans and you nod, unable to take your eyes off Yoongi as he squirms and pants, reaching his high. 

Without warning, Yoongi cums, filling you with his warm release while he gasps and continues attempting to form words that never make it past his pretty lips. Namjoon picks up his pace, cursing under his breath as he rattles and shakes Yoongi into a trance with his mouth and eyes wide.

Somewhat frantically, Namjoon gropes your breasts and tummy, squeezing as he huffs and moans against your shoulder, sucking harshly against your skin. He quakes and then freezes momentarily, moaning warm, moist breath into your neck. Then his hips rock in and out and in before he pulls all the way out with a groan. 

"On your back," he commands through an airy tone, and you do as you are told, not sure how he plans to continue going considering all three of you are fucked past the point of exhaustion. 

You hobble off of Yoongi and throw yourself down onto the bed, barely able to adjust before Namjoon has your legs spread wide and his face buried between them. He slurps at your dripping pussy, tongue pressing as far into you as it can, causing you to quake from overstimulation and pleasure as he laps up various fluids inside you. 

And then he breaks away and falls into a seated position and then further back onto his elbows, tilting his head to the ceiling and panting heavily. Your feet slide against the bed and you relax in a heap, instantly turning cold as the sweat settles on your skin.

"Bath," Namjoon mutters, and you nod in return. 

Yoongi grumbles incoherently and you cannot help but giggle.

"Fucked him stupid," you say, staring up at the ceiling and smiling as Namjoon begins to laugh.

After a bubble bath the three of you go to sleep, and you do not dream at all. Endless darkness holds you in its embrace. You sleep until an early hour of the morning, only to wake up and tiptoe to the bathroom, then return to sleep some more. 

You feel rested and happy when you fully rise several hours later, and a little shy when you find the room has been covered in vases full of roses and wildflowers of various colors. 

It has been years since you have celebrated your birthday.

Yoongi and Namjoon dote on you from the moment you wake up until it is time to get ready for your party, bringing you pancakes and mimosas in bed and taking you for a spin in your brand new car to get manicures and pedicures together. You allow them to insist on having your nails painted white with gold french tips, and you delight in how ticklish both their feet are as the poor technicians pamper them. 

Namjoon drives around the city until you find an ice cream stand along the river, and wearing average casual attire with masks covering your faces and baseball hats worn low over your faces, you almost feel like normal people doing normal everyday things—despite the security detail that stays ten feet behind you at all times.

And you capture everything. The flowers, the nails, the ice cream—everything is photographed and added to a folder to be uploaded to Instagram once you return home. Being that you are a semi-public figure, you worry that if news got out about your birthday and you did not post, people might start whispering. 

Yoongi takes a scenic route back to the mansion, holding your hand while he handles your sports car with ease, and you allow yourself to bask in an absolutely perfect day, thinking about how nice it would be if the three of you could exist this simply all the time. 

When you return home, the men kiss you and tell you to wait in your room while they get dressed for your party. Yoongi informs you that you have time to shower if you would like, and Namjoon says he cannot wait to see you all dolled up later. 

You do not feel the need to shower, so you strip down to a little black thong and find a black silk robe to lay around in, holding your hands up high to inspect your manicure and kicking your feet as you smile to yourself. Then you imagine how the giant engagement ring would look shimmering on your finger, and you hold your hands close to your heart.

In the quiet moment all to yourself, you drift in and out of sleep, unsure what to expect from the evening. And although you feel groggy when there is a light knock at your door, you sit up with a start and prance over quickly to greet your guest. 

With Jimin absent, a soft-spoken woman with long, dark brown hair and foxlike eyes named Yeji bows in your doorway. She is dressed like the family men in a black button-up tucked into black slacks, and carries a charcoal grey garment bag draped over her arm and a large black makeup case in her hand. 

You lean-sit against the edge of your bed, suddenly feeling a bit bare in your silk robe while she sets the case down and begins to unzip the garment bag and pull your gown free. To your surprise, the dress is off-white and all you can think about is how much it reminds you of a wedding dress.  

Yeji hands you the gown and turns her back to you as you stand, shed the robe, and begin to delicately step into the garment. You are going to need to swap your black thong for a white one, but otherwise it is perfect.

The top gathers in a halter over your chest, wrapping in a circle around your neck and leaving your back bare. Gold embroidery accentuates the neck and waist, and the skirt flows in layers of chiffon with high slits up the both sides, making you feel like a Greek goddess.

Yeji produces several blue Tiffany boxes and opens all but one of them. She adds beautiful gold bracelets with delicate diamond encrusted vines to your wrists and a matching gold and diamond vine ring to your right hand. Then she recommends several pairs of gold strappy shoes and offers a pair of gold ballet flats for later in the evening, smiling shyly the entire time. 

Your hair is pulled and twisted from your head and your makeup is minimal—hints of black with a dusting of gold on your lids and gold highlights on your cheeks. You assume there must be earrings in the final Tiffany box, but she leaves it untouched and gently lifts her fingers to your chin, urging you to straighten your posture as she scrutinizes your appearance with a soft smile.

"You look like a princess," she says, blushing and averting her eyes as you stand before your vanity and dance your fingertips over the skirt. 

You feel like a princess, and you smile widely as you say, "Thank you, Yeji."

A familiar knock on the door kicks your pulse into high gear and you hold your breath as Yoongi walks in wearing all white. A ruched, tunic-style linen dress shirt with long fluted sleeves hangs somewhat loosely but fitted in a way that shows off his broad shoulders and firm muscle. He wears fitted white slacks, gold necklaces, and his hair is styled in beautiful waves around his face. 

But what really takes your breath away is that for the first time since the accident, both of Yoongi's eyes are wide open and his stitches have been removed. A deep, pinkish-red gash greets you, making Yoongi's fierce dark brown eyes seem even more menacing; a fitting scar for a man in his position.

Your heart sinks at the sight but it also stirs something inside you. Somehow, the scar makes Yoongi even more attractive—a thought that you will need to unpack some other time. 

"Wow," you say, ripping your tear-filled gaze away from Yoongi's face and studying his outfit once more. "You look amazing."

For once, Yoongi is speechless and it makes you feel somewhat antsy. Rather than respond, his eyes continue to take in your outfit and his silence feels maddening. Is he also thinking about how much this gown looks fit for a bride? Is that why he looks at you this way? Luckily Namjoon appears and breaks the tension.

Also outfitted in all white, Namjoon wears a dress shirt tucked into fitted slacks and a white leather belt. His jacket has gold and clear gems embroidered in decorative bursts on the left shoulder and right breast, and gold gems line the wrists of his sleeves. His short dark hair is styled back from his forehead, and he wears dainty gold chains and bracelets, and small gold hoop earrings.  

"Sweetheart," Namjoon mutters as he steps up behind Yoongi and rests his chin on his shoulder. "You look…"

"Incredible," Yoongi finally says, eyes wide and teary with his arms straight down to his sides. 

"Just missing a couple more things," Namjoon says with a smile that dimples his cheeks as he turns to the vanity and grabs the final blue box. "While we were in Paris, Jimin and I went shopping for all of this jewelry. Do you like it?"

You lift your hands and inspect the vines that grace your wrists and finger, and you feel your eyes well with tears thinking about Jimin and the Paris trip that changed everything in more ways than one.

Your voice is soft and laced with emotion as you say, "I love it."

"I was particularly fond of these," Namjoon says, pulling your attention with the sound of the last box opening, "and we crafted the rest of tonight's theme around them."

Diamond encrusted gold earrings in the shape of vines shimmer from the soft blue box, and Namjoon lifts them for you to see. 

"May I?" he asks, and you nod emphatically, tipping your chin to give him access. He gives you the box, which you take in shaky hands, and then he delicately adorns each of your ears, warm nimble fingers working swiftly, giving you shivers as they brush against your skin. 

You glance into the mirror then take a step forward to get a view of your reflection. It appears as if the dainty vines climb up your lobes and they are absolutely stunning. The thought of Namjoon picking out the jewelry makes your heart swell with affection, and when you glance back at him and Yoongi, they watch you with reverence.

"Thank you," you say, eyes roving between the two of them. "This is too much, really."

"Nonsense," Yoongi responds, "you deserve the world. And Namjoon and I intend to give it to you."

Suddenly you feel shy and you lift your hands to cover your face, doing your best to hold back tears. You know in your heart that these men mean it when they say such ridiculous things. And you love them so deeply for it, even if the prospect terrifies you.

Your left hand is gently tugged away from your face, and before you can inspect who is responsible, you feel the cool kiss of gold on your ring finger, followed by the weight of the diamond it holds. Your heart pounds harder, and you continue to swallow back the urge to cry. 

"Shall we?" Yoongi asks, letting go of your hand and revealing a gold and diamond Rolex hiding under his long sleeve. "The party has begun but I thought we should be fashionably late."

Namjoon holds you in place as Yoongi helps you step into gold strappy heels, then he drapes a white fur evening jacket over your shoulders that barely covers your torso. Hoseok is in the driveway sitting behind the wheel of a red stretch limo sedan, and you shake your head at the emissions a beast like this must give off as you approach. 

The door opens from the inside and Jeongguk’s smiling face greets you. Taehyung is in the seat beside him and they are dressed in white fitted tuxedos and gold bow ties. 

“Dollface,” Jeongguk beams, taking your right hand while Namjoon steadies your left arm and you hoist yourself into the vehicle. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you laugh as you get seated facing the partition behind the front seats. Jeongguk and Taehyung have their backs facing the partition, creating a large square shaped space littered with gold confetti and buckets containing iced bottles of champagne. 

“How is our honorary buttercup?” Taehyung asks as he pops a bottle open. Yoongi enters to your left while Namjoon gets settled on your right. 

“A little overwhelmed,” you mutter while Taehyung pours a flute that Jeongguk holds onto before handing it off to you. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, darling, but the night is young."

You turn to Yoongi and lift your brow. From behind the black partition, Hoseok begins to leave the driveway as you ask, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Jeongguk pipes up, "Means you're gonna be overwhelmed as fuck when we get to Dionysus."

Everyone laughs and you join in, only somewhat showing your unease. The cold, bittersweet champagne helps calm your nerves, but it is difficult to feel settled when four pairs of eyes pierce into you—even Taehyung stares more openly than usual. 

You are tipsy by the time Hoseok reaches the city, and you silently pep talk yourself as the vehicle pulls up to a tall marble building with a red carpet outside. To your surprise there is a crowd waiting.  

Namjoon gets out first and steps aside, offering you his hand, and cameras flash in your eyes as you take it and slowly climb to the rug below, attempting not to stumble and struggling to lift your eyes. Although there is a stir from your presence, people begin to clap and cheer when they see Yoongi. 

You cannot fathom who any of these people are, nor can you imagine so many strangers so openly recognizing him. Are all of them somehow involved in the syndicate, as well? Does Yoongi have another reputation that you are unaware of?

The unmistakable whispers and murmurs begin about his scar, about your dress. Once Yoongi is by your side, crooking your arm into his elbow, Namjoon gets back into the stretch sedan and Hoseok drives off, leaving the two of you to make an entrance. 

You keep your eyes ahead, too shy to look at the crowd, and you walk under a large white and gold awning that stretches from the sidewalk to the large glass doors. Camera flashes threaten to temporarily blind but nobody stands in your way, and when you enter the hotel, everyone follows behind. 

Large gold and crystal chandeliers brighten the massive hotel lobby, and the red carpet stretches through the space, stopping at a set of gold elevator doors. You glance around at the light marble, white furnishings, and confused hotel guests littered throughout, noticing several armed guards stationed around the space dressed in white with gold bow ties, similar to your friends.

"What is this place?" you ask with wide eyes. 

"This is the hotel that I sold to lady Choi, the woman who was friends with my mother," Yoongi mutters close to your ear while you walk ahead, eyes dancing over the marble and gold, appreciating the extravagance. "What did Hyungseo refer to it as? One of my less flashy hotels?"

You remember the night in front of Paradise when Hyungseo taunted Yoongi—the night Jimin was shot. If this is what she refers to as less flashy, what do Yoongi's other hotels look like? Surely, she was just trying to rile Yoongi up, and you can see why it may not have worked. 

Yoongi leads you through the lobby to a gold elevator, and you are not in the least bit surprised when it takes you to the uppermost floor. You are surprised, however, when the doors slide open and the scene before you is somehow more decadent than the one you left. 

"This," Yoongi says magnanimously, "is Dionysus."

The tall walls and high arching ceilings are made of white iron and glass, allowing the glow of the moon and light pollution to add to the ambiance. Large arches of elegantly designed iron spandrels and ornate columns draw the eye to a second floor mezzanine that wraps around the space where guests stand with drinks, some dancing along to the music that sounds modern and downtempo but unidentifiable to your untrained ear. 

The floors are ash grey hardwood, and the furnishings are white and gold with the exception of  a massive oval-shaped bar made of dark hardwood in the center of the space. Tracking lights hanging from the grandiose ceiling assist delicate white and gold sconces that are placed throughout to brighten the space. 

"For obvious reasons, we chose to move your party," Yoongi informs as you step forward, gaze landing on more people you do not recognize than those you do. Changkyun and the rest of the members of the security team wear white tuxedos with gold bow ties, as well. Other guests are dressed in an array of colors, but it appears that nobody else wears white. 

An attendant approaches to take your jacket and you bow your head at him, shivering from the lack of warmth as Yoongi continues. "We renovated Paradise for this occasion, but I felt that having the party there might be too painful for all of us. Of course, a larger venue called for a larger crowd."

You hum in response, still taking in your surroundings, undoubtedly with your mouth hanging wide open. "Wow," you finally mutter, lips moving like a fish out of water as you struggle to find the words to describe the way you feel.

Dionysus is massive, and the lengths staff members must have gone to in order to decorate for your party do not go unnoticed. Gold streamers and green vines entwine, snaking up columns and along the edge of the mezzanine and bar, and gold balloons are placed throughout accentuating corners, tables, and various other points, along with piles of gold disco balls scattered around shimmering with reflected light. 

The staff wear gold leather and latex. Clothing is scarce, barely covering them, and they are painted from head to toe in gold glitter as if carved from the shimmering alloy, carrying intricately carved golden trays of food and drink. 

"Are you pleased?" Yoongi asks. 

You nod emphatically and turn to Yoongi with tears forming, forcing yourself to look into his eyes and not stare at the reddened slash that cuts over one of them. Although the sight makes your stomach momentarily ache, you are undeniably happy. 

"Yes," you say, taking a step forward and placing your palms over Yoongi's chest. The giant rock on your left hand shimmers in the bright light of the venue, sending a pang of uncertainty and worry to your gut that is only somewhat masked by your joy.

"Let's get you a drink," Yoongi says, gently grabbing your wrists before spinning around and linking your right hand in his left while tugging you toward the bar. 

A nearby server carries a gold platter of champagne flutes, and when Yoongi reaches for one and hands it to you, there are even gold flakes floating around inside. Ridiculous, you think to yourself, but also very thoughtful.

One sip of the champagne takes you by surprise; it is light and sweet, different from what you are used to. And, to your delight, the gold flakes seem to have no flavor. 

"Ah, here they are," Yoongi announces, and when you look up, the other five family men—dressed in the same white and gold attire—are approaching, holding matte black gifts of various shapes and sizes.

"Oh, no," you mutter to yourself, feeling your cheeks become hot. "This party is already enough."

"Nonsense, darling," Yoongi whispers close to your ear, voice deep and inviting. 

The music changes and suddenly the entire room is singing happy birthday. You feel embarrassed enough to hide behind your hands, but Yoongi gently takes your champagne flute and sets it aside, then tugs your wrists downward, forcing you to watch as the family men approach with their gifts.

"I thought the switchblade was my present," you tease, looking between Jeongguk and Taehyung the moment the song stops. Of course, since that fateful night, you have not moved the switchblade from where it sits in its case atop your bedside table in Yoongi's bedroom.

"Well, since you must announce the elephant in the room," Taehyung teases, holding out a rectangular box about five inches long and two inches tall, "we worried that you may hold some animosity toward that weapon and decided to gift you another option."

Another weapon, he means. You already know from the size and weight of this box that Taehyung is gifting you a handgun. Still, you tear at the matte black gift wrap and pretend to be surprised as you reveal a black velvet box containing a subcompact Glock. 

You do gasp, however, when you notice the beautifully carved flowers and vines along the handle of the gun, and you feel somewhat emotional when you look back at Taehyung and say, "Wow, this is beautiful."

"We have a variety of holsters that you can choose from," Taehyung says with a proud smile. "Come by anytime to rummage through our collection."

"Alright," you respond as you turn to hand the gun off to Yoongi. Staff seem to have carried over a round high marble-topped table and he sets the box in the center.

Next is Hoseok, who gives you a stunning Tiffany statement necklace that is shaped like a gold scorpion tail, and Seokjin gives you a dainty gold Rolex watch with a mother of pearl face.

Jeongguk steps forward and hands you a box that contains a little metal cocaine vial and you laugh so loud, your voice echoes through the large venue. "I have one more for you," he mutters quietly, "but it would be inappropriate for you to open it here, so you'll have to come by my place some time soon."

Namjoon kisses your forehead with a smile, making your cheeks warm at the thought of the crowd noticing as he says, "The rest of my gifts are at the mansion." 

You shake your head, knowing that all of the jewelry you wear is from him, muttering, "You've already done too much."

But then he hands you a small gift box and says, "This one is from Jimin."

Suddenly your heart feels heavy, and you accept the box with a tremble in your hands. You rip at the matte black paper but your hands shake so hard that you have to turn and set the box onto the table just to open it. 

You expect more jewelry to greet you and it takes a split moment to process what you are looking at. In a small pile against black velvet is a gold keyring containing three keys and a golden dove charm. You lift the keys to inspect them, finding each one inscribed with one word: Paradise, Studio, and Home.

Tears well and you drop the keys back into the box, cursing the universe for being so unfair. Jimin has given you sanctuary in so many ways and you are unable to thank him. 

Shaking your head in an attempt not to cry, you are hit with a dizzy spell, but in an instant, arms are around you on three sides, pulling you into a soft shield of material and warmth. You keep your head tilted upward, worried about staining anyone's white jacket, then take in a deep unsteady breath. 

All you can think about is how happy Jimin had been for your approaching birthday—how excited he seemed about your gift. Although you just visited with him yesterday, you miss him now more than ever.

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jeongguk take a step back, and you smile, wiping the tears from your face and gently as you can, worried about smearing your makeup. 

"Thank you," you say weakly, causing the room to erupt with cheers and clapping, reminding you that you are surrounded by strangers. 

Another table has appeared while you were not paying attention, and one after another, strangers bring gift bags. You are informed by a member of the security team that each gift has been carefully inspected, but you feel too embarrassed to watch as guests come and go, bowing and muttering words of thanks without looking anyone in the eye, and turning instead toward the bar. 

Yoongi sidles up to your right and turns you gently by the shoulders to face him, rubbing his thumbs beneath your eyes. To your left, Namjoon orders seven glasses of neat whiskey. 

Guests come by to wish you a happy birthday as you wait for your drink, and you thank them politely and glance around the space looking for somewhere to go to have some privacy. When Namjoon finally hands you a glass, you waste no time gulping down some of the rich liquid. 

"Do these people know who I am?" you ask into your drink while smiling and waving to strangers who greet you from a distance. 

"In theory, yes," Yoongi responds, placing a hand on your elbow and leading you past dancing bodies to the far side of the space. "They know who I am, and they know about the ring you wear."

"They're treating me like I'm the queen of England," you complain, slamming back the rest of your drink.

Yoongi's voice gives you chills as he leans close to say, "That's because you're the queen of Seoul, my love."

Ahead, under the mezzanine and past a group of partygoers, is a black curtain hidden somewhat inconspicuously with Changbin clad in white and gold standing guard with a wide smile.  Changbin greets you with a warm hug while Yoongi pushes the curtain aside revealing a door through which you quickly walk, finding a carpeted storage room full of cardboard boxes and stacked tables and chairs. 

"Thank god," you grumble, turning to Yoongi to begin searching his pockets for his cocaine; yours is out on the gift table. "This is a lot more overwhelming than I expected."

"We could find another way to overwhelm you, if you'd like," Yoongi offers with a grin, leaning his forehead against yours as you unscrew you the vial and lift piles of white powder to one nostril after the other.

You inhale harshly and rub a knuckle against your nose, asking, "We?"

Seconds pass before the door opens and in walks Namjoon and Jeongguk. 

"We," Yoongi finally responds, lips tugging into a devious smile. The cocaine shimmers through you and you waste no time taking him up on his gracious offer. 

"Yeah, okay," you say, grabbing a chair and sitting with your legs spread wide, bare from the high slits in the skirt that make it fall open on each side and between your thighs. "Do your worst, gentlemen."

The three of them drop to their knees, Jeongguk crawling forward first, hands rubbing over your calves, up to your thighs. "I should be quick and get back out there," he says, wasting no time lifting the skirt flap that covers you and burying himself beneath. 

He makes a mess of your panties, nipping and sucking over the mesh, driving you wild with anticipation long enough to make you begin whimpering, "Please, Gguk. Please stop teasing me."

Jeongguk yanks your panties to the side and devours you, lips and tongue dancing a familiar, glorious dance over your clit, making you sink in the hard wooden chair while doing your best not to let your hair touch anything. Although you are sure nobody on the other side of the door can hear you, you muffle your voice with the back of your hand and use the other to grip Jeongguk's head as best as you can with layers of fabric in the way. 

It takes very little time for Jeongguk to make you cum, back arching off the chair and hands falling to your sides to grip its wooden edges to keep you from sliding to the floor. Jeongguk appears from under your skirt, face flushed and hair tousled, wiping your release from his lips and chin with a dopey smile. 

"Bathroom is to the right when you exit," Namjoon teases as he begins to use his fingers to fix Jeongguk's hair. Jeongguk stays for a moment longer on his knees, searching your face as if he has something he wants to say before finally getting to his feet, leaning close, and pressing a heady kiss to your lips.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," he mutters, though his eyes say a lot more. 

"Thank you," you respond meekly, struggling to hold his soft, caring gaze. Your mind echoes, Do you think you could fall for someone like me? And once again you think that you could.

As soon as Jeongguk turns to leave, Namjoon lifts the center flap of your skirt and tosses it over your hips, revealing your cunt, which feels cold behind wet mesh. Yoongi spreads you further as he crawls beside Namjoon, and the two of them take turns using their hands and mouths to slowly pull each thread of sanity from you. 

You cum twice more and the two of them keep going, ignoring your pleas for mercy, teasing as they say, "I can't take anymore isn't your safeword, baby."

"Too bad we can't make a real mess of you," Namjoon complains as he nips against your thigh and keeps the thrusting of his fingers to shallow movements. 

"Tonight," Yoongi insists, and you nod robotically, feeling too fucked out to do anything but let pleasure overwhelm you, just as Yoongi promised it would.

Your legs may as well be cooked al dente by the time they finish and you stand in an attempt to straighten yourself out. Spit and cum cause your panties to stick uncomfortably but you feel too blissed out to care. 

Namjoon goes ahead, placing a soft kiss against Yoongi's lips and then yours, and Yoongi delicately does his best to clear away any makeup that has smudged beneath your eyes. He kisses you deeply, moaning in tandem as you melt against him and taste yourself on his lips, and you think to yourself that this night is nearly close to perfect.

"I have one more thing," he says, and when you meet his gaze, it is soft and a little worried. "I hope you don't mind how unromantic this room is…I just can't bear to wait any longer."

You continue to catch your breath after the orgasmic ringer those three put you through, and when Yoongi reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue box, your brain screeches to a halt before attempting to make sense of what you are seeing. 

Yoongi holds up the box and says, "I just want you to know that when you feel ready, this one is the deal," but the words do not compute. That is, until he opens it.

Nestled in blue velvet is a platinum band adorned with three diamonds. Although the center stone is much smaller than the ring you wear, there are two pear-shaped stones on each side. Tears cloud your vision and the sound of your pounding heart is deafening. 

"Namjoon helped me pick it out," Yoongi continues as if you are not in total physical distress, falling apart with each second that passes. 

Your next breath heaves from your lungs and you feel your knees threaten to buckle. Is Yoongi actually proposing to you on your birthday, tucked away from everyone else? A promise for when you are ready to receive it is still a promise that is spoken in real time, and the weight of it is crushing. 

"Darling?" Yoongi tries, but his voice feels distant and you stumble backward, feeling as if you might faint. 

Yoongi is quick to catch you by the elbows and sit you back down on the chair. "Darling, are you alright?" he asks, but you feel too sluggish to respond, heavy-blinking but unable to focus on him. 

Yoongi takes out his phone and thumbs around. "Taehyung," he says, voice laced with worry. "Come to the storage room quickly."

Although you want to shake your head and insist that everything is fine, you are not sure you can do that much. Time and space elude you, your ears ring a high, terrible pitch, and you squeeze your eyes closed, only opening them when a cold compress touches your forehead, zapping you into the present.

"There you are," Taehyung responds, gently rubbing his knuckles along your cheek. "We lost ya for a bit."

Your skin is cold and clammy, and you shiver, wishing you had your jacket. To your surprise, Yeji is at your side with a stoic expression, and she opens her black makeup case. 

"Sorry," you mutter, dizzy and uncertain of what just happened. Yoongi and Namjoon stand behind Taehyung watching you with concerned expressions, and you begin to worry about how long you have been away from the party. 

"You didn't miss much," Taehyung says as if reading your mind. He lifts a small flashlight to your eyes from the side like he did the night he checked you for a concussion. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," you admit with a sigh. "Hungry."

Taehyung hums and nods, saying, "Once she touches you up, come back out to the main hall. I'll tell them to bring out the cake."

Cake sounds incredible and you nod, mouthing, "Thank you," with barely a sound coming out. 

Yeji touches you up quickly, blotting away sweat and applying a little makeup before bowing and taking her leave. And when you stand, you feel much steadier on your feet, albeit a bit jittery. 

When it is just Yoongi and Namjoon left in the room, the two of them kiss before Namjoon kisses your forehead and leaves. Yoongi swallows thickly and watches you as if he is waiting for you to speak first, so you do, voice trembling and weak.

"That wasn't a reaction to the ring," you lie. It may have been, but you do not want to face that possibility at the moment. "I don't know what came over me. Sorry, baby."

With a nod and an uncertain smile, Yoongi takes your hand in his and tugs you to the door, out into the small dark space and past the black velvet curtain. And in an instant, you remember that you are completely surrounded with strangers and that you need to keep your cool and stay on your feet. 

As soon as the two of you walk out into the main hall, staff members cart out a massive cake while more of them carry bottles of champagne crackling with sparklers. The room erupts into shouting and clapping and you feel yourself go hot under everyone's stares, wondering whether anyone is speculating on what happened while you were away. 

You eat a slice of decadent strawberry jam cake, and once you feel better, you drink and dance and drink some more, doing your best to push out all thoughts of that ring. Felix even joins you, spinning you around and laughing like old friends. Euphoria kicks in with the family men around, and you find it easy to return to the feeling of joy, eager to face everything else in the morning. 

By the time you return to the mansion, you are stumbling from your feet aching but also from all the champagne and whiskey. Namjoon carries you from the stretch sedan to the front door and Yoongi peels away your strappy shoes before taking you into his arms so that a drunk, clumsy Namjoon can get out of his shoes. The three of you make your way upstairs and you bury your face into Yoongi's neck as you ascend. 

"We still have more gifts," he mutters and you sigh happily, insisting, "Tomorrow."

"Would you like to sleep now?" Namjoon asks. "Or shower first?"

Although you know that you should clean your face, you are exhausted and whine to be taken to bed. Thankfully Yoongi carries you into the ensuite first and sets you onto the cold marble counter so that he and Namjoon can gently wash off your makeup, remove all of your jewelry, and encourage you to brush your teeth. 

They help you undress and step into warm joggers, pulling a soft black tee over your head. And the moment your head hits the pillow, you are out like a light. 

You are riddled with nightmares and toss and turn, struggling to stay asleep but too groggy to stay awake. 

In some, Yoongi's wound bleeds while you grip onto the dripping knife. In another, he and Namjoon have cast you aside and left you to fend on your own with nothing but the little black dress and combat boots that you wore into the mansion on the very first day they kidnapped you and brought you home against your will. 

They laugh and tease and make you feel foolish. Like a conquest and nothing more. Cheap, tossed aside, and all used up. 

But the dream that really shakes you to your core is one of Jimin's funeral. He lays in a glass casket wearing a gorgeous black lace gown and veil, face pale and lifeless as marble, and you sob uncontrollably, throwing yourself at the glass and begging for him to wake up. 

The funeral crowd erupts in cheers and laughter, and when you glance up, hundreds of the man who shot him surround you, holding out his smoking gun. You lift your gun and shoot, sending hundreds of the man to the floor with his brains leaking through his many foreheads. 

And then you wake up screaming. The room is empty with the exception of the many flower vases that surround you, and you feel dizzy as soon as you quickly sit up, grabbing for your pounding head.

Moments pass with nothing but your own sobs and you cry loud and horrific, clenching the black and gold comforter close to your chest with one fist, desperate to get the image of Jimin lying dead out of your mind. But it is no use; you can feel residual anguish leftover from the dream clawing its way into your heart for safe keeping.

Footsteps rush to the door and you hear Namjoon barrel forward, shouting, "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Unable to speak, you shake your head, but then a piercing pain around your temples and in the back near your neck halts your movement and you cringe and grab once more onto your head, leaning forward. 

You hear, "Darling," but Namjoon quickly says, "Get Taehyung!" and Yoongi's voice drifts away as he shouts for him. 

You wonder if they have been meeting in the main hall, and you thank your lucky stars that they are all there. Then you feel the urge to vomit, scrambling for something to get sick into before everything fades to black.

In a blink you are on your back, laying in bed with a cold wet compress against your head. The family psychiatrist Christopher is there and he and Taehyung are muttering about medication side effects as you blink them into focus and stretch your limbs. 

"Buttercup," Taehyung says softly as he approaches and leans close, feeling your forehead. "What do you say we take a trip to my examination room so I can have a look inside that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"

"Oh," you respond sluggishly, licking your dry lips and weakly nodding your head. You ask, "Did I faint again?"

With a frown, Taehyung says, "I'm afraid so."

Namjoon approaches with a hoodie and Taehyung helps you sit up. In the back of your head there is a sharp pain, and you feel nauseated the more you move. They slide one arm after the other into the sweater and then Namjoon sits on the edge of the bed with his back to you and tells you to climb up. 

It takes effort but you knee-walk to Namjoon and fling yourself over his shoulders. He stands slowly and adjusts your legs in his hold, and you bury your face against his neck while he carries you from the room, down to the main hall, and out the front door. 

You hear the voices of the other family men but none of them regard you, and for that you are thankful. The air is chilly and you hold tightly to Namjoon, listening to the familiar crunch of gravel and leaves underfoot while Yoongi and Taehyung chatter lowly behind you. Briefly, you think you may begin to fall asleep. 

The examination is not so bad, but the MRI makes you nervous. The whir of the machine is scary, and although your eyes are closed, you feel claustrophobic inside the enclosed space. After getting a good look at your brain, Taehyung checks your heart, draws blood, and leads you to a small bathroom where he asks you to pee in a cup. 

Then he asks you to meet him in an examination room where he will join you shortly, but you go to a different room instead. With a sigh pouring through a smile, Taehyung assists you with gently moving Jimin's arm, making space on his small bed, careful of all the wires and tubes.

You lay on Jimin's bed, head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart with your eyes closed against bright white fluorescent light. Namjoon and Yoongi sit on the other side of the bed with their heads leaned close, not speaking a word, and after you find yourself drifting off for a moment, Taehyung returns. 

"I can't determine a physical cause for your sudden bout of fainting spells," he says, which should be good news but not having an answer is also worrisome in its own right. "They began before you started taking your medication, so the best I can surmise is that it is not a side effect to that medication, and that it is likely caused by trauma and stress."

You hum, unsure what to say. Yoongi and Namjoon also say nothing. 

"Did you take your medication yesterday?"

Truthfully, you are unsure, but you are inclined to think that you may not have. Shaking your head softly against Jimin, you mutter, "I don't think so."

Taehyung hums. "I want you to be a little more mindful of your medication, alright? Lay off any drugs or alcohol for a little while, and eat on a regular schedule. We're going to monitor your heart rate and blood pressure regularly, too. Does that sound alright?"

"Alright," you respond automatically, attempting to let everything sink in. 

Trauma induced fainting is not something you want to deal with on top of everything else. And with Yoongi's most recent proposal of sorts, nausea kicks up and you begin to fear for the worst.

"Could be that you need a vacation," Taehyung continues, writing on a pad of paper as he speaks. "A lot has happened around these parts lately, and perhaps this is your body telling you to get away for a while."

Get away for a while. 

You know in your heart that getting away could be the only option. With your mental health deteriorating so fast, it is hard to imagine it won't get worse. 

But how much time away from the mansion is long enough? How much longer will you attempt to heal and move on from everything that has happened while surrounded by your stressors and waiting for the other shoe to drop?

The only solution is to get away entirely.

How will you break things off with Namjoon and Yoongi, especially after that gesture last night? Whereas the ring you have been wearing symbolizes a fake union, the ramifications of it have always been real. Real threat of danger; a real target on your back. 

Now, with the prospect of genuine engagement looming over your head, your fight or flight instincts have you feeling the strong, overbearing urge to run far away and never look back. Playing mafia wife is one thing but becoming a mafia wife is petrifying. 

How long will you be able to look Yoongi in the eye knowing that you gave him that scar? And if Jimin never wakes up, how long before you stop blaming yourself for his injuries? It is easy for Yoongi to assure you that he does not hold anything against you now, but how do you know that won't change? 

And if you are at the heart of one more tragedy—one more grand fuck up—and Yoongi dies with a needle in his arm, will Namjoon not blame you? Is that something you can live with?

Sometimes important decisions—ones that we know we have to make—still hurt like hell.

"Alright," you mutter again, unsure what to say. 

On the other side of Jimin's bed, Yoongi and Namjoon hold onto one another while you think about how you are going to approach Seokjin. After all, he is the one offering you a way out. 

You hate that this might be the last time you ever see Jimin again, but you feel grateful that at least Yoongi and Namjoon have each other. At least all of the family men have each other, you tell yourself. They can and will get through this next phase together. 

It will hurt like hell. They may all come to hate you. It could even push Yoongi over the edge. 

But you are certain that you cannot be around to witness another crack in the foundation. And you cannot put your well-being on the line just because someone else's may be threatened. 

You cannot keep doing this, but there is no other way that you can see turning down another one of Yoongi's proposals without disappearing instead. Even imagining the prospect of walking away breaks your heart and causes tears to form in your eyes.

Maybe in another life you could have been perfect. But in this life, all you have is heartache. In this life, all you have is fear and uncertainty and the brassy scent of blood. 

The only way out of a life like his is death.

Above all else, you know that you can not wait around to watch someone die. You cannot hope and dream and wish for a normal life while the men you love continue down paths of uncertainty and danger. 

You deserve a chance at a normal life. You cannot keep living this way. They cannot force you to stay in the mansion and live like this any longer. 

It's now or never. 

Calm myself A cup of tea Could give me good comfort Calm myself A couple of weeks Could make me forget you

🎵 visit the playlist

ONE MORE CHAPTER, AHHHH!!!! and then a sequel!!! don't worry this is not the ending!!! but it is still an ending so to speak, so HOW DO YOU FEEEEELLLLLLL??? any ideas of what Jungkook gifted her for her bday???

you may have noticed that some of the scenes did not get the usual Collateral treatment of the reader being fully aware of everything mc is aware of, including the mention of a conversation mc & Namjoon had at the start of the chapter, as well as the conversation that happens when Jimin is in a coma where i breeze over her being regaled with stories from their past. the first conversation is in Namjoon's POV scene, and i have been planning for a long time for the conversation at Jimin's bedside to be the topic of Yoongi's POV scene, so i left those details out. more information, including a teaser for Yoongi's scene to come in the near future!

but if you are curious about the Namjoon POV scene that takes place between this chapter and the earlier one (20), where he devises a plan to get Yoongi back from Hong Kong and has a heart-to-heart with mc, you can access it here. i highly recommend you at least read the teaser in order to see parts of the conversation that takes place between Namjoon & mc!!! in the full version of the POV scene, it is mentioned that Yoongi's ex carried a bouquet of wildflowers and roses on the day of their cancelled wedding. did you notice those flowers in this chapter? do with information what you will (it'll come up in the sequel.)

as promised in the beginning notes, let me distract you a little with Dionysus!!!! it is actually a club in Chell's fic Blessed With a Curse (which you should absolutely read!!!) and i became obsessed and wanted to steal it (with permission!!!) (it turns out it's a real place lolol.) much of my ability to describe it at all came from Chell's writing and i am so grateful to have an amazing friend who allows me to use their inspiration for my own. she's a super talented writer who is also a big fan of this story, and more than anything i wanted the presence of Dionysus in this story to be a nod to her because i care so much about her.

check this fucking place out:

obviously i changed some details here and there, and really did not even fully go into detail because it is a lot and architecture words allude me and i really have no idea what i am doing. (if you know more technical terms that could add to the description, i would love to know!!! i have no qualms with sneaking info into the fic on the sly.)💜

these end notes are becoming so fucking long lmao i am so sorry. i used to put nothing at the ends of fics/chapters and now i am writing entire dissertations.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations of reposts allowed.

#yoongi mafia #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts poly #bts mafia #bts angst #namjoon mafia #jungkook mafia #fic: collateral #Spotify

[lovelyspring7]

Moonstruck | Yandere KNJ x Reader

Preview: Namjoon had this all planned out. Your father was a smart man, but unfortunately, even smart people make stupid decisions. He had abandoned you like a coward, saving his ass like the selfish man he was, thinking that leaving you would be the safest option for the both of you.

If you truly didn’t know where your father was, then maybe he should know where you were. After all, it would be rude to not attend his daughter’s and future son-in-law’s wedding.

Genre: Yandere, Mafia au

Word count: 7,7k

Pairing: Yandere Mafia Boss Namjoon x Florist/daughter of a hitman reader, gangster Seventeen Jun.

Warnings: yandere, forced marriage, stalking, kidnapping, obsession, drugging, blackmail, isolation, murder, use of taser, non consensual touching, non consensual kissing, physicalviolence, abuse of power, manipulation, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, cursing, use of knife but not on people, blood, guns, absent mother, divorced parents, former alcoholic father.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviours. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: My mind is BLOWN, I did NOT just write something like this did I? Oh well, I hope you guys enjoy the one-shot. Feedback is very much appreciated!💜

Soon. Soon enough will all of this be over.

Growing up and seeing your father avoid and deal with loan sharks since you could remember. Haven’t always been the easiest to handle.

You don’t blame your father because after your mother left your dad stopped working, the drinking got even worse, and for a while you had to live with your grandparents until your dad got his shit together.

After a year he claimed he had gotten everything sorted out, but no one believed him until one day he showed up at your grandparent's house with a bunch of gifts.

The same day, he treated you to a nice day at the carnival. He brought you all the tasty sweets, went on all the rides with you, and won you a plushy that became your childhood favorite toy.

For a moment, you forget all the pain from seeing your father and mother fighting for years, seeing mysterious cuts and bruises on his body, and seeing your dad get drunk to the point where he would pass out.

It had been a while since you felt happy and hearing your father laugh and smile, it made you feel like everything was fine now.

That was until you found out how fast your fairytale was coming to an end.

“Sweetie, I'm talking to you, don't walk away!” Your father yelled from the kitchen.

“What dad?! You lied! You said you’d stop borrowing money from them.” You explained, frustrated by the whole situation.

“I know, I know I’m sorry I just-“

“Just what? Put yourself in danger once more? Dad, I can't go through this again!” You shouted, heartbroken that he would do something like that, knowing the harmful consequences.

“I’ll give the money back to them I promise, I’ll make it right.” Your father promised, stepping closer to you.

“How can I believe you?” You asked, finding it hard to believe him this time.

He took a glance at the bag filled with cash on the kitchen table.

“I’ll meet them up tomorrow and sort things out.”

“Promise me.” You said, raising both your eyebrows at him.

“I promise.” He promised, looking into your eyes.

“Come here sweetheart,” He said, pulling you into a hug.

You hesitate before wrapping your arms around him, letting him hug you. He breathed out while he kissed the top of your head.

“I promise I’ll make it right, now you go to bed, you’ve had a long shift.” He said as he quickly let go of you.

“And hey, I love you.” He said, smiling at you.

You gave him a soft smile, saying I love you back before taking a last glance at him while walking up the stairs to your room, hoping this time it would be different.

Your father started to get good at hiding, running away, and protecting himself from those who wanted to harm him. He managed to stop coming home all roughed up for a while.

He knew what he got himself into, the moment he took out his first loan, but what he didn’t know was the danger he had put you through as well.

The next morning you wake up still very tired, you look for your father but can’t seem to find him, assuming he’s out.

Running on 4 hours of sleep, you hurried to your full-time job at the flower shop.

You liked working there, mostly all your life it has been hectic and stressful, not a moment of peace and harmony, and feeling like you have no control over your life.

Taking care of flowers in the most gentle manner possible, carefully selecting the most beautiful ones one could imagine and making them into bouquets, happy to know that it would make someone’s day better made you feel content and in control of something for once.

“There you go.” You said to a customer, giving them the bouquet of the white peonies. “Thank you for shopping with us, hope your fiancée loves the flowers.”

“Thank you, she’ll surely love them, they are her favorite.” He said, smiling as he took the bouquet and stared at them lovingly for a few seconds before wishing you a good evening.

Tired from standing up all day, you stretch and as you let out the yawn you’ve been holding onto, ready to close the shop and go back home.

Before you could flip the sign that said closed, you see a woman approaching the shop, “I’ll be quick I promise.” She spoke loudly enough for you to hear from the other side of the glass door.

With that, you opened the door for her, “Thank you so much.” She said walking into the shop, “I need a bouquet for my mother, she, unfortunately, doesn’t have many days left.” She explained, looking down when she said the last part.

Feeling bad, and happy that you let her in, “I’m sorry to hear that, do you know what kind of flowers she likes?” You asked, walking toward the flowers you had left.

“I think roses?” She said, trying to remember. “Yeah for sure roses.”

“I have a few left in the storage room, I’ll go get some.” You said, taking the keys from the counter, you unlock the door looking for roses. You find some left, but you weren’t sure if she wanted a specific type, thinking you should’ve asked her that first before you came down here.

You turn around and see her standing there. “I’m sorry but no customers are allowed to be back here.” You said, cautiously watching her walk closer to you as you took a step back.

“Oh, I’m not a customer.” She said as she quickly pushed you down hard, making you fall onto the ground, along with shattering a few vases with flowers in them.

You quickly come to your senses as you try to hurry back up, but she takes a fist of your hair in her palm as she harshly pulls your head back and inserts something sharp into your neck.

“Let go!” you yell and to your surprise, she does.

You try to stand up but fall back down, laying down on your side as you couldn’t move and got weaker by the second. “I got her.” As soon as she said that, you could vaguely see two other men running into the room until your vision went fully black.

———

You try to squint your eyes open but quickly shut them when you feel a stinging pain in your throat, you hiss and try to reach for your neck so that you could rub the pain away.

Pulling, you can't seem to bulge your hand free, pulling even harder you now fully open your eyes, and you panic when you can’t seem to move from your spot. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’ve been tied up on a chair, with both of your hands tied behind your back.

“What the fuck?” You whispered in a slightly raspy voice from the lack of water, you tried looking around for something you could use to set free until you remembered you had a pocket knife in your back pocket for when you used to trim the stems of the flowers. Utterly delighted that you had put it there, you try to reach your back pocket to pull it out but quickly stop when you hear voices coming from upstairs.

“Do you think she knows where her father is?”

Of course, this was about your father, damn it.

The voices got louder as they tried to unlock the door.

“I don’t know, but she’s our best luck for finding him.”

“We better, you know how the boss is.”

With that, a man entered the room. “Good morning sleepy head. I’m Jun!” He said cheerfully, walking down the stairs.

“How long have I been sleeping for?” You asked, scared that you might've been asleep for days.

“That's at least one of your worries.” He said, smiling.

“Your father, where is he?” He asked as he got all serious.

“I don’t know.” You said annoyed, he walked closer as he harshly grabbed your face “Don’t fucking lie to me.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“I’m not fucking lying.” You managed to say, trying to seem tough but the truth is you were one moment away from having a panic attack and crying your eyes out.

He roughly let go of your face, “Your father is a traitor, do you know what happens to lowlife scum like him? Hm?” He asked, smirking before speaking up again.

“They end up six feet under.”

Your heart began racing, you had no idea what he was talking about but whatever it was, it was something horrible. You didn’t get it, all your father did was borrow some money. Who could he have possibly betrayed?

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about?” You said truthfully.

“Your father was supposed to kill someone that caused us enough trouble, at the last second he spared his life and let him go. This almost caused us trouble.” He said, taking something out from his front pocket.

Your father attempted to murder someone? This can’t be right, you knew him, he wouldn’t do something so disgusting as taking another human life.

“Of course, we took him out, and now we need to take care of your daddy as well.”

“And you think I’ll tell you where he is?” You asked, thinking how stupid they must be for you to snitch on your father.

“For your best, I sure hope you do.” He said, holding up a taser as he walked closer to you.

“No, wait! Please!” You pleaded, trying to squirm away but it was no use, he aimed for your stomach.

You yelled from the cruel stinging pain, shaking as you lost control of your body. “What was that dear? Are you ready to talk?” He asked, not receiving an answer from you, he tried to tase you again but the ringing from his phone stopped him.

He answered the phone while looking at you, smirking. “Yes, boss? I understand, it won't happen again.” He said, as he hung up, looking embarrassed and frankly a bit shaken up.

“You’re lucky, I’m not allowed to touch you anymore. Only watch over you.” He said, putting the taser back into his pocket while standing against the wall, watching over you like a hawk.

You let a shaken sign out as you pulled your head back, relieved that you didn’t have to be tased again.

You carefully try to reach for the knife in your back pocket but can’t seem to have the strength to do so, your hands couldn’t stop shaking and your grip was weak. You had to be smart, they weren’t gonna let you go that easily and even if you did tell them where your father is, they would still kill you, there’s no doubt about that.

You tried connecting the dots, your father must have been a hitman. It makes sense, you didn’t want to believe it, but how he made money so quickly, how all of it was always in cash, and all those nights he used to come home late.

It made sense.

Your mother must’ve thought he was cheating on her if she’d only known it was much worse than that.

Getting a headache from all the shit that has been going on, taking a nap, and trying to regain your energy to recover faster would be the best thing for now. With that, you close your eyes and let sleep take over you.

———

“So?” Namjoon asked on the phone, getting out of his car.

“She’s sleeping, for now, boss, I don’t think she knows. She’ll be useless for us.”

“Don’t fucking underestimate me, you’re on thin ice Jun.” Namjoon threatened, ready to get rid of Jun at any moment now.

“My apologies, sir.” Jun quickly said.

“I’ll visit later today, keep a close eye on her, and don’t fuck up.” He said, hanging up the phone and pressing the button on the top level of the elevator.

Namjoon had this all planned out. Your father was a smart man, but unfortunately, even smart people make stupid decisions. He had left you like a coward, saving his ass like the selfish man he was, thinking that this would probably be the safest option for the both of you.

If you truly didn’t know where your father was, then maybe he should know where you were. After all, it would be rude to not attend his daughter’s and future son-in-law’s wedding.

———

You woke but you didn’t move a muscle, thankfully you felt much better than you did before. With your head down, you slightly open your eyes to see if the guard dog was there, you could see his shoes standing in the same spot you saw him last. Still acting like you’re asleep, you try to reach for the knife you had in your back pocket, you get a hold of it with your fingers as you slowly slip it out.

Still acting like you’re asleep, you magnate to cut free from the rope, catching the rope as it almost landed on the floor, making a sound. You grip the knife tightly in your hand and act as if you just woke up.

Yawning before speaking up, “hey bastard, this place got a bathroom?” You asked, looking around, jumping your right knee up and down.

“No,” he said in a monotone voice.

“What do you get out of this?” You asked in a curious tone.

“Hopefully the pleasure of killing you.” He coldly said.

“Go for it.” You said like it was nothing that your life could end at any minute now.

“Oh right, you can’t.” You smiled smugly. You could see he was getting annoyed by poking his tongue into his cheek, giving you a death glare.

You needed him to get closer to you.

“You need permission from your big, scawy boss don’t you?” You laughed loudly, mocking him.

He almost marched closer to you, bending down to your level while smiling maniacally as he took the taser out, but before he could tase you, you quickly kicked him hard in the face resulting in him falling on his back.

You quickly got up from the chair and searched for the keys to the door in his suit. Looking at him, you must’ve given that man a concussion judging by the amount of blood he had running down from his nose.

You finally found the keys, you took the taser and taser him a few times on the highest level possible just in case he woke up, and for him to have a taste of his own medicine.

You get up and walk to the basement door, still not feeling the strongest, you manage to unlock the door open and see if someone is nearby, thankfully no one was in sight.

You try to run down the stairs, looking for an exit, to your luck, you find a door leading to what seems to be a parking lot, you look at the building and it looks familiar, you finally remember where you’ve seen this place before.

In a magazine, it’s the famous luxury hotel in the country: Kim Hotel.

Was it a slump? Was the business shady? Maybe the hotel was a coverup for the bullshit that went down there.

You start panicking at the thought of being involved with such powerful people, you feel like you couldn’t breathe so you start to hyperventilate, feeling dizzy you don’t notice the man approaching you from behind. “Miss? Sweetheart, are you okay?” He said, looking at you up and down, making sure you weren’t physically hurt anywhere.

This was your chance, frantically you try to explain that you needed help “Help- help me I’ve been kid- kidnapped and-“

“It’s okay slow down, slow down tell me what happened?” He asked, looking at you while holding the sides of your arms, trying to understand you but not being able to.

You took a deep shaky breath before speaking up, “a woman, she kidnapped me and a man looked me up in the basement.” You cried, looking over your shoulder in paranoia.

“Kidnapped?” He asked, with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes! And-and this woman, she drugged me and he started to taser me.” You continue as your voice gets louder and shakier.

“Shh it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He said, trying to calm you down as he pulled you against his chest, hugging you while trying to calm you down by rubbing your back in circles in a comforting manner.

“I forgot my phone in my office, it’s not far. I’ll call the police from there.” He said, pulling away to look at you.

“Okay, but we need to hurry, they might find me.” You said, looking around once again.

“Come with me.” He said, taking your hand as he led you inside the hotel through the back door.

Trying to act as natural as possible and avoid attention. You try to avoid the workers, scared that they might recognize you and report you to their boss.

You get into the elevator and notice he’s pressing the top level. You finally reach the highest level, still holding your hand, he takes you into his office.

He was well off, he looked like it in his grey suit. He made you sit down on the couch in his office, bringing you some water to hydrate. You gladly took it as you thanked him and chugged the whole thing.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “Sir, the police.” You reminded him.

“Oh, I didn’t bring you here to call the police baby.”

“You’re the boss aren’t you?” You asked, fearing for your life, hoping that you were wrong. But his dimpled smile was enough of an answer.

You grip the armchair, digging your fingers into the black leather couch, looking at the door you came in from before.

How could you be so stupid?

“Don’t, even, think, about it.” He slowly said, watching you from his desk.

“I don’t know where my father is.” You admitted.

“I know you don’t know,” he said, walking closer to you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, you started to tremble, trying to back up a little bit he quickly got a hold of your chin as a warning not to test him. He slightly tilted your chin, making you look up at him. “Do you think your father cares about you?”

What he asked caught you off guard. Not answering the question right away, “Yes, he cares about me a lot.” You said, glaring at him.

“Is that so?” He gently let go of your face and sat down on the couch on the opposite side of you.

“Then why hasn't he saved you yet? You’d think he’d be looking for you after three days, after all, he was the one that got you into this mess.”

3 days?! You had been kidnapped for 3 whole days! You hated admitting it, but he’s right. Surely your father had his reasons, maybe he’s plotting to save you right now?

Not knowing what to say, you look down as you try to stop your tears from falling. Trying to stay strong for the both of you.

“Let’s test how much your father cares about you, hm.” He said, leaning closer to you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, scared by what the answer might be.

“Surely he’d quickly come and try to save you by offering himself, that is if he saw his baby girl getting married to the man he hates more than himself.”

“No, no I can’t do that! I refuse!” You stood up, attempting to run to the door but you fell on your knees.

Fuck, he drugged you. The familiar feeling was back, your vision getting blurry as the ringing in your ears began.

“Ah, perfect timing.” He said, referring to the drugs he has put in your water.

“Don’t worry, we’ll sort everything out once you wake up.” He explained, crouching down to carry your bridal style. Fitting, you thought.

“No” You managed to whisper while trying to push him away, but it was no use.

“Shh, it’s okay, just close your eyes and we’ll be there before you know it.” He tried to reassure you.

Not having the energy to fight it anymore, you close your eyes, the last thing you saw was his dimpled smile while he looked down at you in awe.

“I’m taking her to my house, prepare for the wedding. And take care of that imbecile Jun.” Namjoon said to one of his men, annoyed that no one seems to be competent these days.

“Yes sir.”

This was it, he finally had you exactly where he wanted.

———

You groan as you slowly wake up, feeling hot and sweaty. You remove the blanket from your body to feel the cool air touching your skin. Feeling a little better, you quickly sit on the bed and look around, not knowing where the hell you were.

You found yourself in a bedroom, laying in a king-sized bed surrounded by soft pillows and blankets. The room was huge, and most of the furniture was black and grey, with some gold details.

You try to remember what had happened, and the last thing you remember was talking to him about getting married…

You start to get stressed out so you get up from the bed, now noticing someone has changed your clothes into silk pink nightwear. You started to freak out, he dressed you and took your knife?!

You start looking for an exit, ready to get the hell out of here. You run towards the door and try to open it, but it won’t budge.

“Going somewhere?”

You freeze at the spot you were, slowly turning around to face him.

Where the fuck did he come from?

“Baby I asked you a question?” He said with knitted eyebrows, walking closer to you. You don’t dare to move, “Nowhere.” You said in a low voice.

“For your sake, I hope not.” He said, looking at you up and down, knowing you’re lying to him.

“Where am I?” You asked, looking out the window trying to figure out where you were, but it was no use because all you could see were trees and bushes.

“Your soon to be home.” He simply said, now standing right in front of you.

“As I said, I won’t do it.” You said, fed up at this point.

“Baby, I wasn’t asking.” He said, getting slowly frustrated by your refusal to comply with his sick, twisted request.

“I’m being generous enough by letting you know beforehand.” He said, trying to catch your gaze.

“I don’t even know you.”

“My name is Kim Namjoon, I’m 28 years old, and my favorite color is yellow.” He quickly said.

You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, so you just stood there looking at him weirdly.

“How long?” You broke the silence, “How long until?”

“Hopefully, we’ll be married tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?! You thought, you slightly widened your eyes, not believing what he had just told you. That doesn’t give you enough time to plan an escape, you have to think of a plan, fast.

“Where’s my ring?” You asked, playing along to his twisted game.

He smiled, delighted that you asked him that question. “I thought we’d go on a walk, I know how much you like flowers.” He said, gesturing to you to hold his arm like two couples in love.

You weakly smiled at him as you grabbed his arm, he walked you out of his beautiful house. Too bad the owner of it is scum.

He opens the front door and you’re greeted by an almost magical looking view, it looks enchanting.

It was large and had all kinds of different flowers and plants, they all matched in similar colors, making it look neat and dreamy.

You walk closer and the fragrant floral scent gets stronger as the warm wind softly goes by while the sun shines brighter than ever, you almost forget he was next to you until he spoke up “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” You said truthfully, not being able to take your eyes off it. You walk through the garden only stopping to touch the soft, silk-like petals of a ranunculus.

You spot big yellow rose bushes and walk towards them, you slightly bend down and smell the lovely roses that had violet and almost lemony scents. The aroma calms you down, reminding you that everything’s gonna be okay, eventually.

“Why yellow?” You asked, turning around to face him, curious about what he’d say.

“I once heard that yellow roses represent delight, new beginnings, and happiness.” He said, looking at you as he had a pleased smile on his face.

The sun shined even brighter, it laid on top of his honey-like skin, he looked warm and welcoming. For a second there, he almost seemed innocent and pure.

Namjoon got a hold of your hand as he took something out of his pocket, you weren’t sure of what it was until he gently slid it on your ring finger.

Your heart started to beat fast again as this situation you were in got even more real, if he wasn’t some deranged psychopath, this would’ve been very romantic and lovely. But unfortunately for you, he was.

You quickly slip your hand out of his, and you start to get even more nervous. What if your father didn’t come? What will happen if he doesn’t? Will he get rid of you too?

All these thoughts started to race through your mind and your breathing got even quicker.

“Baby what’s wrong?” He asked, noticing the state you were in, holding your face as he scanned the issue, not knowing it’s him that’s causing you to panic.

Wanting to desperately get away from him, you try to pull yourself together for once. “Nothing.” You breathe out, looking at the flowers that give you comfort. “Nothing, I’m- I’m fine.” You reassured him, trying to control your breathing, avoiding his gaze and touch on your skin.

That was until he suddenly pulled you in and kissed your forehead, it seemed like he was checking your temperature because he stayed like that for a few seconds. He didn’t look like he believed you because he sent you to his bedroom and told you to get some rest, after all, you needed it for your big day tomorrow.

“Boss, he decided to reach out.” One of Namjoon’s men said, giving him the phone.

“Let her go!” Your father yelled at the end of the line.

“Or what?” Namjoon asked, amazed that he dared to speak in such a high insulting tone with him.

Like father, like the daughter he chuckled.

“This is between us, she has nothing to do with this.”

“Well now she does, I have you to thank for that don’t I? Father-in-law?” Namjoon teased.

Your father grew angrier by the second, ready to curse Namjoon out as he cringed at the last part.

“You put her in this situation, I’m just claiming what’s mine after all these years.” Namjoon simply explained.

“Namjoon you bastard!-“

With that, Namjoon hung up the phone. At this point, it didn’t matter if your father came to try and rescue you or not. He had his mind set already, you were his and nothing was stopping him from getting what he wants: you.

———

You sit in Namjoon’s room for what seems like hours, not being able to sleep. You look around for other possible ways to escape.

You could break the glass windows, but that would be too much of a risk. You sit on the bed, running your hand through your hair in frustration but soon get interrupted by a knock on the door.

The person enters the room, and you look up and see it’s the dog from the basement. He seemed more roughed up than you saw him last, he must’ve gotten a beating.

“Take this, Bosses orders.” He says, handing you some kind of pill and putting a tray with food on the bed.

The pill looked like a painkiller, but you weren’t taking your chances. You’ve been drugged two times already, enough is enough.

“I’m not taking that.” You quickly said.

“Please, just take it.” He said, looking at you scared of what Namjoon would do to him if he messes up once more.

You started to feel bad for him, so instead, you gave him the pill.

“You look like you need it more than me.” You said, giving him a slight smile.

He hesitatingly took the pill, looking at it for a second before swallowing it without any water.

Before he could leave, you just had to ask “Do you have any news about my father.” You asked, desperate to know anything at this point.

He stops for a moment, not sure if he should further interact with you.

He closes the door and walks closer to you. “I heard he called earlier, he’ll for sure be there tomorrow. And when he does, he’ll get killed. There’s no doubt about that.” He explained.

Relieved that your father was alive, “You said my father lied about killing someone he should have?”

He nodded before speaking, “But I think the issue is more than just that, usually boss stops when the person is dead.”

“I think he’s angry because your father betrayed, and humiliated him.” He clarified.

That somewhat makes sense, but why does he need to marry you? Maybe it was to piss your dad off?

You take a deep breath, ready to ask something that could either set you free, have you live in eternal misery, or not live at all.

“Can you please help me escape?” You whispered harshly, grabbing his arm and looking at him in desperation.

“I can’t, it’s too much of a risk.” He looked at you as his eyes widened by your sudden plea.

“You don’t have to do much, I just need a distraction.” You tried to persuade him.

You study him, not sure if he’d want to help you or not. His life is at stake already, it would be stupid to help you and he’s already risking it by talking to you right now.

He breathed out through his nose, “Okay fine, but we need to be careful. We only have one shot at this.”

“Thank you.” You said, almost not believing that he agreed with you, you could’ve sworn you imagined it.

“When you walk down the aisle, I’ll set off a distraction by shooting nearby, Namjoon will order his men to take care of it, and when he does.” He pauses.

“You run.” He says, dead serious, he takes out his car keys giving them to you, “The car is parked behind the house. You drive until there’s no more gas left, do you understand me?” He looked at you in the eyes, holding your hand with the car keys in your palm.

Before you could answer, you hear the door open. Quickly letting go of your hand, he walks out of the room with his head down. You look at Namjoon glaring at Jun until he fully leaves, he closes the door and takes off his suit jacket, “I hope he didn’t bother you.”

“No, he just left some food with a painkiller.” You said, tightly gripping the car keys in your hand. You were sure it would leave a mark but you didn’t care.

You watch him nervously as he ripped off his tie, “huh,” he said, walking toward the walk-in closet to get changed. Meanwhile, he was there, you quickly put the keys in your bra.

He came out a minute later, wearing shorts with a simple black T-shirt that sat snuggly on his body, highlighting his silhouette and toned figure.

What a waste of handsomeness you thought.

“Have you had a chance to see your dress yet?” He asked, sitting on the bed edge of the bed.

“No.”

“I have a few selected for you, you can choose the one you desire. I also have a few trustful people hired to take care of your hair and makeup.” He explained, pausing to turn to look at you. “So don’t try to escape. Understand?”

“Yes.” You said, looking at the tray of food. Not sure if you should eat it or not. What if it had some kind of drugs that make you feel too tired to run away?

Before you could decide if you should eat or not, your stomach decided for you because it suddenly started to make a grumbling growling sound.

You looked down at your stomach, cursing under your breath, embarrassed that he had heard you, but surprisingly the big scary mafia boss laughed.

You looked at him, thinking why was he laughing?

“Cute.” He said smiling, carrying the tray to the coffee table. “Eat up, it’s safe.”

Not needing to be asked twice, you decided getting some food in your system wouldn’t be so bad. So you get up and sit by the chair near the table and start eating.

After finishing your food and getting ready to wash up, Namjoon suggested that you should sleep early, to look your best tomorrow.

You finish washing up and walk towards the bed to grab a pillow to sleep on the couch. Namjoon notices, “What are you doing?” He asks

“Sleeping on the couch?” You said, stopping at your spot.

“No, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” He ordered, grabbing the pillow out of your hand while pulling you to bed.

“Fine.” You said through clenched teeth, giving up easily, not wanting to anger him.

You try to put a pillow between you guys but he quickly grabs it and throws it on the ground. Soon enough, he pulled you in by your waist so that he could be the big spoon.

“Seriously?” You asked, irritated while you tried to get away by pushing him, but it was no use.

“Shh go to sleep now, you’ll need all the beauty you could get.” He coed, turning the lights off as he wrapped his arms around you while he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Hating how suffocating, but somewhat nice it felt. You try to relax, thinking over the plan and hoping that Jun wouldn’t betray you.

This was your only chance, you couldn’t afford to mess it up.

———

You are woken by an annoying beeping sound, still feeling a bit groggy, you try to locate the sound by listening to where it came from.

Ah, the alarm clock. You aggressively hit it, still in bed with your face buried into a pillow.

Or so you thought because it started to vibrate, making a chuckling sound.

You quickly look up and see Namjoon staring at you with sleepy, sensual looking eyes, greeting you with a good morning smirk.

You swiftly get up from bed, now finally feeling fully awake. You clear your throat, “Uh, it’s bad luck to see the bride on the wedding day before the ceremony.” You explained, continuing to play the part.

“You’re right, but I have a good feeling about this.” He said, sitting on the bed before getting up to get ready.

“Baby, I need to take care of some things. Can I trust to leave you alone?” He asked, walking towards the bathroom.

You nod, as you watch him turn on the shower. You turn your back around, checking if the key was still there because it strangely felt a little too comfortable, thankfully it was still there.

Now all you had to do now was get dressed without someone noticing you have a piece of metal between your boobs.

You sit on the bed for what seemed to be a half an hour, waiting for Namjoon to get ready to leave. He fixes his tie once again, “They'll be here in five minutes. Can’t wait to see you then.” He said, gently kissing your forehead before heading out.

It wasn't long until a whole team of makeup artists and stylists swarmed into the room.

You look at the dresses Namjoon had chosen for you to choose from, they were all beautiful wedding gowns but you had to let your personal taste stay behind because you needed to choose the most practical dress to run away in.

You chose the one with less fabric and more space so that you could run fast. The dress was still very stunning as it looked gorgeous.

While you got your hair and makeup done, you couldn’t help but stare at your wedding ring the whole time. Hating the feeling of the beautiful diamond ring wrapped around your finger like that.

It wasn’t long until you were ready, the team that had gotten you ready looked pleased, waiting for you to take a look at yourself in the mirror.

You turn around and see that you looked almost unrecognizable, not in a bad way, but more in a way where you didn’t ever think you could ever look this beautiful.

Stopping yourself from almost crying at the thought of getting married this way. This was not how you’d imagined it. You were gonna marry someone you love, someone you could spend the rest of your life with, someone that made you happy and made you feel complete.

This, this was not it.

You clear your throat before recollecting yourself, thanking the team for their hard work while you sit in Namjoon’s room quietly.

You hear a knock on the door and Jun enters the room, “The ceremony won’t begin in a few, boss said you could arrange your bouquet if you’d like?”

“I’d love that.” You said, getting up as he escorted you out.

He seemed to look better today than yesterday, he still had an awful bruise on his face but you could tell it was healing quickly.

He walked you out and you could see that the ceremony was being held in the garden, you could tell by the nice subtle decorations and the beautifully flower-decorated gazebo right in the middle of the garden.

“You look pretty by the way.” He said, holding a pair of floral scissors in his right hand. Understanding that you won’t be the one cutting the flowers for your bouquet, only arranging them.

“Thank you Jun,” you said, weakly smiling at him while walking towards the white roses.

“Will you cut these for me?” You said pointing at the white roses, he cut a few of them and a few others you had told him to cut.

Holding a bunch of flowers in your hand, you return to your room, but before Jun could leave you all alone again, “Remember the plan.” He said, giving you a sad smile, as he slowly and carefully closed the door.

You arrange the flowers into a pretty yet elegant bouquet. Satisfied by how it turned out, you get interrupted by one of Namjoon’s men knocking on the door, shouting from the other side of the door that it’s time.

You take a last glance at yourself in the mirror as you take a slow deep breath, putting the veil over your face. You hold the flowers in both of your hands in front of you.

You had to remember this was a fake wedding, something to lure your father into Namjoon’s palm. But even then, what will he do to him? Kill him and then let you go after all of this is over? You’d doubt that.

You try not to think about it anymore to avoid further stress, the last thing you do before walking out is put a fake smile on your face.

You hear music playing and you understand that’s your cue, the doors open and you could see Namjoon standing in the gazebo. If it wasn’t for your fucked up situation. This would have seemed like a marvelous wedding ceremony, but it could not be the furthest thing from that.

Noticing some of Namjoon’s mobsters guarding the place making it almost impossible to run away, but you don’t see Jun.

You walk out, focusing on looking at him. He stood there with his hand on top of the left one, smiling, almost looking pleased with himself.

Sick fuck you thought.

As you got closer and closer, your heart started to beat faster and faster. Swallowing your fear, you now stand right in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said, looking at you with lustful eyes.

And just like that, you hear loud gunshots. With everyone’s attention on the sound and the bodyguards running towards it.

You start running like hell.

Running to the backyard, panicking, you take out the car keys and press to unlock. Finding the car and running towards it, you open the passenger car door only to find a person falling down the seat.

It was Jun.

With a bullet through his head.

The sight had you nearly passed out, but before you could react, someone harshly grabbed your arm.

“Let go!” You yelled, trying to set free but not being able to.

He didn’t respond as he pulled you towards the garden.

“I said let go!” You yelled once again pulling away from him, only this time harder.

He lets go and leaves you alone, that is until you hear a sigh so you turn around and look up and see Namjoon staring at you with a disappointed look on his face.

Now you were fucked.

“What did I ask you not to do?” He calmly said, which scared you evermore.

“Don't try to escape.” You mumbled, trying to look away from him.

He walked closer to you as you flinched back a little, he grabbed your face to look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, but you did it anyway.”

“Baby, do you know what happens to people who disobey and betray me?” He asked, a slight smile forming on the corner of his lips.

“No.” You whispered, scared of what he might tell you.

“Come, let me show you instead.” He quickly said, tightly grabbing your arm in an almost brushing grip, pulling you towards the yellow rose bushes.

“You were right, your daddy does care about you huh baby?” He said, still pulling you as you struggled to keep up.

“Babygirl, I want you to say hello to my father.” He said, pushing you down on the soil in front of the first yellow rose bush.

“My mother.” He said, pulling you to the next one rose bush.

“And lastly,” he paused.

“Your father.”

No, no no no it couldn't be.

“Do you understand now not to test me baby?” He asked crouching down to your level as he gently held your face in his palms.

Not knowing what to say or how to react, you stare at him in shock, nodding fastly up and down.

Your dress is now completely ruined as your hands and feet sink deep into the dirt, you tightly grip the soil under you in your hands, feeling how it gets under your nails.

He looked at you in adoration as he tucked your messy hair behind your ear, taking a closer look at your face before gently pulling you in, placing his warm lips against yours, giving you a peek.

He slowly pulled away, using his thumb to wipe away the single tear that slid down your flustered dirty cheek.

“Until death do us apart.”

———

*4 years ago*

Namjoon had a heated discussion with your father. Your father wanted to quit doing his dirty work and of course, when you’re in this life you can’t get out of it, not alive at least.

“I don’t think that’s smart of you to do,” Namjoon said, getting up from his leather office chair.

“I know you don’t care about your low life but you surely care about your daughters.” Namjoon continued, threatening your father.

“Leave her out of this!” Your father yelled, pulling a gun out of his pocket and aiming it at Namjoon.

Namjoon smirked, almost laughing at the pathetic man in front of him.

“There’s no need for that,” Namjoon said, looking at the gun, but your father stood in the same position until he was knocked out by someone behind him.

“Torture him until he comes to his senses,” Namjoon ordered, looking at the passed-out man in pity and disgust.

“Yes, boss.”

That night, Namjoon decided to visit the precious daughter that he had been curious about for a while now.

What made you so special that your father would give up his life for you? That kind of thinking didn’t make sense to Namjoon.

He parked right outside your flower shop, watching you from a distance as he studied your features.

You were rather beautiful, an eternal kind of beauty, alluring and almost delicate looking.

He watched you as you finished up the last bouquet for a customer.

A bouquet of yellow roses.

He watched you as you stretched your arms up and yawned, he couldn’t help but giggle as he thought of how cute and silly you looked while doing it.

Shocked by the sound he made, he quickly cleared his throat and looked around as if someone had seen or heard him.

Why did you have this kind of effect on him? He didn’t understand but it made him confused, he started to hate the idea of you being gone so he decided to do something he’d never thought he would do: let you live.

Before he drove off, sparing your life. He looked up at the light from the waxing crescent moon.

Despite it being only a crescent moon, it looked very bright, almost white. Glowing, glimmering, and shimmering. It nearly looked magical as he felt like he was enchanted by it.

He looked at you again as you flipped the sign from open to closed.

He carefully watched your moves as you walked through a door, disappearing into a room filled with beautiful flowers surrounding your beautiful self.

You could say at that moment…

He was moonstruck by you.

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[explicit-tae]

Can you give a brief description of namjoons wife escaping and why? Cruel intentions

I was going to make it brief but - then I decided to make a full length fic about it from start 🥲 so hopefully this isn't too much 🤣 Cruel Intentions (part 6) coming soon 🥹

Cruel Intentions: Organized Crime

Namjoon finds you captivating - but for the sake of his pride, ego and heart, he sure as hell hopes you are who you say you are. However, you aren't a foreigner coming from the States to Korea as a stripper - you're an Undercover detective coming to take down multiple Mafia families in Korea by all means neccessary; Bangtan being your top priority.

Genre: smut, dark, Mafia! Namjoon x Undercover! Reader

Warning: oral sex, hand job, grinding, dirty talk, blood, mentions of death, public sex, creampie, riding, ass slapping, dark themes, violence, hair pulling, choking,

Word Count: 13, 867

"Who's she?" Namjoon questions, eyes watching you - a foreigner no doubt. He leans forward as he watches you from the V.I.P area of the club - an underground club ran by Bangtan in which only those with large pockets could attend.

Jimin picks up the glass of champagne. "Like her?" Jimin smirks. He knows you would be a hit amongst the men in the club. While the woman that worked either in the clubs as dancers and bottle girls or the Brothel as escorts, there was a level of shyness they had. You, however, came from the West - along with a handle of other women.

"She's confident." Namjoon responds, eyes never leaving the way you danced. Confident and popular - having a foreigner in their club only meant you'd be the eye-candy for a bit to feed off whatever fetish these men had. You stood tall and looked them in the eye - an act that women don't often do. "Where is she from?"

"The states." Jimin takes another sip of his champagne. "Recruited from our port in New York. She prefers not to work in the Brothel and instead out in the club area." Jimin glances at Namjoon, his Hyung not blinking as he watches you closely. "And she's good. The amount of money she's made in a few hours is more than what Ari made this month."

Good was an understatement - you were amazing, and it appears as though you were doing the bare minimum and not giving it your all in the slightest. You were a fresh face - and a foreigner at that, it's guaranteed you'll be the talk of the club. If you kept this hype around you, you'd grow to be successful in Bangtan and could probably even work your way up.

"I think you're drooling." Jimin teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. He knows Namjoon's type and it was you - the mysterious foreigner who had the confidence of a leader and beauty capable of taking down any man.

"I think you're seeing things with that big imagination of yours." Namjoon retorts, yet his eyes never leave yours. You're swaying your body quite seductively, lingerie hugging your skin tightly. Your hands run up your hips to your stomach and chest, a seductive smile on your lips.

"You haven't blinked once, Hyung." Jimin isn't judging. Hell, you were a sight to behold. It's a shame that you weren't going to the Brothel - he was sure a night with you would be worth it. However, he was also sure - positive even - that Namjoon had his eyes on you (literally) and you'd be off limits.

"What do we know about this girl?"

"Y/L Y/N." Jimin responds. "Did a background check on her. Estrange from her family and moved from New York." Jimin says as if reading from a physical form of your background check. "When she interviewed with Hobi and I, she said she just wanted to get away from her life at the States and start fresh."

"In South Korea?" Namjoon furrows a brow. You were now on your knees, back arching as you danced. "A long way to get away."

"We don't ask a thousand and one questions while interviewing, Hyung." Jimin rolls his eyes. "She wasn't shady in the slighest and she's sex on legs. She's making us and herself money."

For the first time in minutes, Namjoon looks away from you. He glances at the door where Ji-Yong stands. "Bring her to me." he commands. He lifts the bottle of vodka from the table across from him and pours himself a shot.

"Want alone time?" Jimin questions. "And condoms?"

"I'm not fucking her. She isn't working in the Brothel."

"When has that stopped any of us?" Jimin scoffs. "You're 20 and I can name a handful of women you've had already."

Namjoon sighs and gives Jimin a pointed look. The younger man just shrugs and smirks, sauntering towards the door. As he opens it, Ji-Yong and you are climbing the stairs to enter. "Your girl has arrived." Jimin winks. "I'll let the others know to stay away from her."

Namjoon doesn't respond. Ji-Yong allows you to enter first before bowing to Jimin and Namjoon. You stand at the doorway, unsure what there is to do here with the unknown man.

"Close the door, Ji-Yong." Namjoon commands, and soon it's just the two of you in the V.I.P room. It's a large sitting area that overlooks the entire club, mainly the large dance floor and stage. It has its own private bar and a large couch that lines the walls. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" you respond quickly. Namjoon takes notice that you aren't nervous - you don't lower your eyes or cower at him. He was a tall man, yes, but you've met taller. He was wealthy and you understood he was one of the bosses by the way he dressed and spoke to those around him.

"Sit with me." Namjoon says. It wasn't a question - it was a demand. He sits on the leather couch, legs spread open. He pours two shot glasses - one for him and another for you. He takes hold of the shot glass that has less liquor in it, not going unnoticed by you.

"Okay." you nod. You stroll towards him, heels clicking against the floor. Namjoon doesn't hide his wandering eyes. Your hips sway as you walk, and he ponders if this is how you naturally walk or was it to appease him.

Namjoon is taken aback when you sit in his lap, directly on his crotch. Both of your thighs are on either side of him. You tilt your head, eyes never breaking away from his. "Aren't you going to talk?" you hum. Your fingers trail the hem of his expensive suit.

"You're bold." Namjoon states. He doesn't hesitate in touching you - you're in his lap after all and seemingly made the first move. His hands place themselves directly on your hips.

"Do you want me to get up?"

"No." Namjoon answers, possibly too quick. Yet, you knew his answer before he responded. If he wanted you to move he would've moved you already. "What brings you to Korea?"

"I always wanted to come." you shrug. "See what Korea has to offer. Experience a new culture and eat amazing food."

"How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks." you respond. You trail a finger onto his chin. "You have such pretty lips."

Namjoon clenches your hips. No one's ever complimented his lips before. He was complimented for his looks, sure, and his height and body. Yet, his lips were never one.

"As do you." Namjoon murmurs, his eyes darting to your lips. He notices they're shimmering and glossy.

"Really?" you smile. "Do you want to taste them?"

Namjoon can feel his throat tightening. He was never the one to be tongue tied. He was young yet he had his fair share of women - none of them acted like you. "Which ones?" he retorts, licking his lips.

"Whichever ones you want." you respond without a thought. You were good - and surely not new to this.

Namjoon chuckles. He shifts beneath you, grasping your hips to make sure you don't fall off of him as he leans back into the couch. His eyes never leave yours. "You've danced in a club before?"

You shake your head.

"Are you lying to me, baby?" Namjoon furrows a brow. "You were a natural out there and made more money than my best girls did."

"Maybe I'm just better." you shrug your shoulders.

"How much better?"

"I can show you." you lean closer to his face. "If you promise to show me what you do with your pretty little lips."

"Do you know who I am?" Namjoon's voice deepened to a whisper. "You work under Bangtan which means you work under me."

"I know. Kim Namjoon." you whisper back, lips centimeters from his. "That's rude of me. Do you prefer RM?"

Namjoon would've preferred RM from his men - Namjoon from those close to him. Yet, the way you said his name sends goosebumps upon his arms.

"How do you know my name?"

"You aren't the only one who's done research, baby." It was a risk, yet you were known to take them. Your teeth clasp down on Namjoon's bottom lip and you lightly tugged on it. "I've done my own research on you and Bangtan."

"Is that so?" Namjoon is amused. Whatever a foreigner could know of Bangtan was less to none.

"Mhm." you hum. "I know who stole your product."

Namjoon stiffens. His eyes narrows into yours - eyes dancing with mischief. Quickly, Namjoon wraps a hand around your throat and begins to squeeze. "Who are you?" he demands.

You do the same to him, manicured nails digging into his flesh. With all your might, you push him back enough for his grip on your throat to loosen. "If you want to play rough, you'll have to take me to dinner first." you joke, smirk forming onto your lips. "I'll let you know everything I know...for a price."

"How do I know you aren't lying to me?" Namjoon spats. He's ashamed of himself for harden cock beneath his suit pants.

"How else will I know about your product being misplaced?" you tilt your head. "Or maybe...I know a certain rival Mafia family has set you up. How else would the police suddenly come to your port, steal your product but not arrest those involved?"

Namjoon scans your reaction, taking in your words.

A month prior, one of Bangtans ports was infiltrated by the police. They took nearly all their product before a fight broke out. However, no arrests were made and Bangtan was down severeal million won by the incident.

"I won't ask you again. Who are you?" Namjoon needs to know just who you are and what you wanted.

"I told you who I am. Y/N. A stripper that works in this illegal strip club you're running." you giggle - Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek at your words. "But enough about me. Let's talk about what I want from...you."

"Money?" Namjoon snickers. "How much?"

"You must think I'm such a whore." you sigh. You lean down and rest your forehead against his shoulder. "But no, I don't want money. I want something more."

Namjoon feels your finger place with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"I want you." you admit. "I want you completely. All to myself."

"What do you mean?"

You lift from his shoulder and look into his eyes. "You know what I mean. Don't be daft." you smirk at his, glossy lips appearing inviting that Namjoon just wants to entangle you in a kiss - and have his cock between those same lips. "I want to be your girl."

That's not what Namjoon expects to hear from you. "My girl?"

You nod. "You know. Your girlfriend." You place a finger on his lips. "Someone you take on dates, introduce to your friends and family." you lean to his ear. "Someone you can fuck as much as you want."

Namjoon shudders when he feels your tongue lick along his ear.

"And in exchange - I can be useful to you."

It takes Namjoon a few moments to respond. He needed a way to recollect himself before he did. "How could you be useful to me?"

"I've been in Korea for a short time yet I already know about your issues." you kiss his nose, not caring about the consequences. "Imagine what else I know and could find out."

"What do you get out of this?"

You shrug. "Well, for starters, I get to have you." you respond. "You'll have my loyalty to you and Bangtan. But, I'm not the one to sit around and wait for a man.”

Namjoon furrows a brow.

"I don't want to sit around all day and wait for you to come home and entertain me." you scoff.

"Who says I'll even consider taking you home with me? As my girl at that?"

You give him a look. Then, you're laughing. "Because, baby. If you didn't want me..." you begin to grind in his lap slowly - dangerously slow. "...you wouldn't be hard right now."

You're good. You had him right where you wanted him and Namjoon is embarrassed. He was a man, not an adolescent boy who was with a woman for the first time.

"Like I said. I'm not waiting on you. I want to work directly next to you."

Namjoon snickers. "No woman does that."

"Then make an exception." you retort. "I'm not going to be just any woman. I'm going to be your woman."

"You sound sure of yourself."

"That's because I am sure of myself." you peck his cheek before standing up, pushing his arms off of you. "A powerful man would be nothing without a woman by his side."

Namjoon widen his eyes.

Hoseok gasps.

Taehyung furrows his brows.

Jimin hides back a laugh.

"What's his name?" you hiss, bringing your first down against the officer's cheek - a dirty cop who was in charge of infiltrating Bangtan's port.

"I-I don't-"

You bring down another first against his cheek. The man is tied up and crying now, nose bloody and lips busted. "Don't play games with me."

It took a week for Namjoon to agree to your terms. But, it wasn't in vain. Before he could ever agree to you being his woman and being a crucial part of Bangtan, he had to investigate just who you were. You were an intelligent woman who not only knew her worth, but understood (in a way) the life Bangtan lived.

Seokjin was the one who had done a thorough background check outside of Jimin's - you were clean. There wasn't even as much as a speeding ticket under your name. You lived in New York prior to coming to Korea - he hadn't asked you why Korea out of all of the world, and it couldn't have been what you stated while on his lap.

After your background check was cleared, Namjoon had spoken to his older Hyungs - Yoongi questioned your motive while Jin was more lenient. The ultimate decision was Namjoons - did he want you to be his woman? He was young and didn't necessarily need a woman by his side as of yet, but - you fascinated his mind constantly. Every night he visited the club to see you and each night you sat in his lap and made time stand still.

"They paid 200,000,000 won for us to infiltrate the port and steal the drugs!" the man whimpers. His eyes are wide - shocked as the men behind you. You were a woman dealing in men's business, a rare site to behold.

"Give me a name." you grasped his hair and tugged it. The man falls onto the ground and hisses.

"She's strong." Hoseok murmurs. You were now dragging the police officer across the floor, knocking him into whatever you could to get information out of him.

"And hot." Jimin shakes his head. "A shame you got her before I did." Jimin places a hand on Namjoon's shoulders.

"200,000,000 won to be a mailman?" you pout your lips. "If you won't talk I'll have to go harder with you." you kick the man so now his back was on the ground, eyes staring up at you.

You release a gun from your hip. Namjoon steps forward. "Where'd-"

"I got it from your car. It was left unattended." you answer before he can ask. "Don't worry - I know how to use it." you send him a quick wink before turning back to the quivering police officer.

"She's turning me on not going to lie." Jimin murmurs and all Namjoon does is glare.

You turn off the safety of the gun and place your hands on the trigger.

"SVT!" the police officer screeches. "I-I don't know who exactly, but I know it's SVT."

"Typical for a man to lie to me." you shoot the gun directly above his head. The man's crying now, but you don't care. "Give me a name, sweet cheeks."

"Woozi." the officer screeches, spitting blood beside him. "His name was Woozi. Blond hair, pale skin."

"We know who he is." Taehyung scoffs. "Why would they steal our product when they have their own?"

"Our product is pure." Namjoon responds. "No doubt they're selling and gaining money from our shit." he hisses.

You turn around to face them. "Is that all the information you needed?"

Namjoon nods.

Jimin smiles at you. "You're such a natural." he compliments. "How are you so-"

"Jimin." Namjoon hisses.

"Don't start, hyung. I'm not going to steal her away from you."

You smile at Jimin in return. Then, you aim the gun back at the officer. He widens his eyes and shakes his head.

You fire the gun at his knee. He screeches at the sudden impact of the gun. "No one likes a dirty cop." you pout, feigning sadness. "Now, where's that money they gave you? I know it was cash. If they're bold enough to steal product from Bangtan then they have some sense to not leave footprints to track."

You don't wait for the officer to respond. You begin opening every drawer you could until you see beneath his desk was a black leather bag. Opening it, you smile. "Jackpot." you sing-song, holding it up for Namjoon and the rest.

"Wow." Hoseok is in awe at you. You were ruthless - attractively so.

"Let's go." you hand the bag to Jimin and wrap an arm around Namjoon. "I want to try this new restaurant in Seoul!" you beam up at him and Namjoon could do nothing but nod.

Namjoon opens the back door to the black SUV, allowing you to enter first before he does. He nods his head to the driver before he presses a button on the side of the seats. A privacy window closes and now it's just you and Namjoon as the driver drives back to their destination.

"How are you familiar with guns?" Namjoon asks you. The way you held his gun with such confidence - it wasn't your first time. He was certain you've done this many times before.

"Gun laws aren't as strict in America." you scoff at him. "I'm surprised you have this amount of guns. Where do they come from?"

Namjoon doesn't respond. He eyes you, eyes squinting at you. You only tilt your head at him, a small smile forming onto your lips. "You don't trust me." you state matter-of-factly.

"You come into my life, demand to be my girl then assault a dirty cop." Namjoon snickers - it all sounded just as crazy as it was when he witnessed it. "I'm having a diffult time believing you are who you say you are."

"Understandable." you shrug. "Eventually you'll see that I'm on your side."

"Is that so?" Namjoon furrows a brow. He leans back into the seat and spreads his legs. "How do I know this for sure?"

You bite your lips, an act that doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. You placed the gun that was on your hip besides you. You swing your legs around his to sit upon his lap. You place both hands on his cheeks. "Such pretty lips." you smirk - you're teasing him, you know it makes him flustered. "Who else is going to help you bring down SVT and other families who are going to threaten Bangtan?"

Namjoon is amused, so he humors you. "And you know how to take down Mafia families?" he chuckles.

You nod - if only he truly knew who you were. You've taken down many families back in the States while you were still in the Police Academy - it was risky being a rookie, yet you were trusted enough to do the job. You and a handful of other newly graduated from the Police Academy were set out to take out Mafia families in other countries within the organized crime district - South Korea being one of them.

Your mission being undercover could take years, especially when it involved families such as Bangtan that've been around for decades. Their connections spanded outside of Korea and worked throughout Asia, Europe and now in the west - New York being one of the main ports.

Now, you didn't choose to be a stripper - but it brought you a direct invite into Bangtan. You refused to work in the Brothel to get what you needed, but you weren't opposed to sleeping with any of them. You had a job to do and in the end, these men were just that - men. Sex ruled over the male species and you were going to use it to your advantage if needed be.

"Why are you adamant on helping?" Namjoon adjusts you on his lap. He leans into your neck - you smelt of bourbon and sandalwood and it was becoming his all time favorite scent. "Any woman from the club or brothel would be happy with being by my side and outside of the sex business."

"I am happy. Grateful even." you murmur. You kiss his forehead lightly, glossy lips leaving your mark. "But like I said, baby, I'm not one to sit around and wait on a man. It's obvious you need a womans touch."

Namjoon nods his head with a throaty chuckle. "A woman's touch." he leaves a trail of kisses upon your neck. "What does this woman think Bangtan should do?"

"Depends. Does Bangtan have a leader?" Though you're undercover, you still have a job to do. Bangtan is a priority to take down - but the other families would be easier to ruin. They weren't as powerful as Bangtan - their name meaning bulletproof is evident enough of such.

"We have branches." Namjoon swallows - you're grinding in his lap as he speaks. "Our fathers have handed down each branch that was given to them to the next generation - me and my brothers."

"Oh?" your fingers trace his exposed collar bone.

"Uh huh." Namjoon bites the inside of his mouth. Large hands catch your hips to steady as you grind upon him. "No one is higher than the other. Think of the 7 of us as the Main Branch that holds the family together. Those who work with us also have their own families involved, but they'll never be considered the main branch. Makes sense?"

"In a way." you quickened your pace - he was where you needed him to be, talking your ear off. "What does each brother do?"

"You have a lot of questions." Namjoon moans - his cheeks redden.

"I'm helping, remember?" you place a kiss on the corner of his lips. "The last thing rivals expect is a woman taking them down."

Namjoon stops your grinding. You lean back to look into his eyes - they're nearly unreadable. But there is a glint - lust, sure, yet he doesn't fully trust your judgment. You don't blame him, it took you a while to trust people, as well. However, the information you had of Bangtan and the main family was that Namjoon's intelligence exceeded those you worked alongside that were much older than he was. Gaining his trust accessible easily, but you were stubborn and not prone to giving up.

"Hm." you knit your brows. You reach into your back pocket and took out your lipgloss - the same lipgloss that weakens Namjoon's state of mind whenever you wear it.

Namjoon doesn't tear his eyes away when you gloss your lips with the lipgloss and then pucker them up. "Do you want to see my lips wrapped around your cock?"

Namjoon coughs, cheeks a bright red. "W-What?"

You giggle cutesy - there wasn't anything you weren't willing to do to get the job done. As long as you manage to take down families outside of Bangtan to gain the trust of Namjoon and his family, you'd have to use what a man could never turn down. Sex.

"How about we play a little game?"

The backseat of the mercedes was fairly large. You could slide off of Namjoon's lap easily and go between his legs. Your hands tap his belt buckle playfully, waiting for Namjoon to get the hint.

"I'll suck your cock so good that you'll cum for me. On my face or down my throat." you wanted to laugh at the dumb look placed on Namjoon's face. "But, you have to talk and tell me everything I want to know. If you don't then you won't cum."

Namjoon gulps. You're tugging at his belt buckle, not taking anything less than his agreement.

Namjoon was big - no, huge. It surprises you how hard he is and you take a deep breath. The things you do for justice.

Namjoon gasps when you wrap your lips around his tip, tongue swirling in circles. "Talk." you say against his tip, a trail of saliva sliding down his length.

"Jin-hyung...deals with weaponry." he stutters out, closing his eyes. If he was going to speak, he couldn't watch you in action. It's enough for him that you're already doing it plus to hear your slurping and gags was a bonus. "He smuggles them from outside the country and - shit..."

You bring him entirely into your mouth, throat aching yet you had a job to do.

"Yoongi-hyung is known mainly as a hacker. He's taught a few things t-to Tae but..." he clenches his fists. "You're sucking it so good, baby."

Your hand slaps his bare thighs and Namjoon jumps. "S-Sorry." he murmurs. "Hyung hacks into Government programs all around the world. We use what we need for blackmail or eve theft."

Namjoon was a fool in lust, telling you everything you needed to convict them when the time came - all you needed was a little more evidence.

"Hoseok is more hands on. He recruits people - more assassins and snipers as back up. He himself even gets involved if he needs to but," Namjoon takes a deep breath. Your now sucking the tip of his cock while stroking the length. "we try not to get our hands dirty."

So they let their men do most of the dirty work - smart, you'd admit.

"Jimin handles most of our businesses. The clubs and Brothels and he recruited the girls." Namjoon graps your hair. "You have to slow down or I'm gonna cum."

"Not until you tell me everything." you retort, slapping his tip against your tongue. You can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum.

"Jimin uses the girls sometimes to get information from our targets. Or he does so himself...he's...known as Himeros. It's guaranteed he can find anything out if needed be."

Jimin appeared as such - a sweet looking boy with a hint of sex appeal. You were off limits now being known as Namjoon's girl - yet you desire to see Jimin in full action.

"Taehyung does light hacking and trafficking. He's also the eyes and ears of Bangtan."

"Like a spy?" you lick your tongue on the side of his cock and Namjoon hisses and nod.

"Y-Yes. Like a spy." he stutters. "He deals with interrogational torture. He will get anything out of anyone. He also trafficks art pieces."

That would explain a series of highly expensive one of a kind art pieces have been reported stolen.

"Jungkook is just coming into the business. He's still a kid, yet he deals with Narcotics and a hefty amount of drugs. Everything is pure - it's what Bangtan is known for."

You conitnued to suck - he deserved to cum, you supposed, for giving you the information needed.

Namjoon closes his eyes once more, fingers tightening its grasp into your hair. You were going at such an alarming speed that hew as sure he was going to cum any second now if you didn't slow down.

"He's still learning after the death of his father, but he's golden." You were unsure of what Namjoon meant by golden, but maybe Jungkook was just a fast learner.

"What about you and I?" you hum. "What would we be doing?"

Namjoon catches the way you mention the both of you. He pushes his head back and twitches. He cums right into your mouth - so much so that you struggle to swallow and a some drips out.

Namjoon is catching his breath when he hears you cough. He pokes one eye open to see you wiping your lips.

"Shit." Namjoon curses. He looks around the backseat for anything he can use to give you, but finds nothing. He takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes your lips. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." you assure. You rest your head against his knee. "So tell me. What would you and I be doing?"

"A little bit of it all. Heists and such of that sort."

"Heists." you hum. "Do you guys rob banks?"

"We rob whatever we feel like robbing. It's something we began doing as a side job. It isn't easy in the slightest - but we always get the job done."

You nod your head. You had enough information for now. "Are we almost to Seoul?"

"We are in Seoul now. But," Namjoon places stray hair behind your ear. "If we're going to be together. You'll have to meet the rest of the family."

"All there is missing is...Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook?"

Namjoon nods. "True. But, we'll start with my mother first."

You frown. "Don't you think that's...too soon?"

Namjoon furrows a brow. "Nothing is too soon. Besides," he smirks down at you. "you already managed to find out valuable information and made me cum all in one hour."

You've never been nervous as you were now. You didn't get nervous - you were known to excel in anything you did. Always the top of your classes in school and remained on top all the way until after you graduated the Police Academy.

However, you also never had a boyfriend. Namjoon was your boyfriend. It felt weird calling him this. To you, this was a job and it all was fake.

However, to Namjoon, it wasn't. You've gained a part of his trust that no woman has as of yet. You proved yourself useful to him by discovering information on their missing product. Not only that, but you weren't afraid of getting your hands dirty. Witnessing you go hard on a man like that turns him on and also makes him proud to say that you were his girl.

Never having a boyfriend meant you never had the experience in meeting their parents - especially their mothers. You had a few friends in your time and all they spoke of was of how their partners mothers hated them, being emotionally far too attached to their sons to not be considered emotional incest. You steer cleared from dating and only rather hooks ups here and there to satiate you when your hands or toys couldn't.

So to say you're unprepared and nervous was an understatement.

Namjoon brings you into the home that belongs to his mother. It's cozy, having a warm feeling upon entering. You catch pictures littering the walls of Namjoon throughout the years and even some familiar faces of Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung. The other boys you assumed were Jungkook, Yoongi and Seokjin.

There's soft humming coming from where you assumed was the kitchen. You follow Namjoon, his hands tangled in yours as he brings you to said kitchen. There's a woman who's back is turned, hair cut into a bob and she's currently washing the dishes. There's a pot on the stove boiling and you conclude that she must have known Namjoon was coming.

"Eomma!" Namjoon calls. He lets go of your hand and gives you a look. He then goes to his mother and gives her a tight hug.

You sighed. He had a good relationship with her. The way she wraps him in a tight embrace is possibly the fact that he hasn't seen her in a while.

Her eyes meet yours and you could feel the tension change. Her smile slowly fades as she looks towards you. She glances at Namjoon and murmurs something in his ear.

"This is Y/N, eomma." He nods your way. He gently grabs her wrist and brings her closer to you. "She's my girlfriend."

Girlfriend felt weird coming from his own lips. He doesn't recall ever having a girlfriend - or a girl that he brought home to his mother. He was waiting for whenever he had the chance to meet a woman that was involved enough in his world - and now he has.

You quickly bow when she turns back to you. Americans and Koreans had different cultures and you could try to be respectful while you were in her presence.

"Eomma," Namjoon murmurs. "Why don't you make Y/N and yourself some tea? I have to make a phone call." he suggests and you're mentally screaming at him to not leave you.

When Namjoon leaves the kitchen, his mother turns away from you. She starts the tea just as her son asks and all the while you take a seat at the island table. You inhale, unsure what else to do but wait for Namjoon to return.

When Namjoon's mother turns back around, she places two cups of tea in front of you. Again, her lips curl to the side, but it appears more like a grimance than an actual smile. Yet, you can't blame her - you're a stranger in her home that her son claims to be his girlfriend. Men like Namjoon don't regular bring girls home to their mothers unless they're sure said girls are who they're serious about.

You and Namjoon weren't serious - yet. You're unsure how long you'd be undercover, maybe a year if you're lucky. Taking down Mafia families weren't easy, yet if you used Bangtan to your advantage - it could be as easy as A.B.C.

Namjoon's mother gently pushes the tea towards you. You grab it into your hands, nodding your thanks to her. You take a sip after blowing it. It was surprisingly tasty; enough amount of sugar yet not too sweet. It had a fruit-like taste. You weren't much of a tea drinker to begin with but whatever this was had surprised you.

Namjoon's mother holds out her hands once you drink the rest of the tea. You're unsure what she wants, but her eyes are cast down to your hands. You place a palm into her hands and she immediately begins to touch it, tracing the lines.

"Eomma." Namjoon's voice breaks the two of you out of the trance. "You aren't a palm reader."

Namjoon leans to her level as she murmurs something.

"Is everything...okay?" you ask. She has yet to let go of your palm nor has she spoke actual words to you.

"Yes." Namjoon chuckles, tint on his cheeks. "She thinks she can read palms. Sorry-"

"It's okay." you shake your head. "W-What does my palm say...?" You weren't one to believe in such things, but it doesn't hurt to try.

Namjoon's mom whispers into his ear again and now Namjoon is shaking his head. "Eomma..."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Namjoon nods. "She, uh...says your life won't be easy as of yet." You gulp at his words. Your palm begins to sweat and you can feel Namjoon's mother's dark eyes on you.

Namjoon sighs when his mother takes his own hands in her own. She glances between both of your palms.

"What's she-"

"She's reading our marriage line now." Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Eomma..."

Namjoon's mother drops your hands and goes to speak to her son once more. You wipe your palms - not sweaty because of the weird palm reading of your future - against your pants.

"She says..." Namjoon turns to you. "...that we'll have a successful marriage."

You laugh dryly. You didn't want to be rude to his mother, but there was no way in hell you were marrying this man. She was correct with stating that your life won't be easy. You were beyond fucked if Namjoon or anyone found out who you truly were - but the Government had made sure to seal every and all records of you prior to leaving the county. Now you were just Y/L Y/N that resided in South Korea.

The dinner with Namjoon's mother was eventful. She acknowledged you more, but still didn't speak with you. You're unsure of what her voice sounds like because she only spoke in hushed tones. Still, the food she made was delicious and what you considered a traditional Korean cuisine.

Namjoon had communicated between his mother and you, making sure to inform her the way you handled the dirty cops. That tells you that she is well aware of her son and what he does - but it wasn't shocking. Bangtan was functioning for decades before Namjoon took his father's place. She married straight into Bangtan so if there was anyone that knew more about Bangtan than Namjoon would have to be his mother.

Leaving a few hours later is a sigh of relief. You can say that Namjoon was a different man around his mother. He never touched you intimately and seemingly became a different man - a slightly clumpsie dork so to say. If you'd met this Namjoon before, you'd be positive that this wasn't the same man that belonged to Bangtan.

"You'll have to move in with me." Namjoon states as the two of you stroll through the door of your apartment. "If you're going to be my..."

"Your girlfriend?" you scoff. "And why? I'm comfortable here." The apartment was small, but cozy. You weren't much of a cook so the kitchen was a good size for easy dishes an you had a washer and dryer in unit which made it even better in your eyes. 

"I don't doubt you aren't." Namjoon glances around. "But, you've made your presence known to the cop so we aren't sure just who he's told as of yet. You'd be safer with me surrounded by Bangtan."

You didn't think that far - he was right. An obvious con in living with him would be you wouldn't have any alone time to report back to your superior. It would be more difficult to have notes around that you'd need to keep everything together. You sigh lowly - you'd have to do everything digitally. Yoongi and Taehyung being hackers is where your paranoia lies - you'd have to get on Namjoon's good side so he would never have the chance to hack into your devices. 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Namjoon's voice startles your thoughts, but you don't show it. "I don't want to intrude on your space." you lie, stepping closer to him. "I already somewhat forced you into being your girl. I don't want to force my way into your home."

Namjoon wraps you into a loose embrace. "It's for your own safety." he murmurs. "You aren't forcing your way in. I want you there."

You nod your head. Mafia men get attached easily, you note.

"What do you think we should do, Noona?"

You've managed to move in with Namjoon and steer clear from his bad side. It was a bit draining having to be someone else 24/7 with no break for months, but you were always one step closer to your goal.

You met the rest of the main branch of Bangtan. Jungkook was just as young as Namjoon told you - but you weren't expecting to see a baby face teenager that should be in school barking orders around to men twice his age. He was cute and reminded you of one of the boys you trained alongside at the Police Academy. But just as he was cute, he was deadly and knew how to work his way around a gun of any size.

Yoongi was standoffish and never spoke too much to you, but you concluded that was his personality. Namjoon wasn't lying when he said Yoongi could hack into any system in a matter of minutes - he was someone you'd remain on good terms with for the sake of your operation.

Seokjin was kind when he met you, giving corny jokes that even made you laugh sometimes. He warmed up to you first upon arrival and would even visit Namjoon often to ensure you were alright - coming with his wife. You and her only spoke a few words to one another, the both of you not the same. She was what you weren't - a pillow princess, a term that shouldn't be insulting. While you are heavily involved in Bangtan, Seokjin's wife was not, nor was Yoongi's girlfriend. They decided it was easier to stay far away from business and enjoy the benefits that Bangtan gave.

"Ah, Jungkookie." you smile at Jungkook who gives you a shy one in return. "Have you eaten? You look hungry."

Maybe you were a bit sensitive when it came to Jungkook, but you blamed it on his appearance. He was only a teenager - a child of course - involved in a criminal organization where school didn't seem to be his first priority. You learned the death of his father a year prior, but the way Jungkook doesn't appear affected in the slightest has your mind wandering to just how the man died.

"Ah, I'm alright for now." Jungkook shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" you lean forward. "I have some lamb skewers left over. I know you and Yoongi love them."

Jungkook's eyes slightly widened at the thought of you giving him lamb skewers.

"No." Namjoon calls as he enters the sitting area you were seated. "If you keep feeding him he'll start to have a crush on you. He's already making heart eyes."

Jungkook glares at Namjoon but doesn't say anything. He just sits back into his seat and crosses his arms.

You shake your head. "Let's get back to the topic at hand then." you turn to a sulking Jungkook. "What do you mean what should you do?"

"Ah, noona, SVT wants to meet with us." Jungkook uncrosses his arms.

"You can call me by my name, Jungkook." you couldn't help but smile. For a boy surrounded by criminals daily, he was respectful. They all were, which was what surprised you the most about being in Bangtan.

"Hm. I like calling you noona." Jungkook glances away as if in deep thought.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. You were growing to like Jungkook more than you should. He was by no means jealous - Jungkook had a pure aura around him that made you always gush whenever around him. Not in a way in which he should be threatened by his dongsaeng, but you considered Jungkook to be like a yonger brother - always offering to feed the boy even when he just ate.

"Can we get back to the topic at hand?" Namjoon sighs. "SVT has asked for Bangtan for a meeting, yes."

"Why so sudden?" you furrow a brow. "We haven't told them about our knowledge in them stealing product, right?"

Jungkook shakes his head, but bites his lips. "There was a run in with them a few weeks back, but nothing major."

You turn your eyes to Namjoon.

"Nothing dire, only a verbal altercation then we went on our way." Namjoon shrugs.

"So they want to meet you all? Randomly? To discuss what?"

"We'll have to go and find out." Namjoon responds. He claps his hands towards Jungkook. "Get up, we have to head out soon."

"I want to come." you insist. You would finally get an insight on SVT to report back to your captain.

Namjoon shakes his head. "There'll be no women there. I don't want them to get the wrong idea."

"More the reason for me to come." you insist. "Stop acting like I'm nothing but eye-candy. I know my way around any type of weapon you own."

Namjoon knows this, and this is what he wants to avoid. He wasn't threatened by you - nor was anyone in Bangtan. They respected you greatly in the short amount of time they've known you. Jungkook always speaks highly of you whenever you aren't around and Jimin always teases him for having a strong partner by his side. However, not all men were as comfortable with having a woman in the front - especially one that could rival them.

"Please?" you cross your arms. "I'll sit in the car. I just wanna go."

"Okay." Namjoon caves, and when you smile up at him he couldn't help but return it.

"Simp." Jungkook murmurs and Namjoon throws him a glare.

"I knew listening to you would result in us getting killed." Hoseok hisses lowly to Jin who just shakes his head in return.

Jin had suggested that bringing guns to an event like this would cause nothing but a war - so they hadn't. Leaving the guns in the car was their first mistake and Hoseok ponders why none of them ever listened to Jin. They outnumbered SVT - 7 against 4. However, these 4 all had handguns pointed at them at this moment and each wore smugged looks.

"This is why you brought us here?" Namjoon asks, his eyes directly on Seung-cheol who held the gun straight at him. "We let you slide after stealing our product."

"Is money looking better for SVT?" Hoseok tilts his head. "I heard your own product was killing the customers. Are you planning on stealing more anytime soon?"

"It is about that time." Jungkook pipes up. "Is that why you wanted to meet with us? Steal more of our product becauses yours is shit?"

"Shut up!" Jeonghan hisses.

Your eyes watch from inside the car, windows tinted to hide you. You shake your head at the lack of common sense these men had - but luckily they had a woman on their side for the time being. The amount of firearms - especially military grade firearms - in the car would make an unexperienced person nervous.

"Bangtan basically owns the nation." Yoongi pipes in for the first time. He was growing bored of sitting in an abandoned parking lot. "Casinos, clubs, brothels, restaurants and more. We've been lenient when it comes to you vultures."

"Now it's only getting disrespectful." Jin continues. "What is it that SVT exactly wants?"

"Easy." Joshua shrugs his shoulders. "Take down the main branch and the problems go away. What Bangtan has will soon be ours."

Namjoon scoffs. "SVT doesn't have a plan...do they. Bangtan isn't just the main branch. We have eyes and ears all around - even outside of the east."

"Bangtan's worked for many years to get where we're at. We won't be taken down easily."

"You say that but..." Seung-cheol looks down at his gun pointed at the seven men. "...you can't use your fists in a gunfight."

A few shots rings out and hits Seung-cheol directly in the chest. He drops to the ground, gun dropping to the side. Joshua, Jeonghan and Hoshi all gasp and go to Seung-cheol's side.

Namjoon turns his head as he hears footsteps coming towards them.

You're holding the machine gun in your arms as you pass the seven men all eyeying you with wide eyes. You stop in the middle between Bangtan and SVT, eyes on the 3 men trying to stop the blood from rushing Seung-cheol's wound.

"W-Who is she?" Joshua murmurs, eyes scanning you holding a large machine gun. He's never seen a woman hold a gun in his life, let alone something so big.

"Bangtan's done negotiating with trash like SVT." you say aloud to them. "Now if it was up to me, you all would've been dead months ago when you stole our shit."

"Noona..." Jungkook calls, but his voice doesn't come above a whisper.

"Y/N." Namjoon steps closer to you. "You're going to start a war."

You turn to face Namjoon and the other 6 men. Their expressions are one of the same - all astonished by your sudden actions. You snort. What you witnessed back in the States only prepared you for moments like this. Your goal was to take down these families - no matter how you truly done it in the end.

"A war already started once they pulled their guns out on you." you say, blinking towards the 6 men. Your intention was to appear distraught by the thought of losing any of them.  

You turned back to 3 men hovering above the now dead man - Seung-cheol - and sighed. You pulled the trigger of the machine gun and managed to not lose control of it. Gasping, grunts and yells are heard throughout the sound of the machine gun. After a few moments, you stop - throwing the large firearm down. 4 members of the SVT are down -  multiple gunshot wounds littering their bodies. Blood is oozing from said wounds and staining the concrete. 

"Do any of you have a knife?" you turn around to ask and only Jungkook makes a move. He rummages through his pockets and pulls out two pocket knives. "Good, Kookie. Come with me, yeah?"

Jungkook nods, swallowing. He follows you towards the bodies. "What are we doing, noona?"

"G7 and SVT are current in a Gang war, right?" Jungkook nods, he recalls telling you a few days prior when he came over to see Namjoon. You'd made fixed him ice cream - 4 scoops with different amounts of sweet toppings to top it off for any information he can give you - and like all teenagers his age when he was bribed with something he liked, he sung like a canary. 

"Okay," you nod. You take one switch blade from his hands. "Cut off their thumbs. G7 is known for taking trophies from their victims."

Jungkook nods, doing as you're told. The sight was gruesome - especially watching from where the 6 men were standing. However, they weren't disgusted by you and Jungkook - if anything, they were proud? Satisfied? No one - besides their own men and themselves - had killed for them, especially not a woman. 

Once you cut the last thumb off, you open the jacket from one man - Hoshi - and carve a large 'G7' onto his chest. "That way when the rest of SVT comes, they don't suspect Bangtan. Come, Kookie."

You and Jungkook place the thumbs in a discarded plastic bags and make your way back to the other men. As you approach, Taehyung steps forward. "How do we keep Bangtan's name out of this?"

You sigh. You place the bag of thumbs in his hands and he's visibly disgusted. "Easy, Tae Tae," you smile. "First, we need to get rid of that evidence. "

Taehyung nods. 

"Then," you wrap an arm around Namjoon, placing your head against his chest. "we pretend we never came. Easy. It's only 4 members that's died."

"What do you mean?" Jimin questions. 

"I mean we go home and pretend we never came. Is there any evidence that any of you responded to SVT in their meeting? If not, then we should be in the clear." you exclaim. "In my eyes, they were waiting here for you 7...then G7 came and got what they wanted in this little war they're having." you shrug. "We'll never know for sure because we weren't here."

You look up at Namjoon whose eyes are already on you. You give him a small smile before kissing his lips, having to stand on your toes to do so. 

"I'm hungry." you moan into his lips. "Let's eat dinner. Together as a family."

You make your way back towards the car, 14 pairs of eyes watching you. When you close the door, Yoongi chuckles. "She's something else." 

"Noona's so cool." Jungkook clenches his fist in excitement. "You should really marry her, Hyung. She's perfect for the family."

Namjoon couldn't agree more. 

Jimin claps his hands loudly when the medium sized cake comes their way, sparklers buzzing loudly as the bottle girl places said cake onto your table. The table errupts in claps, laughter and cheers - all for you. 

When you suggested that dinner be served as a family, you were expecting a restaurant - not in one of the clubs Bangtan owned to eat bar food in the V.I.P lounge while music danced off the walls.

While you were undercover, you took full advantage of sightseeing and experiencing a different culture.

Namjoon had taken you to countless restaurants throughout and you never complained - mainly because he wasn't much of a cook. You two often went sightseeing and that's when you realized that Namjoon was more than what you know of him - he loved nature, always suggesting the two of you go out for walks and even bike rides. It felt weird - far too intimate, yet you understood that this was what you were expected to do as his girlfriend.

The bike rides and walks didn't stop there - he also enjoyed museums. He dressed casually, outside of the fitted dark suits and actually wore comfortable clothing. He insisted that the two of you take pictures together at each destination for memories - and you agreed, enjoying your time in Korea before you had to take down Bangtan. 

"Noona!" Jungkook claps his hands when the cake is set down in front of you. "This is a celebration! Drink up!"

"You better not be drinking." you called, squinting your eyes. "You're like 12."

"He's 16." Namjoon murmurs, placing a hand on your thigh. "He's done worse, trust me. A little alcohol won't hurt him."

"If Noona doesn't want me to drink then I won't." Jungkook declares and you offer a small grin. If you could pack Jungkook up and bring him home with you after your investigation you would. 

"There wasn't a need for a celebration." you insist, blowing out the sparkles. You didn't hesitate to cut the cake - you were ready to eat after all. 

"But there was." Jimin is first to pour a round of drinks. He raises his own glass. "You're truly the savage we never knew we needed in Bangtan."

The table agrees with Jimin's words. 

"You truly know your way around a gun." Yoongi compliments - one of the few times he actually spoke to you and for a second you could feel your heart swell. 

"To Y/N!" Jungkook lifts a glass filled with a dark red liquid. "It's cranberry juice, Noona." he insists with a cheeky grin. 

You raise your own shot glass and lick your lips. There's a few glasses clinking and each of you took the shots. Your throat burns and you shake your head slightly then sighed.

You did come to regret drinking. It would be unorthodox not to - they were celebrating because of you. To them, you were a woman that's putting her foot into their life and seemingly doing it better than them.

However, now you feel as though the room is spinning. You and the 7 men were no longer in the V.I.P lounge but deep within the crowd - lights flashing and loud music booming through the speakers.  The tables around you that held cups of half filled drinks are jumping along with the bass of the music. 

You feel hot and have long removed your shirt, only in your bra now. Your mind wasn't straight in the slightest and all you did know was that you were looking for Namjoon. You're unsure where he scurried off to after Jimin dragged you to the dance floor with him - and that was nearly an hour ago. Even now, you'd lost Jimin in the sea of people and you were ready to leave.

"Noona!" you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and turn you around. "Where's your shirt? Did someone touch you?"

You laugh, slapping Jungkook's chest lightly. "You...are touching me now." 

Okay, you were drunk. 

"Noona..." Jungkook shakes his head. "Let's take you to, Hyung."

You allow Jungkook to drag you deeper into the dance floor. He pushed people aside without caring the consequence or how rude it was. Seconds felt like hours when you get away from the dance floor. You're taken back into the V.I.P lounge with Jungkook, the sound of the music growing quiet. 

"You're so cute, Kookie." you sighed aloud. "Just like a little rabbit. Do you have a girlfriend yet?"

Jungkook's cheeks tint at your words. He closes the door behind him and glances behind you to his Hyungs. Hoseok was asleep on the loveseat, possibly just as drunk  - if not more - as you. Taehyung was nodding off on the ground below Hoseok and Yoongi and Jin were talking lowly to one another.

Namjoon's ears perk when he hears your voice. "Where's Jimin?" 

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 

"And where the hell is your shirt?" Namjoon hisses.

"Don't ignore me, Kookie." you sigh.

"No, noona. I don't have a girlfriend." Jungkook chuckles lowly. "I'm not sure, hyung. I think she took it off." he answers Namjoon. 

Namjoon shakes his head. He was about to stand when you turned his way. "Joonie." 

"Joonie." Yoongi snorts. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes. 

"Y/N." Namjoon calls, motioning you over. 

"Don't rush to find a girlfriend, Kookie. You have to find the right one first." you're rambling, but Jungkook nods his head at your words. "Promise?"

"She's like a mother hen to that boy." Jin laughs. "It's nice."

Yoongi nods his head in agreement. He had his own speculations about you and how a woman knew so much of their lifestyle - yet you proved to not be a threat to them. Jungkook opened up to you easily, and that boy never opened up as easily as he done with you - especially you being the opposite sex. Namjoon was smitten with you. Even if he pretended to be annoyed at your intoxicated appearance now, the faint grin on his lips is glad that you're having fun. 

Namjoon opens his arms and you fall right into his lap. The room is still spinning but you could do nothing but inhale his scent. The act of being in a room with other men leaves your mind completely. All you could do was nuzzle your nose into Namjoon's neck and inhale. "You smell good." you mumble against his neck, your breath tickling his skin. 

"Y/N..." Namjoon swallows a lump in his throat when he feels your lips on his skin. "...we can't-"

"You never denied me before." your tongue licks the nape of his neck and he feels himself growing hard in your embrace. 

"I think it's our queue to go." Yoongi stands as does Seokjin. "Y/N. Welcome to the family." 

You beam in return in having Yoongi's approval. 

"Shit." Jungkook curses. Now he had to handle Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung alone as he was the sole sober person. "Let me find Jimin-hyung then I can drive us home."

You don't acknowled Jungkook leaving. When you hear the door close, you rise from Namjoon's lap and set both legs on either side of him. You drukenly unclasp your bra and throw it aside. 

"Y/N-"

"Please fuck me." you moan, pressing your lips upon his. 

Namjoon himself wasn't sober now and he's fighting the urge to do what you say. 

"I want you to make me cum before Kookie comes back." you beg. "Something quick."

"Quick?" Namjoon hisses, hands laying on your hips. "You want me to fuck you?"

You nod with urgency and Namjoon's fight is lost. He pushes you off of him, fingers digging into your pants and thrusting them down. He drops them at your ankles and you kick them off. Luckily Taehyung was now asleep and Hoseok was long gone.

Namjoon wraps his hand around your throat. You stand straight as he places two fingers against your clit and begins to rub. "How are you so wet already?" he groans. 

"Wan' your cock." you murmur, eyes closing at the sensation. "I need it now. Please, Joonie?"

Namjoon hisses. You were always stubborn and impatient. He pushes you into his chair. He spreads your legs apart and undo's his belt. 

The sight of his cock springing out has your mouth watering. Namjoon doesn't waste valuable time. He spits into his hand and rubs his cock before entering you. He visibly shudders at how amazing you felt. Your minds are beyond intoxication and forgot the main thing you two always used - a condom. 

Namjoon pounds into you - his mind is asking how someone could be so wet, warm and tight. His thumb plays with your clit as he pounds inside of you, only making you wetter by the second. "You just couldn't wait, huh?"

Your hands place themselves on Namjoon's hips as he fucks you. Your body is crashing into the chair with each thrust, sending said chair back and it scrabs against the floor. You're loud, moaning his name without a care. Hoseok and Taehyung were drunk, and even if they woke up and saw - it wasn't going to stop Namjoon from fucking you like you wanted him to.

"Your cock is so..." you bite your lip when you feel Namjoon's thumb quicken its rub on your clit. "...you're fucking me so good, Joonie!"

Your breasts are bouncing aggressively as a result of his pounding. Namjoon wraps both hands on your breast and squeezes them. "We're going to get caught if you don't cum soon, baby."

"Let them watch." you managed to flip Namjoon back to sitting on the chair. You sit onto his cock, gasping at how deep it felt. 

Namjoon shakes his head. You start riding at an alarming pace, your stamina is amazing. You place both hands on his shoulders as you bounces against his cock. 

Your goal was to reach your high - and if Namjoon came along the way made it even better. You were wet, dripping down his thighs at each bounce. You were now screaming out with only one goal in mind. 

"You're riding me so good, baby." Namjoon sends a slap upon your ass. "Turn around."

Namjoon just adores the way your ass bounces against him  - it was his all time favorite sight. When he opens his eyes and has the chance to witness you sliding his cock into you, ass shining  - he's near cumming. He could never last when his view was this beautiful. 

You continued your pace, hands now holding onto the small table in front of you. Namjoon's hands gripped both ass cheeks, eyes never blinking at the way you bounce your ass against him. You were so wet and perfect - his cock was now a nice creamy color. 

"S-Shit!" Namjoon bites down on his bottom lip as he cums right inside of you - you were riding out your own high, juices mixed with his cum dripping out of you and onto his thigh. 

Yall fall against the table, not moving to take Namjoon's cock out of you - even if it was slowly - very slowly - softening. 

"You two couldn't wait to do that?" Jungkook hisses as he enters the room with a drunk and giggling Jimin. He covers his eyes with his hand and releases a frustrated sigh. "Get dressed. We're leaving."

It was national news when SVT - what was remaining of them - and G7 were arrested by Government officials, mainly those coming from outside of the country. The amount of helicopters littering the skies for hours was nere wrecking - it has Bangtan sending all their men away to said ports for extra precaution.

In the end, SVT and G7 were no longer a threat to Bangtan. They were raided and now all awaiting a long trial for those who survived the war between SVT and G7. You had a front row seat to it all - it being viewed live on the news. It reminded you back in the states with the O.J Simpson case - you sometimes go back and watch the footage on youtube.

With two major families down only meant Bangtan grew. What was once belonging to the two fallen families now belonged to Bangtan - and you soon come to regret working on the inside. More men were recruited and more products were coming and going from their ports and warehouses. Security was tighter and it made it more difficult to bring outsiders in.

Namjoon kisses your forehead. "You did it baby." he murmurs against you. "It was your idea to escalate the war between SVT and G7."

You swallow. That was months ago - and now you feel sick to your stomach.

You're unsure why your feelings were changing. You needed to talk to someone - anyone that didn't belong to Bangtan. Monthly, you check in with your captain to ensure you're alive. You were the one that gave the "anonymous" tip to where SVT and G7's warehouses were located. You could have went as far as told them Bangtan's.

But you didn't - not even with the amount of evidence you had. You blame no one but yourself - blame yourself for becoming close to these men. Jungkook reminded you of a puppy who did whatever you told him to out of admiration and respect - yet the amount of weight he moves through Korea alone reminds you that even someone like him could be a criminal. 

Namjoon and you often went on museum dates with one another - so much so that his home began to appear like said museums, yet you couldn't forget your reasonings for being in Korea in the first place. You were allocated for your part in taking down 2 major families - so much so that you were expecting to be awarded whenever you returned. 

You were unsure if you had any desire to return back to the states. You did enjoy your life in South Korea, yet you couldn't stay here. You were afraid that your mind was altered from reality - you were growing to enjoy your stay with Bangtan. Jungkook and Jimin were like the little brothers you never had - Namjoon was the partner you always wished you could have.

But it wasn't real - not when you were undercover attempting to take Bangtan down. You hated yourself as time went on when you woke up besides Namjoon and enjoyed his warm and tight embrace. You loved the sex he gave you - filled with passion and pure lust, not like the hookups you endured during your time back home. It was geniune - real, for something that's fabricated on your side. 

"We have to get ready to leave soon." Namjoon stands from his seat besides you. "And we still need to pack."

You nod your head. Jin's wedding was today being held in Japan. He'd been gone for a week now and Namjoon and you were going to be the last ones to arrive. You weren't feeling great about going outside your home while sick - but you wouldn't miss the opportunity of seeing Jin being married. It was going to be the last event you attended with Bangtan before you made your leave. 

You yourself had no plans of returning to the states, that would be far too risky. With the background check Namjoon did, you could see where you'd live prior to Korea. While they were good on making sure your records were private, Namjoon still had access to basic information on you. 

Your plan was set into motion. You've managed to save a good amount to be comfortable for a bit before you felt as though it was safe returning to the west. You would be considered rogue - you had no intentions of advising your captain of your plan. 

Nor did you intend on going against Bangtan.

The flight to Japan was a quiet one. Namjoon assumed you were tired and allowed you to rest. The ceremony was only a few hours away yet he wanted to spend it with you. He promised to show you to one of his favorite museums and restaurants that he frequented whenever he was in the country. 

As you and Namjoon looked at a piece in the museum, he speaks besides you. He tells you the history of said piece with such passion in his voice that it makes you sick. You could feel your stomach rumbling and tightening and your mouth begin to water. 

You appeared less than appealing when you vomited everything into the nearest trash can - you couldn't even make it to the restrooms. A few people had stared at you but moved out of the way as you released everything from your stomach. 

"Are you alright?" Namjoon pats your back. "Was it something you ate? Do you need to go back to the Hotel?"

You spit and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "No." you shake your head. "Continue talking about the artwork."

Namjoon stares at you. "You...vomited, Y/N. I think you're still feeling sick." he sighs, touching your head and cheeks. "You don't feel warm. Maybe we should visit a doctor?"

You shake your head and sigh deeply. "I'm fine just a stomach bug probably." you insist. "I want to continue our...date? Is this a date?"

Namjoon chuckles. "I suppose it is." he responds. "But there will be many more. We can come back here whenever you want - even after the ceremony." Namjoon is still rubbing your back comfortably. "We can go anywhere you'd like for our dates."

You could vomit again just by his words, but you manage to hold it back. Your heart is swelling and you even fight back tears. You couldn't cry and appear suspicious - he'd know something was wrong and it would do nothing but foil your plans. 

"Okay." you nod. "I'm sleepy."

"We can go home and rest before the ceremony." Namjoon nods understandingly. "If you're too sick to attend, Jin-hyung won't mind."

"I want to attend!" you respond - maybe too quickly. "I'll be fine, I promise."

Namjoon had to remove himself from the rest of the family after he came back to the Hotel room to find you gone. He had - upon arrival - assumed you were in the bathroom. But once he realized that the room was eerily quiet and your bags were gone, he feels his blood run cold. 

The ceremony was a success and you appeared content enough to be there. You mingled with Jungkook and Jimin - and even spoke to Yoongi's girlfriend and Jin's wife. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary with you. Yes, you were sick and had been for a little over a month now - yet you insisted that you were fine and everything will blow over. 

Namjoon doesn't waste any time in calling you - but you never answer. He doesn't tell anyone what he's going through - this wasn't about him at the moment. It was Jin's wedding - he had just came from the bedding ceremony ready to come back to you.

Only, you weren't here - and he had no idea where the hell you went or even how far you've gone. 

Namjoon trusted you. You never gave him a reason not to. You always answered his texts and calls at a reasonable enough time and you never told any lies that he can think of. You were an open book - assisting in whatever you could while in Bangtan that Namjoon never had a reason to check your phone. 

Until now.

Yoongi had hacked into it months ago when you were new. He didn't trust you as easily as the rest had - but Namjoon trusted you and to him, that's all that matters. He had access to your phone whenever he truly needed it, but he never checked. It was privacy, of course, and he respected your privacy. You never truly gave him a reason to ever check your phone. 

Until now.

And realizing that he was nothing but a pawn in your hands has him fuming. 

He read through countless emails you were sending to who he assumed was your superior - all going into detail about SVT and G7. There was limited evidence against Bangtan - but by the emails he read, you were sent to Korea for Bangtan - SVT and G7 was just the cherry on top.

Namjoon's heart feels heavy and for the first time in years he cried - angry tears pooling down from the corner of his eyes. It was pathetic of him to cry over you - a woman who didn't love him. You came into his life as a woman who was too good to be true - an undercover sent from the west. The realization that you knew more than what you should've as a stripper - understanding your ways around firearms and the ability to not feel queasy while you cut the thumbs of their enemies. 

Namjoon scoffs. You used him to get what you wanted - what your plans were now he was unsure about, but he did know that you hadn't spoken to your superiors in a few weeks. By the looks of your location, you were headed North - about an hour away from where he was now. 

Namjoon never put his hands on a woman before. They were fragile beings - his mother raised him to respect all women, even those in the Brothels. His mother raised him to be caring towards women - to always cherish and protect them.

But now, as he learns who you truly were and just how horrid your intentions were - he wants nothing more than to take your life himself. He was fueled by nothing but emotions, his heart yearning for you while his brains wanted you dead. 

Finding you wasn't going to be a difficult task - as long as he had your location, he'd always find you. Ji-Yong drove to the location without asking any questions and Namjoon had an hour and a half to think of what he was going to say to you - how he was going to finally face you. Would he break down and cry once he seen the woman he loved?

Love.

Namjoon did love you - as sad and pathetic as it was. Can you love someone after a short amount of time? For months he considered you to be the first woman (outside of his mother of course) that he'd kill for. There was no questioning what he was willing to do for you if you'd ask him to. 

Namjoon's unsure how he'd react when he was face to face with you. Would you continue to lie to him or face him for who you truly were? Did you feel the way he felt - or was everything a lie? Was the sex not as passionate for you as it was for him? Did you not enjoy waking up in his arms each morning - the dates he took you on?

"Namjoon-ssi?" Ji-yong calls. "We're here."

An hour and a half had gone by already? Was he that consumed in his thoughts that the car ride appeared to be 10 minutes?

"Wait for me here." Namjoon responds. He opens the door and steps out. You're in a motel - a run down motel. You could afford better - he'd given you a great amount of money throughout your time with him. No doubt you took whatever he gave you and planned your escape.

Namjoon makes his way in, no one is seated at the front desk at his arrival, but he wouldn't have cared either way. Your room is just down the hall to the right. 

Namjoon stands outside your door for 10 whole minutes. You're silent on the other side - just as silent as he was. Maybe you were asleep - he's not sure.

The door was locked, but easily unlocked with a quick swipe of his credit card - cheap motels didn't have safety precautions. 

You weren't asleep - you were showering. He can hear the sounds of the running water hitting against the shower floor. He strolls silently through the small motel room, his eyes straight at you. You left the bathroom door open, the clear curtains showing the water dripping from your body. 

Your back was towards him - the memories of him and you showering together while laughing and joking flashes through his mind. You didn't care for him - it was all a lie. A fabricated lie to get through him and to his family. 

You met his mother - she liked you. She didn't speak directly to you, but she liked you. She told him constantly that the two of you would be married and you'd give her a grandchild. Namjoon can only laugh at just how wrong her palm readers were. 

Namjoon snatches the shower curtain aside and yanks your hair. You scream, frightened at the sudden impact. He slams you against the bathroom floor and your hands barely manage to catch you. 

"You lied to me!" Namjoon hisses, eyes burning with rage.

You don't respond. You're vulnerable - naked and scooting to get away from him. 

"You never loved me, Y/N. You used me to get to Bangtan, right?"

How did he know this?

How did he find you?

"Answer me!" Namjoon screams, the veins in his neck pusling. 

"J-Joonie-"

"Don't call me that." Namjoon releases the gun from his hip and points it at you. "You never cared for me, Y/N."

You begin to cry. You're terrified - Namjoon was showing a different side to himself. This isn't the man you've known that took you on museum dates and walks through parks - he was deranged. Screaming and waving around a gun with pure rage in his eyes. 

"I-I'm sorry." was all you could manage to say. 

You've scooted out of the bathroom and now leaned against the bed - still naked. Namjoon follows you closely, gun never faltering. 

"You're sorry for what?" Namjoon scoffs. "For pretending to want me for who I am? Or sorry for trying to take down my family?"

You were sorry that you've hurt him this much. You hoped by the time he figured out you were gone, you'd be far away that he would never be able to find you. You didn't understand how he found out about you, but you were positive that only one of you was leaving here alive. 

"I loved you, Y/N." Namjoon's voice cracked at his words. "Was the police going to be there when we got back to Korea?"

You shake your head. "I-I never told them about-"

Namjoon drops the gun. He strides to you and yanks you up. You're on the bed, his hands gripping your cheeks roughly. "Don't lie to me, Y/N."

"I'm not lying." you trembled beneath him. Namjoon never scared you until now - you're unsure what he was truly capable of. One things for certain, being completely bare before a seething man frightens you more than anyone could understand. 

Namjoon watches your tears fall, and he hates himself that he feels saddened. He doesn't like to see you cry - even when his heart was shattered at the revelation. 

"Was it all fake?" Namjoon murmurs after minutes of dead silence. "The smiles and laughs? Our time together...? Was it all a lie for you to take me down?"

No - but you don't respond. 

Namjoon wraps both hands around your neck - he squeezes it. He himself could feel the tears forming in his own eyes as he closes in on your throat. You're kicking and thrashing beneath him, gagging for air. But he can't care, not now - not when he and his family were threatened. 

You knee him in the abdomen and Namjoon falls back. 

"I'm pregnant!" you screech, kicking yourself away from him. You're gasping for air now, heart pumping outside your chest. "I'm pregnant," you repeat. 

Namjoon is silent but his gaze doesn't leave you. 

"You're lying to me." he shakes his head slowly. 

"I'm not." you bring your knees to your chest - you're afraid of what else he was going to do and you were no match for him. "I found out a month ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Namjoon snaps - he was going to go insane. 

"I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want anyone to find out." you're whimpering now. "I was going to go rogue."

Rogue. 

"You weren't returning to the west?"

You shake your head. 

"Why?" Namjoon doesn't want to believe you, not after all the lies he lived with for months. 

"If I returned I'd have to tell them everything that Bangtan is about. If I refused I would be interrogated through cruel punishment." you respond. "If I went rogue...there was a possibility that they'd assume I died."

Namjoon inhales deeply. "Your plan was to take my child from me." he states. "And go rogue against your superiors and live your life constantly running."

"I had no other choice."

"Your choice was to choose me!" Namjoon hisses.

"I did." you hiss back, but it comes out as a hushed whisper. "That's why I left."

Namjoon gets onto his feet and your eyes watch his every move. 

"Now that I know you're having my child, Y/N. I can't allow you to leave." Namjoon speaks. 

"Are you going to kill me after I give birth?" It was a serious question that sounded absurd. "Because if so, I'd rather you do it now. It's nothing but a clump of cells at the moment."

"I'm not going to kill you." Namjoon's chest tightened. He never wanted to kill you. "You'll come back with me and raise my child. You've already gone rogue - you have no where else to run."

"You don't trust me anymore. Who's to say I won't betray you again?"

"I don't know." Namjoon answers truthfully. "But I do know that you're carrying my child and I won't allow anyone to harm you. You can come back with me and we can work on whatever our relationship was prior to this," Namjoon waves his hands around. "I won't tell anyone of you being an undercover."

"How would I explain my disappearance?"

Namjoon sits at the edge of the bed. He couldn't believe how easy it was for him to want you back once more - after all you've done to betray him. 

"You were forced into being an informant by the organization. You gave them SVT and G7 but they wanted more." Namjoon speaks - easily as if it was the sole truth. "You refused to give Bangtan because of our love for one another so you ran."

You listened closely. 

"I found you. You're pregnant. I forgive you. They will, as well." Namjoon licks his lips. "We'll get married before the baby is born and you're to remain by my side until death do us part."

"W-What about-"

"You're going to be dead as far as the Organized Crime is concerned. I'll send a death certificate in the mail to them, along with fabricated proof that you are deceased. Dental records and finger prints."

You're astonished by the plan. It was well thought out as if Namjoon didn't come up with it easily. 

"If you betray me again, Y/N, I can't guarantee you won't be harmed." Namjoon warns. "You'll be my wife and you and our child will want for nothing. But I cannot have you going against me. Not again."

You watch Namjoon through hooded eyes. You couldn't stop the tears from falling harder now and you crawled towards him. You placed your head in his lap and Namjoon's unsure how you exactly feel about his plan, but he takes it as you agreed with it. He places a hand on your bare back as you cry. "Let's go home, Y/N." he murmurs when your cries turn to soft whimpers. 

@seokjinkismet @silversparkles11 @bloodline1632

#organized crime #explicit-tae #cruel intentions #btsmasterlist2022 #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #bts smut #bangtan smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #bts yandere #namjoon yandere #bts mafia au #cruel intentions: organized crime #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #bangtanwriters net #namjoon mafia #cruel intentions masterlist

[pennyellee]

SNIPPET FROM CHAPTER III

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

an: Hello chummers! I’m leaving for work for some time but I promise the next chapter will be up around 23-25th of July. Meanwhile I’m leaving you with a little snippet from the chapter before I will be able to post full preview. You’re welcome to ask me anything, just send me asks, don’t be shy:) I actually might slip some spoilers out 👀

Enjoy!

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER III - preview coming soon

Lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @hi12345567 @nochuel @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest @bbgniecyy @elayne321 @seojunandsoju @bun-27 @whipwhoops

@beautifulcloudfestival

©pennyellee. please do not repost

#bts fanfic #mafia au #bts #fic:lacrimosa #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #soft yandere #yandere #yoongi x reader #gang au #kim namjoon #namjoon mafia #mafia bts #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #bts x reader #bts yoongi #min yoongi yandere #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi mafia au #suga yandere #suga #seokjin x reader #jimin x oc

[btsmosphere]

Namjoon.

Namjoon’s powers are red. Little more is known, except that he should not be underestimated. Most superpowers come from unfortunate accidents, mysterious happenings and rare gifts, but Namjoon is... something else. He seems to be collecting them, the same way he takes in stray people, people who are too deadly to find their way back anywhere remotely normal...

<prev | Supercharged Masterlist Here | next>

#namjoon aesthetic #namjoon au #namjoon moodboard #namjoon imagine #namjoon mafia #mafia namjoon #bts mafia au #bts series #jungkook x reader #supercharged #kim namjoon au #namjoon villain #namjoon villain au #namjoon villain aesthetic #bts rm moodboard #namjoon mafia aesthetic

[alpacaparkaseok]

How to Steal Moonlight |1|

Chapter 1. The Heist

→ Pairing: mafia!BTS x reader (not poly)

→ word count: 6.2k

→ warnings/tags: SFW, we stealin stuff, general sassery, Hoseok alludes to crimes committed in France because he's extra, paranoia, general love for life

→ a/n: HI I HOPE YOU DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT ME. We're here! We've made it! Chapter 1! I feel like there's so many things that I would've like to have included, but also, nothing's ever perfect. There's so so so much to come from this series, and I hope you enjoy experiencing it with me. as always, thank you! and pls come tell me what you're thinking, it gives me life. happy reading!

The world is set in tones of gray. It makes for a gentle greeting as you walk out into the cold morning. Taking a seat, you watch the mist slowly approach the deck like a wary child. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the ocean, peaceful and calm. It’s almost perfect.

            An apple crunches between someone’s teeth, obnoxious and loud.

            “Good morning, Victoria.”

The blonde doesn’t look at you, sitting just to her right. Instead, her mouth moves robotically as she chews the apple, eyes trained on something just beyond the mist.

            “I was under the impression that you were asleep.” Her voice feigns innocence, yet you know better. After all, it’s been you that’s been up at all hours of the night, listening to the distinct sound of an apple snapping under the force of her teeth. You’re at your wit’s end – so much so that even the sight of an apple flips a switch inside of you, making your blood pressure skyrocket.

            Even in the dim light of the pre-dawn world, the bags under Victoria’s eyes pop. Her hair lies across her shoulder with a dull, greasy sheen that only days on end without a shower can bring.

            “No. I wasn’t.” You stare with unbridled rage as she lifts the apple back to her mouth, opening wide for another bite. Acting on pure impulse, your hand shoots out, slapping it out of her hand with unnecessary force. The apple thumps to the ground and rolls, the force of your slap sending it careening off the deck and disappearing into the forest below. Victoria stares at where it fell with an absent frown on her face.

            You force a breath in only to find your lungs charged up with a swallowed scream. It’s the same one you’ve been repressing for a week now – a week filled with monitors that beep incessantly and quiet, whispered voices that cease when you walk into a room.

            “You know,” you begin, and you’re startled to hear the quake in your whisper, “someone that sits up all night eating god-forsaken apples and playing watchdog screams guilty conscience.”

            Victoria doesn’t bother looking at you – you’re unsure if she’s glanced your way since that fateful day that you let her walk free. Even when you found her here, sitting on the deck of your suite as if there was nowhere else she was supposed to be, she hardly looked at you.

            “An apple a day keeps the devil away.”

            “Doctor,” you hiss. “It keeps the doctor away.”

            A ghost of a smile flickers across her pale face as she reaches into her pocket, producing a bright green apple. “Sure.”

            Then she takes a bite.

--

            The small town of Julien looks like it could be out of a Hallmark film. Especially tonight, with the full moon and stars in full splendor. You remark as much to Seokjin, who stands beside you in the tree line.

            “Yeah, it does,” he says, voice muffled as he hides his mouth behind a chunky red scarf. “Do Hallmark movies end up like this, then?”

            He must be referring to the gallon of gasoline he’s holding up. The red container matches his scarf alarmingly well, which makes you wonder if he chose the color on purpose.

            You frown, thinking. “Well…most winter ones have some sort of fire, I guess. You know, sitting next to the fireplace, roasting chestnuts. It’s supposed to be romantic.”

            “This is basically the same thing, then.”

            “Really romantic.”

            “Isn’t it?” Seokjin’s head tilts to the same side a smile pulls on his lips, eye reflecting the lights of the village only 100 yards away. For a moment you see something deeper, a doorway to a memory over a year ago now, of the first night you met. The snow seeping into your boots could be the ash of a burned building that Seokjin stood in the center of as if it were his throne.

            Ducking his head so that his nose edges your cheekbone, he breathes out a laugh as you take a shaky breath. It’s always the same; some dark corner or secluded spot finds you going up in flames with your hired arsonist. Only this time, it’s not in your head. His deft fingers tug you closer, steadying you as you tramp over snow only to find yourself suddenly pressed up against the trunk of a tree.

            “Jin-” you half scold, half plead. His dark eyes rove your face, jaw clenched.

            “You’ll be safe in there?” You nod, but he shakes his head. “Say it.”

            “Y-yes,” you breathe out. You’ve hardly looked at him for weeks and suddenly he’s here, inches from you. It’s a flood of emotions you’ve yet to examine, staring you in the eyes.  

            “The plan. Repeat it.”

            You blink, craning your neck even as he hunches over, head hanging. His eyes remain closed, breath crystalizing in the cold air.

            “Are you…” you say, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that you tamp down. “Are you worried right now?”

            He hesitates before speaking, but when he does his voice is a rough strain against the night air. “I’m not…used to working with a conflict of interest.” Straightening, he turns to retrieve the gasoline he left abandoned in the snow moments before.

            “I’m your boss. Not a conflict of interest.”

            “You’re you. That’s enough of an issue, as far as I’m concerned.”

            Grinning, you step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smiles, eyes glimmering. “And the plan is simple enough. Ten minutes, tops. Grab any valuables within reaching distance. Jimin’s on the other side of the street waiting for us. They’ve been drinking pretty heavily for…” you check your watch, frowning. “A couple of hours, at least? You’ll run the distraction outside. Deal?”

            “So what, I’m nothing more than the thing that goes boom in this situation?”

            You shake your head. “I’m the muscle.”

            “What’s that make me?”

            “The pretty face.”

            Seokjin’s laugh is quiet as he leans down, close enough to touch. Yet neither of you dare to move, the same force holding you apart now as it has since the aftermath of Taehyung’s betrayal first began. Something flickers in his eyes, something you haven’t found a name for just yet.

            “Jin…” you whisper, almost afraid of the way it sounds like a plea. His eyes spark, dipping down to your mouth where his name sits on your lips. You haven’t spoken about what transpired between you two on the day of Yadiel’s death, but the ghost of it passes through you every time he looks at you. The feel of his lips against yours, the way he saw into your soul as you bore your heart to him amidst smoke and ruin.

            Eyes slipping shut, Seokjin looks almost innocent as he forces himself to relax. To refrain. You bristle, watching the walls snap up again.

            “Why do you do that?” You breathe out. He takes a step back, squaring his shoulders. Slipping the mask of the arsonist back into place.

            “Because one of us has to be able to function,” he quietly teases, even though every word sounding like a confession. Another step away from you, eyes turning to face the cabin. “Because we’re doing a job.”

--

            As much as Seokjin joked about his alarmingly good looks, you knew he’d rather stay in the shadows. He did so surprisingly well, reminding you of Hoseok’s uncanny ability to do so. Perhaps he’d learned more from the hitman than you realized.

            He went first, leaving you with a prolonged look that resulted in a hurried kiss atop your head before disappearing between the trees. Your heart rate picked up with each step he took, anxiety chipping away at your already frayed edges.

            Julien was a town you would’ve never visited if it weren’t for Jungkook. Placed into intensive care immediately following a gunshot wound to the chest that resulted in a collapsed lung, you went north of Queen’s Wharf to the small mountain village of Julien which had a renowned private hospital at its disposal. Since arriving three weeks ago, Jungkook had been placed into a medical induced coma while undergoing procedures to reconstruct his lung and ribcage.

            And now, you arrived at the heart of your problem.

            You were broke.

            “In position.” Jimin’s voice crackles to life in your ear. “Awaiting your signal.”

            It isn’t long before Jin responds, quiet voice skittering between your shoulder blades, making you shiver involuntarily. “Did she tell you I was just eye candy tonight?”

            “Oh, Seokjin.” Jimin sounds like he’s speaking to a kindergartener. “What did you think you were getting paid for?”

            Rolling your eyes, you begin to move out. The cabin up ahead is wreathed in light, looking like it was plucked out of the North Pole. You half expect to run into Rudolph on your long trek up, but all is silent around you.

            Save for the incessant chatter in your ear.

            “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

            “Who? Me?” Jimin’s having too much fun sitting in the warmth of his car across the street.

            “What’s your position, Seokjin?”You grit the words out, ignoring their banter. “I’m approaching from the east side.”

            A pause, and then Seokjin’s answer. “I’m inside the shed.”

            “Nobody can see your face inside the shed, Seokjin,” Jimin chides with a note of laughter. You snort before you can catch yourself, feeling the tightness in your shoulders easing for the first time in weeks. “Kinda misses the point, doesn’t it?”

            “Shhh, I’m working,” Seokjin whispers back.

            Finally, the chatter stops. You’re close enough now that the shadows in the windows are clear, showing a few partygoers and caterers standing near the walls. The rest should be nearer the center of the house, right where the action is. The elite of New England crawling out of the colonial mansions to hide their satin dresses and Rolexes beneath down coats and skis that cost more than Jungkook’s hospital bills.

            Tonight, you’re one of them.

            “Ascending the stairs.”

            Abandoning the old knee-length coat in the snow to reveal a full-length emerald slip, you eye the wine glass someone left behind on the back deck. It’s easy to summon the rest, setting aside the questions nagging at you in the back of your mind and stumbling up the stairs toward the cabin.

            “Woah there,” a short man in a blue suit stands at the top of the deck, staring down at you with his mouth wide open. “What’re you doing out here? You’re going to catch hypothermia out there!”

            Fixing your paper-thin sleeve so that it stays on your shoulder, you laugh a little too loudly. “Trust me, we were plenty hot out there.” You hand him your glass, running a hand through your hair. “Have you seen my husband?”

            His eyes grew impossibly wider as his mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I- your husband? But who…” understanding dawns on his face as he flushes a deep red. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

            “Are you trying to make the news?”

            The voice that comes from the French doors is soft and almost as cold as the snow clinging to your ankles. Pulling your features into the picture of serenity, you turn to face the man standing in the entryway with a look that could kill you where you stand.

            “She does this, you know.” Hoseok strides forward, taking your arm in a firm grip. He hardly spares you a glance, instead focusing his attention on the poor man who has taken to staring down at the two wine glasses in his hands. “Last year we went on this amazing hiking trip in France only for her to wander off with our guide. You know what happened?”

            “Uh, no…”

            “What’s your name?”

            The man blinks, breath coming out in quick little spurts that make it look like he’s breathing out smoke in the frigid air. “Er, Roger. Sir.”

            Hoseok claps his hand on Roger’s shoulder, forcing out a dry laugh. “Well, Roger, let me tell you what happened. Our guide got lost. They thought they’d take a little midnight swim, but he forgot which way to find the lake. You see, the cliffs were to the west, which was right where he was heading. I suspect he realized his mistake on his trip down.”

            Roger’s face couldn’t get any more comical, but alas, his gasp shook the cabin itself. You squeeze Hoseok’s arm, but he shrugs it off.

            “Cut to the investigation, the DNA evidence, the strangely broken compass…” Hoseok spared you a look of pure disgust. “Well, you can piece it together.”

            “You…” Roger points a feeble finger your way, but Hoseok cuts him off.

            “Exactly. She loves making the news. Always wants to have a hand in the next great tragedy. Awful, isn’t it?”

            Leaning against him, you push out your lips in a pout. “I thought you liked that about me."

            Hoseok laughs, Roger’s mouth twisting into a half laugh as he stares on in confused horror. “Anyway, Renfield-”

            “It’s, er, Roger.”

            “Right. Roger. Would you mind keeping a lookout back here in case there’s any sign of the poor man she’s lured away tonight? I’ve got to get her home.”

            Roger could only nod, watching on as Hoseok practically dragged you inside. You nearly tripped over the entryway, bumping into him.

            Few people looked your way as you entered. You kept your focus on Hoseok as he guided you into the center of the house, to a large living area decked with live pine trees that almost touched the fifteen foot ceiling.

            Mistletoe hung from various stations, including a spot over the fireplace where a woman was straddling a man twice her age, her lips pressed to his.

            “We’re in, with a watchman on the deck,” Hoseok says conversationally. “At your leisure, Seokjin.”

            “Timer is set, you’ve got ten minutes. See you on the other side.”

            Squeezing Hoseok’s arm, you relinquish your hold on him at the same time he moves away from you. “Be honest, you enjoyed that way too much out there.”

            Hoseok beams, a laugh working past his lips. “I’m almost lost it at the end. Poor Renfield.”

            “Roger.”

            He shrugs. “Whatever.” Slipping off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, he winks conspiratorially. Then he turns, disappearing into the swarm. You watch him go until he’s nothing more than a head bobbing in the crowd.

            You know what you need to do. It’d be hard not to when you’re practically drowning in wealth out here on the dance floor.

            First, you approach center of the floor where it’s only writhing bodies and the strong stench of alcohol. Here, nobody will notice hands brushing up against their bodies. They won’t notice their wrists feeling a little lighter, either.

            A gold bracelet embedded with diamonds slips off an older woman’s wrist. A young man’s Rolex is next, followed by two wallets. You turn and flash a smile at a man close to his forties who sidles up close to you. Grinning slyly, you slip around to his back, hands finding his shoulders before scratching the fabric of his shirt as your fingers slide down to around his biceps.

            “Does the jacket mean you’re taken?” He shouts above the music, eyes sparking with curiosity. You laugh sharply, squeezing his arm at the same time your other hand slips to his back pocket.

            “Probably in the same way that ring says the same for you.”

            He glances down at the wedding ring on his finger, shrugging dismissively. “Semantics.” Turning to face you head on, he frowns as he finds nobody there.

            No doubt that frown will deepen later when he realizes his wallet has mysteriously disappeared as well. Hiding in plain sight as you dance a few yards away with the suit jacket folded in your arms, you wonder if he’ll remember you when he thinks of his missing wallet. Perhaps he’ll be smart enough to put two and two together.

            Judging from the way he wastes no effort looking for you and moves on to a young brunette almost immediately, you seriously doubt he will.

            “Two minutes.”

            The sound of Seokjin’s warning triggers something deep inside you, and suddenly you’re imagining him standing before you, on the dance floor.

            It’d be empty save for the mistletoe and the fire crackling in the fireplace. He’d stand there in a suit, grinning at you as you trod on his feet. Perhaps he’d lean in close, lips brushing against your ear as he quietly sang along to the music. Then you’d turn in his arms, leaning back against him as his nose edged along the column of your throat-

            “Fire! There’s a fire!”

            You jump, jewelry clinking in the pockets of Hoseok’s suit coat. Heart in your throat, you swivel until you find the hitman, who stands on the second-floor landing where he’d been keeping an eye out for you while you performed your little heist. He nods and you move, making small circles around the room so as to not draw attention to yourself. A frenzy has taken up inside the cabin as the owner catches wind of the situation.

            “What’s going on out here?” Ulson Love demands, practically shoving Hoseok out of the way as he makes his way toward the back deck. The shed blazes in the distance, sending Ulson to leap off of the deck itself. The snow acts as some sort of cushion for the fall, but you still can’t help but peek out and enjoy the sight of Ulson struggling to gain his footing. Covered head to toe in snow, Ulson looks far from the dignified owner of one of the biggest pharmaceuticals in the nation.

            “He jumped!” Someone screams, while another holds their loved one close as if shielding them from a murder crime scene.

            “My jet-skis are in there!” Comes another voice, this one from Ulson’s oldest son, Frederick. “Dad! My jet-skis!”

            Barely managing to stifle a laugh, you abandon the crowd and head toward Hoseok. He chats with a handful of the other guests, feigning concern as well as he played the careless husband earlier.

            “Oh, there you are,” he says by way of greeting. You extend his suit coat out to him with a meaningful look. “Ready to head out? I daresay this party’s winding down.”

            The others chuckle knowingly, one in particular eying the way your slip clings to your thighs. Tilting your head so you make eye contact with him, you offer him a high-class sneer.

            “I thought New England was supposed to have some class.”

            Hoseok laughs, hand lighting on your shoulder and guiding you back down the stairs. “I’d forgotten – you’ve never come before.” Matching your disgusted expression bit for bit, he glances back at the others. “Rookie mistake.”

            Together you walk out the front door, which is already swarming with guests. Some make for their cars, where valets are rushing to get their jobs done. Most stand idly by, phones out as they vlog their wild experience in the otherwise quiet ski town.

            Across the street, Jimin flashes his lights. Waving at a group of influencers you’ve never seen before; you follow Hoseok to the car.

“Know them?” He asks.

“No.”

Hoseok snorts, shaking his head as you two near the Mercedes. Together, you slide into the back seat.

            “Have fun?” Jimin asks from the driver’s seat. Seokjin sits beside him, eyes on the rear-view mirror. You meet his gaze, flushing as you recall how lost you’d become daydreaming about him in there.

            “The best time.”

            “And,” Hoseok shakes the pockets of his suit jacket, listening to the sound of jewelry tinkling inside. “We stole stuff.”

            The car ride to the other end of town is lively, everyone feeling good for the first time since Jungkook got hit. Banter flows easily between Hoseok and Jimin, and you note that the two of them seem to have sprouted a friendship when you weren’t looking. Gone is the typical venom fueling their jabs.

            “We should be getting close…” Jimin says, eying the GPS. He slows to a stop as the road goes from pavement to dirt, groaning.

            “What?”

            He gestures around him, mouth open. “This is a dirt road! Yoongi never said anything about off-roading.”

            “I’d hardly call this off-roading,” Hoseok says, crossing his arms. “Although, look. Fresh snow.”

            Rolling down the window, you look outside to see the dirt road covered in freshly-fallen snow. Cursing, you duck back in. “Crap. I was really hoping to not leave tracks tonight.”

            “The Mercedes isn’t going down there,” Jimin says defiantly. “It’s divine intervention, the snow. We can’t leave tracks.”

            “You just don’t want to get mud on the tires,” Seokjin points out. He turns around in his seat, facing you. “Thoughts?”

            “How far away is the drop zone?”

            Consulting his phone, Seokjin’s brows crease in concentration. “Less than a mile.”

            “Great. Jimin? Pop the trunk.”

            “Huh?” You open the door, already halfway out of it. “Oh, alright. Cool. Let me just grab that for you.”

            You pull it open, already starting to plan ahead. It’ll take a while in this weather, especially if the snow worsens. But a job is a job, no matter the weather, right? All you’ll need are some thick socks-

            “Hey.”

            Seokjin appears, gazing down into the trunk. You stare up at him, wondering if you’re senses have really dulled that much over the past few weeks. He might as well have appeared out of thin air with how distracted you were.

            Instinctively you glance over your shoulder for any further surprises, but the only thing approaching on the street behind you is the falling snow.

            “This looks promising.” He’s pointing to the snowshoes taking up most of the trunk with a grimace that might be a twisted smile. “More difficult to track, doesn’t present a particularly unique footprint.”

            “Exactly.” You nudge his side, grinning up at him. “You read my mind.”

            He looks inclined to lean down a little closer but stops himself. “We’ll have to move quick, I’m sure this place will be crawling with the guests soon. Maybe the police if they sense foul play, which rich people almost always do.”

            “I wonder why.”

            Grabbing the bag you’d had the foresight to pack in case of an emergency, you quickly change into warmer clothes but find yourself with one dilemma.

            “Jimin?”

            You lean down to eye-level beside his door. It allows you a perfect view for when he shrivels up in anticipation for what you’re about to say. He sweeps his hair back – black now, instead of the blond you’d become so familiar with. It suits him, you think. Gives his glare an edge that it didn’t have before.

            “What do you want from me.”

--

            Jimin complains loudly as Seokjin backs the Mercedes up, placing the tire tracks over your footprints on the road. “This feels wrong. Awful.”

            “You’re not the one wearing the sweaty socks!” You call out. “It’s not natural, Hoseok. Nobody should be able to exude this much sweat in such a short amount-”

            The car tires squeal in their attempt to speed away, drowning out the rest of your words as well as Seokjin’s barking laugh. Hoseok waves a hang out the window as they leave, returning to the lodge where Namjoon and Yoongi await.

            Where Namjoon stands guard to Victoria, although the two of them haven’t so much as looked at each other since her sudden arrival.

            Jimin offers his arm to you, red scarf vivid against the backdrop of the village lights. “Shall we?”

            Holding up the bag – a grocery sack, no less – you accept his arm. “Let’s get this over with. I’m already freezing.”

            Together you set out, avoiding the dirt road entirely in favor of the woods. Sticking to the edge of the trees, you keep a wary eye out for any sign of movement among the shadows. Jimin remains just as cautious beside you, his breathing steady.

            The stars watch on, unmoving as you trek along. Occasionally you pass a sign for the abandoned mine; the historical site that originally put the small town on the map. Tonight it acts as your drop zone.

            Jimin keeps his eyes ahead, looking determined. He knows just as well as you do that the money tonight’s loot will bring in will prove not only to cushion your threadbare wallets, but it’ll prove something to you.

            “Operation went smoothly,” he remarks. The snow crunches with every step, the sound comforting.

            “It did.”

            He’s humming softly to himself, stepping along jauntily. It’s enough to bring a smile to your face, even as your mind drifts back to the lodge where the others await.

            “Interesting choice, having Hoseok in the cabin with you.”

            Your brows furrow, catching wind of his up-to-no-good tone. “What do you mean?”

            Jimin shrugs, seemingly taking great pleasure in having the upper hand for a moment. “Well, he played the role of your husband. A little interesting, considering the fact that your lover was just outside.”

            “I – what-”

            “Don’t worry,” Jimin laughs, waving off your dumbfounded expression. You’d thought you kept your preference for a certain arsonist under control the past few weeks, but apparently you weren’t nearly as stealthy as you’d imagined. “Your secret’s safe with me. Until it’s convenient for me to use as leverage and so on…”

            “How did you know?” You flush, heart stopping. “Our mics weren’t on earlier!” Balling your hands up into fists, you bite down on your knuckles. “Were they?”

            Gasping, Jimin smacks your hands down away from your mouth. “No! What were you two doing back there? In the great outdoors no less-”

            “Nothing! Just…talking.”

            “Well I’d like to talk more often, if that’s how it goes.”

            “Jimin.”

            He ignores your stern tone with another laugh. “Oh, relax. I saw him heading up to your room the other night, that’s all. Didn’t take much to piece it all together.”

            You blink, trying to recall what he’s talking about. Just as your about to deny the claim, you gasp. “Wait, really? Like three, four nights ago?”

            Jimin eyes you suspiciously. “Yeah, something like that. Are you telling me you don’t remember?”

            “No! It’s just…” You recall how lost you’d been that night, trying to convince yourself that it’d be fine if you left everyone behind to go find Taehyung. At that point, you didn’t care about slow, painful ways to make him regret what he’d done. A slipped knife in an alleyway would do well enough.

            Just as you began to devise a plan to get past Victoria, who never slept during the night, a knock had sounded at your door. Seokjin appeared, padding soundless across the floor before coming to a stop beside your bed.

            “Are you…” Seokjin swallowed, crouching down to meet your wide-eyed gaze. “Are you alright?”

            You must have managed some sort of affirmative response, because he nodded to himself, relief written across his features. He was shaking, you think. He looked pale, almost green in the moonlight.

            “Seokjin?” You croaked, feeling as if you were spinning. Half of your mind was gone, tracking down a traitor while the other half was there in your room, watching Seokjin with eyes wide enough that you thought you could catch every detail of his face as he watched you. “Did something happen?”

            He shook his head then. “No. No, nothing happened. It was all in my head.” He leaned forward, his hair tickling your jaw as he brushed a slow kiss against your shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

            A snowflake lands on your eyelash, blurring your vision. Blinking it away, you find Jimin looking at you with confusion written in his eyes. “I thought that was a dream.”

            Quiet and then – “That good, huh?”

            “Jimin!”

--

            A single lamp hangs from the boarded up entrance of the abandoned mine. It casts an eerie glow on the ground, bringing you to a stop long before you can reach the circle of light. Jimin approaches it, hanging the bag on the lamp before retreating back to the cover of the trees.

            “Do we leave, or…?”

            “How many times have you done something like this?” You whisper, looking at him incredulously. Jimin raises a defensive hand.

            “Hey, I’m always the guy in the car, ok? Don’t ask me how the nitty gritty gets done.”

            Rolling your eyes, you settle down to wait. Jimin huddles beside you, checking his watch. Only ten minutes to midnight; the appointed pick-up time.

            “You know the guy?” Jimin asks.

            “No. Yoongi does, though. It’s his contact.”

            “And you trust Yoongi.”

            A loaded question. Do you trust anyone right now? “I trust his desperation. That’s all I need.”

            Jimin fixes you with a questioning look, but you ignore it, scanning the area instead. Most of the group knew very little about your deal with Russo – the one in which you signed Yoongi back to him. It was easy then, to promise Russo that if he’d help you take down Yadiel he could have his favorite pawn back. Of course, you hadn’t known then that Russo was in with Taehyung all along. It was a sure win for him.

            Now, he was out for blood. Your blood, specifically. With the Father, the head of the Genovese family, and the Kim’s at his side, it was only a matter of time before he found your little family and tore it apart.

            So, you needed assets. You needed connections.

            Money. What you really need is money.

            Yoongi understood that and more, of course. So tonight, you trust his desperation to remain free of the Father’s control.

            You just hope that extends to his client as well.

            The minutes tick by painfully slow, and you’re fighting to keep your teeth from chattering when Jimin nudges you, pointing toward a slowly approaching figure.

            Clothed in all white, they move cautiously but with an air of self-importance that you’ve seen before.

            Teeth bared, you’ve nearly clambered to your feet before Jimin has a hold of you. “Sit down,” he hisses, yanking you back. The white-clad figure looks your way, but can’t see past the trees to your exact location. Rushing forward, they grab the bag and check the contents.

            “I’ll have my jeweler inspect these,” they announce loudly, and only then do you stop fighting against Jimin’s iron grip. “We’ll be in touch shortly. Send Min my regards.”

            Only once they’ve disappeared through the other side of the woods does Jimin release you, glaring. “What was that all about? You nearly ruined that for us!”

            Rubbing your face angrily, you shake your head. “It was nothing.”

            “Nothing?”

            “Yeah.”

            His laugh is hard as ice. “Really? Because that didn’t look like nothing. The poor guy probably thought he was about to get jumped-”

            “I thought it was Tae-” the name gets caught like a ribbon on a fence, tearing itself in two. “Taehyung.” Jimin goes still, his mouth slackening. “He looked like Taehyung.”

            Already you’re walking, not wanting to hear the scoff bound to leave his lips. Poor little capa, she’s lost her mind. She’s seeing things, up in the night.

            Snow crunches as Jimin struggles to catch up, nearly falling on his face in the process. “And you were going to do what? If it was Taehyung.”

            You shake your head, mind spinning. For some reason the memory of Taehyung’s first meeting with Namjoon crops up on your head. The way he threatened Namjoon with his life when he displayed a single ounce of disrespect towards you.

            The way you dived in headfirst to his kiss that night after the gala. He needed me. He said he needed me, then.

            “I would’ve killed him.”

            Jimin doesn’t respond. He turns on his mic instead. “We’re on our way back from the drop zone.”

            Yoongi is the one who responds, clearly having tuned in for sake of being nothing other than nosy. “I’ll meet you on the road, then.”

            With that out of the way, you traverse most of the way back to the road in silence. Jimin no longer hums to himself as you walk, preferring to keep a furrowed brow as he thinks. You almost want to yell at him to spit it out already, but instead you take to reciting your grocery list in your head instead.

            Two gallons of milk.

            Gauze.

            Peanut butter.

            Pain meds.

            Eggs.

            Ammunition.

            The snow has stopped falling by the time Jimin finally says what’s on his mind.

            “I would’ve helped you, if it was him.”

            You blink away the list in your mind. “You would’ve?”

            Up ahead, a car pulls to a stop just before the dirt road. Yoongi. “Of course.” Jimin pauses, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing it tightly. “He’s a Kim. He deserves it by default.”

            Snorting, you approach the car. Yoongi rolls down the passenger side window, waving you over. “How’d it go?” He calls out.

            Climbing inside and ignoring Jimin’s pointed sigh as he takes the back seat, you hold your snow shoes to your chest. Yoongi looks expectant, almost hopeful.

            “Good, I think. We’ll hear from them soon. Once their jeweler figures it out.”

            Yoongi nods, pulling away. “That’s the best we can hope for, I guess.” He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you fiddle with the heater.

            “How’re things back at the lodge?”

            He’s quiet for a long moment, making your heart pick up speed. “Well….nothing if not eventful.”

            You meet Jimin’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            Yoongi taps the steering wheel to some beat in his head. “Jungkook’s awake.”

--

            The lodge is a private care center. It houses families or other large groups, anonymously, why their loved ones are being cared for. Top doctors are paid very well to look after their patients.

            You hate the lodge.

            Hate the smell, the way it seeps into every surface and fabric within a mile radius. You hate the way you’re forced to smile and be polite while speaking with nurses day in and day out, listening for anything different.

            “No, Ms. Bianchi, there’s been no change.”

            “He’s strong, encourage him to keep fighting, Ms. Bianchi.”

            “He’s lucky to be alive, Ms. Bianchi.”

            He’s lucky. A miracle. A sign of divine help.

            “What do you mean, he’s awake?” Your voice sounds like it’s a thousand miles away as you stare at Yoongi, dumbfounded.

            He shrugs. “Woke up a couple of hours ago. I think Namjoon finally pestered him into waking up, to be honest.”

            Namjoon had taken to spending a significant amount of time in Jungkook’s room. He said it was because the kid had grown on him.

            You suspected it also had something to do with the fact that a certain ex-girlfriend of his was walking the halls.

            “He’s doing ok?”

            “Sounds like it. You’ll have to talk to the doctor.”

            The rest of the drive feels like it takes an eternity, but before you know it you’re pulling in to the large cabin. Yoongi’s hardly put the car into park before you’re leaping out of it, running up the steps to the front entrance. Seokjin’s there, opening it wide for you.

            “Yoongi told you?” He falls into step, keeping pace with your half-run.

            “As soon as we got into the car. He’s alright?”

            “Seems to be. He was asking for you.”

            A mixture of dread and hope form a deadly cocktail in your stomach, sending you into a full run down the hallways. Along the way you pass Hoseok and Namjoon, both of whom cheer wildly as you pass. Already the air feels alive, the world more complete because Jungkook is back in it.

            When you reach the hallway of Jungkook’s room, you don’t see anyone. The nurses must have just left, giving Jungkook his space. Seokjin hangs back, urging you forward.

            “Go on. You’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

            He doesn’t hang around long enough for you to say what’s on your mind. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath.

            The inside of Jungkook’s room is clean. Several machines stand beside the bed, the familiar sound of his heartbeat welcoming you inside. And a man, laying in the bed with his gazed turned toward the window and the snow-covered forest below.

            “Jungkook.”

            Somehow, impossibly, he hears you. His eyes are on you, a smile on his face. How many times have you imagined this same scene in the past weeks? How many times have you said his name, only to find him deep in his medically induced coma?

            “Hey.”

            His voice. It sounds like sandpaper, but it’s his.

            “You’re awake.”

            “Appears that way.”

            You take another step in, but it’s all you can manage. “You were shot.”

            He smiles ruefully. “I recall.”

            “I-” you stop, eyes snagging on something out of place. “Those flowers. Those weren’t here this morning.”

            Jungkook glances at the lilies on his side table. “Oh? Who are they from, then?” He looks back at you only to find that you haven’t moved. You’re glued to the spot, staring at the flowers. “You alright?”

            From right here in the doorway, the flowers are angled just right. The card pokes up in the front, revealing an embossed snake. Your blood runs cold as you feel the shadow of lips ghosting along your knuckles and a whispered confession.

            Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

            The Kim family crest, sitting just so in the lilies at Jungkook’s bedside. And a laugh, deranged and crooked, ripping from your chest.

next

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#bts #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fic #bts mafia au #jungkook mafia #taehyung mafia #jimin mafia #bts mafia #namjoon mafia #jhope mafia #yoongi mafia #jin mafia

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doyouhateme?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“You can’t b-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They lied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

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

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

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

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

#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric #bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts ot7 x reader #bts yandere!au #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts mafia!au #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #namjoon mafia au #yandere namjoon #yandere seokjin #jin x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi au #yandere hoseok #hoseok mafia au #hobi au #jimin x you #yandere jimin #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook mafia #yandere jungkook

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[trivia-yandere]

trivia:yandere masterlist

alternate universe (masterlist) | halloween (masterlist)| valentine's day (masterlist)

main account:explicit-tae

all of the works here will contain: (either or/sometimes both) smut, yandere themes and overall dark content that are only suitable for those who are 18+. all of our work will have warnings - if anything is uncomfortable, please click off. it's understandable that sometimes what is written can be triggering to some user - this is the first warning. request are appreciated just please allow time for it to be posted. please do not translate, repost or use any content written from this blog without permission.

ot7 | multi-member

the one that got away: (Part 2) you should've listened when you were told to stay away from the dark web. completed (taehyung x reader x jimin)

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed (jungkook x reader x namjoon)

study partner: an alternate world in which the elites rule the world and have everything at their fingertips. at a top elite college, “Study Partners” - the most desirable sexual partners around the world - are assigned to the top 10% of students with the highest grades. completed

jeon | jungkook

visions: you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go. completed

the other woman: jungkook decides it's time to take matters into his own hands and figure out how to get you - his sweet, innocent girlfriend, to fuck him. completed

paid in full: (part 1) (part 2) "all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

nefarious: you knew who jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him. part one | prequel

test your morality: jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him. completed

best friends!: jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that isn't him. completed

seonbaenim!: (idol version of best friends!) your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. One | Two

sibling rivalry: you visit your dad for a week for christmas and come face to face with your step-brother - who you've managed to avoid - again.

kim | taehyung

two sentence horror story: you ran up to the first person you saw -  a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. completed

fertile: during an annual camping trip with your parents, you venture off deep into the woods and find a man chained to a tree. completed

park | jimin

two sentence horror story: years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if one of you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other. completed

creep: park jimin had it all. he was loved throughout the world as an idol apart of one of the biggest groups. he had the popularity, respect and adoration - and a few haters; but what idol didn’t? what park jimin wasn’t expecting for was infamous blogger, Creep, to be reporting on him. completed

word is bond: in order to save your kingdom from perishing, you agree to give your body to the demon king - jimin. completed

bad decisions: you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your brides' maids and maid of honor. completed

kim | namjoon

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed

with love, k.nj: ever since you and your mother moved into this new apartment, you began receiving notes from an "admirer", all signed with initials k.nj. completed

jung | hoseok

ain't no fun: ”Hoseok wouldn’t treat me like this.” is what had Namjoon laughing in your face - because you didn’t know Hoseok like he did. But he’d let you think you did, after all, it ain’t no fun if the homies can’t have none. coming soon...

min | yoongi

dilemma: being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. completed

kim | seokjin

two sentence horror story: it’s been nearly 5 years since you last saw seokjin. completed

payment plan: your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to your brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. completed

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #mafia bts #yandere bts #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #jin smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #jimin smut #jungkook yandere #jimin yandere #jin yandere #yoongi yandere #taehyung yandere #namjoon yandere #hoseok yandere #btswriterscollective #btswritersclub #trivia:yandere masterlist #trivia:yandere #trivia-yandere #paid in full #nefarious

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the habits

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

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset

— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost

One.

Two.

Three.

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

You’re alright.

Endure it. Endure it.

It will pass.

Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.

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

Eventually.

Eventually.

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

“What are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paralyzed.

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

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

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

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

He reverted back just as you had.

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

Two little kids.

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

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

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

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

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

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

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

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

Anyone else.

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

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

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

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

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

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

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

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

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

Of a child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

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

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

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

Or rather, he was the war itself.

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

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

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

Because weapons do not weep.

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

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

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

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

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

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

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

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

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

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

He. Your father.

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

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

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

One. Two. Three…

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

.

.

.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

Under scrutiny.

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

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

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

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

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

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

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

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

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

No.

No, not at all.

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

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

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

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

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

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

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

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

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

You lie because you have to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every bit of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

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

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

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

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

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

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

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

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

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

It’s been a little over a month.

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

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

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

“..Kook.”

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

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

“Do you need something?”

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

“When are they coming?”

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

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

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

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

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

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

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

You look exhausted.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bruises?”

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

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

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

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

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Do I now?”

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

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

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

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

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

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

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

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

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

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

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

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

Feeding you to the wolves.

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

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

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

But nothing turned out alright.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then another.

Then another.

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

You don’t resist.

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

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

Vacant.

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

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

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

Jungkook wishes he could have been better.

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts mafia au #mafia!bts #bts mafia #bts mafia!au #bts poly!au #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts poly relationship #bts arranged marriage au #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #dee recs. #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #dee reblogs. #hoseok x reader #rapline x reader #hyunglinexreader #bts fanfic #mafia bts #gangster bts #yandere yoongi #yandere bts

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 20: Trapped in limbo

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 22.8k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️ warnings: lots and lots of crying; grief; medical stuff i am only pretending to understand; hidden doors; anxiety, panic, fainting, & PTSD; mention of past abuse; dream gore that borders on romantic; graphic & violent nightmares; recreational drinking & drug use (mdma, cocaine, weed); miscommunication & lack of communication due to emotional distress; smut (oral and vaginal sex; not quite somnophilia but almost; orgasm denial thanks to medication; sex while on drugs; fingering; use of restraints; a hint of booty play; cum swallowing); every smut scene is a fucking mess.

🗡️ note: grief is a deep sorrow that we experience for so many more reasons than when someone passes away. sometimes we grieve people who are still with us. other times, we grieve a relationship before it has come to an end. this chapter, and every remaining chapter of Collateral, is going to deal a lot with grief. this chapter was tough to write, and then i couldn't stop. all it was meant to be was a handful of scenes with heavy dialogue interspersed with anxiety and adjusting to medication and messy smut, and somehow we reached that bonkers word count. i didn't once stray from the outline, i am just incapable of being brief, these days. anyway, there will be some time skips/blurs because of the medication, and between one and a half and two weeks pass.

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on sept. 2023 | read on ao3

It is unclear what time you hear a knock at the door. You are unsure where your purse ended up in last night's scuffle, the hints of sun that would be visible are blocked by deep burgundy curtains, and your vision is so blurry from exhaustion and tears, that it is hard to parse whether or not there is a clock amongst all the strange antique furnishings of Seokjin and Hoseok's living room. 

The sound of footsteps scampering behind the couch, presumably from the kitchen, surprises you, and you wonder whether you truly have been awake this entire time, or somewhere in an in-between of consciousness and unconsciousness. 

Voices chatter low and hurried, and then a figure rushes over and sits at your side. It takes two heavy blinks to realize that the man settling in beside you is Taehyung dressed dapperly in all black, and when you cock your head to the right in question, his plastered smile falls into a frown.

"I'm so sorry about everything that happened," Taehyung begins. You want to shake your head and tell him that it is not his fault, but all you can bring yourself to do is stare and blink. "Let me start off by saying everyone is alive."

"Everyone," you mumble quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. With a heavy exhale, you attempt to smile. 

"Jimin was shot in the shoulder, and it was the impact of hitting the ground that knocked him out. Although he has not suffered too much blood loss, and his vitals are stable, he has not woken up, and I am unsure when we can expect him to, but there does not appear to be any brain damage."

These are a lot of words—too many words, in fact, for you to follow along with, and you simply nod. All you hold onto is the fact that Jimin is alive; for now, that is enough. 

"Yoongi," you mutter, elongating the vowels. Once more, Taehyung frowns.

"Yoongi has a gash across his eye, starting above the brow and extending to the apple of his cheek." As Taehyung describes the wound, your heart pounds, and nausea fills your insides. He continues, "But, luckily, his eyeball is intact and unharmed. There does not appear to be any vision impairment."

"How…" you begin, brow and lips falling into a frown, but the words die on your tongue. 

Taehyung says your first name, low and slow, like someone gently regarding a child. Hearing your name spoken aloud, rather than a nickname, causes the hairs on your arms to stand, and you swallow a lump of worry. 

"What do you remember, after Jimin was shot?"

You search Taehyung's face while the events return in fragments. Once Jimin fell, you reacted by shooting his assailant multiple times. At the time, you were worried—in fact, convinced—that Jimin was dead, and all you could feel in that moment was rage. Once your bullets ran out, you wanted to bash the man's face in, but you were held back. Then you took out your knife, which was pulled away from you. 

"I emptied my clip but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to stab him," you say. "The man, I mean. But my knife was taken away."

Taehyung leans close and reaches for both of your clammy hands, holding firmly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your knuckles as he speaks very softly. "When Namjoon attempted to pull your knife away, Yoongi was—" Taehyung sighs, "—he was standing too close. You and Namjoon both yanked at your arm, and in that motion, the tip of the blade sliced his face."

It takes several tense, quiet moments before anything Taehyung says fully computes. You stare at him, searching his face while the synapses fire inside your brain in an attempt to communicate what you see, feel, and hear. And then, like a thin layer of dust settling over all it can touch, the information begins to trickle down and shroud you.

"I…" you mutter, feeling tears well and fall. You have cried so much that you neither sniffle nor tremble as your cheeks grow wetter and wetter. And then, you say it. "I cut Yoongi."

"It was an accident," Taehyung is quick to add, and you rip your hands from his grasp and ball them in front of your face, feeling your chest tighten and tighten, squeezing the air out. 

This cannot be. You cannot be responsible for injuring Yoongi. How will you ever face him again, knowing what you have done?

"I'm dreaming," you mutter, suddenly feeling hysterical. Laughter works through your chest just as quickly as panic rises, and you shake your head, unable to control your emotions. "This is just a bad dream. There's no way—"

"Would you like to see him?" Taehyung asks, snapping you back to reality. 

With a sniffle, you shake your head, horrified at the prospect of facing Yoongi after what you have done. 

"How could I?" you mutter uselessly into your balled fists. "How could I face him? How could he ever look at me again?"

Again, Taehyung says your first name as he gently reaches for your hands and attempts to remove them from in front of your face. You allow him to, sighing as they fall into your lap. "It was an accident. He does not blame you. None of us do."

But you know that at least one of them does. "Jeongguk," you mutter, remembering his snarl as he told you, You've done enough.

With a sigh, Taehyung shakes his head. "Jeongguk was just scared. He was angry in the moment, but he does not hold it against you."

With a scoff, you shake your head in return; there is no way Jeongguk would forgive you so easily. It took months to get on his good side and only seconds for him to turn on you. Your voice is weak and soft as you rasp, "I doubt it."

"Come with me to the mansion," Taehyung says, sitting up and scooting a fraction of an inch closer. "Yoongi and Namjoon want to see you, and our family psychiatrist Christopher is on standby, should you need to talk to him."

"What I need is to be sedated," you grumble as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your eyes momentarily shut. "I couldn't sleep. Just kept seeing the man's head explode—the man Hoseok shot."

Taehyung's lips twitch upward as he says, "We can figure something out."

Looking down at yourself, you see Hoseok's black pajamas and sigh. "I'm keeping these," you say, resolved not to change into your dress again. 

"They're yours," Taehyung responds with a soft laugh, glancing over your shoulder for a brief moment. You wonder whether Seokjin or Hoseok are standing back there, but you also don't care enough to turn. 

"Alright," you concede with a huff and sit forward, stretching your back and letting out a deep, low yawn. "We can return to the mansion, but I'm not…I don't know how much I will be able to talk. I'm so fucking tired."

Taehyung smiles, but it does not reach his eyes. It is the smile of someone who is exhausted but pleased with the way things are going in the present moment; the smile of someone glad he does not need to convince you any further to go home. "Christopher can recommend something for you to take, and we can get you straight into bed, if you prefer."

"My purse," you grumble, looking around. 

"It was in my vehicle," Taehyung says. "I gave it to Namjoon for safekeeping."

With another nod, you shift, sitting forward, then you stretch your legs from where they had been bunched and pretzled beneath you. As you stand from the couch and stretch again—this time extending all your limbs, twisting your back, breathing deeply—it hits you that you are returning home, and anxiety swells. 

But you know that there is no way you can stay away from home. No matter how badly Yoongi has been injured, and how guilty you feel about what has happened, you need to face it. You need to return to your home, to your bed, to your men. 

"Ready?" Taehyung asks softly, rounding the couch toward the front door. 

Only then do you turn to your left and find Hoseok leaning against the banister at the bottom landing of the stairs, barely out of view from where you had been sitting. Although he smiles, it is a sad expression, and he watches you silently. 

"I'm ready," you respond, gaze lingering on Hoseok before dropping to the floor. 

Your limbs are heavy as you shuffle toward the door. On the arm of the couch, your black dress is folded neatly, and you take it in your hands, rubbing your fingers over the soft satin material. 

"Thanks for the pajamas," you say softly with a hint of a smile, doing your best at humor despite feeling lower than you think you have ever felt. 

Hoseok smiles when you glance back up and catch his eye, responding, "My pleasure. I hope the garments treat you well."

This makes you laugh, but it also forces more tears to work their way out with a soft sob and a sniffle. With an arm gently wrapped around your lower back, Taehyung guides you to the entrance, where you slip on your ballet flats, and head out the door. 

The sun is high and bright, signaling late morning, and you squint and lift your hand to block the light. To your surprise, parked beside a large black sedan is a little white golf cart, and Taehyung steers you toward it. 

"Sick ride," you grumble with an attempted grin. 

Taehyung's hand drops away as you lean forward and step into the cart, taking a seat on the little white plastic bench. It only takes a moment for Taehyung to round the front and enter, and then you are off, making your way from Hoseok's home down a short gravel and dirt road tucked away in some trees, to Yoongi's mansion. 

The driveway is packed with vehicles, making you substantially more nervous than you already had been, and you swallow thickly while attempting to steady your breathing. Rather than driving to the front door, Taehyung takes an immediate right and stops the cart on the side of the mansion. From here, there are no clear paths to the gardens or the pool, and you are confused when Taehyung gets out of the vehicle and begins to walk toward where there is a shrub wall that intersects with the side of the mansion.

It takes a moment to process the fact that you are in charge of manually moving your limbs, and with a sigh, you step out of the cart, hugging your black satin dress tight to your chest. Taehyung walks to the intersection of shrubbery and building, and then he reaches into the greenery at chest height before pushing a section of it open and revealing a hidden door. 

"I bet you have no idea how many secrets this place holds," he says with a grin, and you shake your head before scurrying after him, through the shrub-covered door. 

A narrow path between shrub wall and dark brown wood greets you, and Taehyung walks toward the back, to where a door can be found against the side of the house. He punches in a code, leans forward to scan his retina, and then twists a knob, gaining entrance. 

"Yoongi is currently meeting with the security team and some others, hence all the vehicles," Taehyung says as he holds the door open for you to enter. "They should be finished soon."

As you step inside, you are greeted by a set of stairs that travel down under the mansion. Although there is a light that Taehyung switches on, and the steps are carpeted in a welcoming royal blue, there is something so foreboding about a surprise set of stairs leading down into the earth.

"Where are we?" you ask as Taehyung closes the door tightly behind you and begins to descend on your right. You do your best to keep up, loosely holding onto a wooden railing on your left while your other hand grips your satin dress close to your chest. 

"Beside the kitchen," Taehyung responds. "Between the kitchen and living room, to be exact." 

Once you reach the basement level, Taehyung flips on another switch and turns off the stairwell light behind you. There is an large room carpeted and furnished in blues, blacks, and tans, and you are surprised as you look around at the space. It smells somewhat musty, and you wonder when the last time anyone actually came down here may have been. 

"We don't use this space anymore," Taehyung says as if reading your mind. "But when Yoongi's parents were still alive, this was where he would spend a lot of his time."

You hum and nod, glancing around further. Along a back wall is a wooden bar, now empty, but you imagine it stocked with bottles of whatever liquors a younger version of Yoongi may have liked. There are also recreational table games on the far end that look unfamiliar, as well as a pool table. A dartboard and pool cues share the same wall with the bar top, and you try to imagine Yoongi and Namjoon, and probably also Ryujin, spending their evenings down here as teenagers. 

"Our group used to come down here to party and debrief in the early days," Taehyung adds as you continue to walk through the space toward a door along the wall ahead. "But that was before Yoongi owned hotels, casinos, nightclubs, and all that."

"Oh," you mutter, trying to imagine a Yoongi who did not own half of Seoul. You wonder how much of his empire he inherited from his father versus how much of it he built himself. 

You almost feel remorse over never knowing that side of Yoongi—a younger man who was not so tied down to his duties as a mafia king. But then you remember the scars along his sides, chest, and stomach, and you wonder whether there was ever a carefree man in Yoongi's skin. 

"Just a little further," Taehyung says, holding his hand up toward the door at the far end. 

"Where does this lead to?" you ask. 

"We are going to go up one more set of steps and end up on the other end of the hall, " Taehyung explains, voice soft, deep, and measured. "From there, we will tip-toe up the stairs and wait for Yoongi and Namjoon. Although this is the scenic route, I thought having to walk through the front door might be too stressful for you. I also thought it would be in your best interest to become well acquainted with these more hidden parts of the home."

This gives you pause, and you stumble on your next step ever so slightly, catching the toe of your right ballet flat against the soft carpet beneath. "Oh?"

With a soft sigh, Taehyung stops and turns to you, and you halt, doing the same. 

"Just in case," he says, regarding you with a hint of a frown. "I don't want to worry you or anything…but I feel like these are secrets you should know because, well, you never know."

The two of you stand facing one another for several quiet seconds, and then you nod and heavy-blink, turning your attention back toward the door. Everything feels so ominous, even simple gestures of kindness, and you attempt to swallow down the fact that this is your reality. 

"Thank you," you mutter quietly, clearing your throat to speak more clearly as you glance at Taehyung once again. "I appreciate it."

Taehyung cracks a smile, then holds his hand out to the door, sing-songing a corny, "Ladies first," and you chuckle, hesitating before reaching for the knob and turning it. It opens to another dark stairwell, and Taehyung steps forward and rubs along the wall before light illuminates the narrow space. You note that the light switches seem to be along the same wall on both ends of the room, just in case the information may one day come in handy.

As you begin to ascend, Taehyung closes the door behind you and steps in line to your right. You make your way further up, closer to your destination, and your heart begins to pound. Faced with the opportunity of seeing Yoongi and Namjoon again has you feeling so many ways, and they all swirl uncomfortably in your gut. You know they are likely not angry with you…but what if they are?

Rather than go straight up, this stairwell stops halfway and curves around, much like a standard building stairwell, only carpeted. At the top of the stairs, Taehyung reaches in front of you and very gently, slowly pulls on a large metal handle. 

He opens the door just as slowly, and you realize that he must be attempting to be as silent as possible. Although you are unable to detect any sound coming from whoever must be meeting in the main hall, you are surprised that Taehyung is going to such great lengths to be silent. 

Or maybe, you consider, he is not doing this because he feels you need to be silent in this moment. Maybe Taehyung is doing this to show you just how silent this door is so that you can store the information for later. Although you certainly feel paranoid for considering the notion, it does make sense that he would both reveal a somewhat secret passage to you and showcase just how secret it may be. 

And you nearly question how secretive a door presumably at the end of a hallway could possibly be, until you step out into a room that is certainly not the hallway, and Taehyung closes a panel of wall that does not look at all like a door. His fingers pass over a section along the very well-concealed crack about chest height and press in. Silently, the door unlatches and pushes forward, and you watch with your mouth hanging agape as he demonstrates opening and closing it. 

The dining room you stand in is the larger of the two. During your tour with Felix and Changbin all that time ago, you never came to this room. It was simply described as the much larger one at the end of the hall.

The scale of this room is rather enormous. It appears as if more than twenty people could sit around the long dark wood table, and the décor is very similar to the smaller room—brown leather-topped chairs with intricately carved patterns, dark wood wainscoting and blood-red wallpaper, with brass sconces and crystal chandeliers. 

You stand in the far corner along the wall containing the entrance, which is mid-way through the room, to the right. The door hangs open, and now you can hear the faint voices of men coming from down the hallway. As you step out, you realize you are at the very end of the hall. Ordinarily, this door is closed, and it is one you had never considered going into, before. 

"Come, now," Taehyung says quietly, toeing out of his shoes and bending to pick them up. 

You do the same and scurry ahead as he begins to make his way toward the large stairwell ahead and to the right. Now that you are in a part of the mansion that feels like home, your nervousness turns to nausea. 

Taehyung is no longer attempting to be silent, and he walks ahead, seemingly blocking you from the view of others as he waves to the men from over the banister of the stairwell and then straightens out. You have no desire to be perceived in any way just yet, so you prance up to the landing on your tiptoes. Listen as you try, you do not hear a familiar voice speaking. 

"Should I join you for the time being?" Taehyung asks as you reach the top, and you turn toward the master suite, swallowing thickly. 

"Yes, please," you mutter, somewhat embarrassed by how small you sound.

A warm, gentle hand rubs over the small of your back, and it is all the encouragement you need to continue forward. Although you cannot confidently guess how the others must feel about you at the present moment, you are at least grateful to have an ally in Taehyung. 

The two of you drop your shoes outside the bedroom door, and you walk ahead into the space that you have come to know as your haven. Floral and musk are light in the air, but you can only detect traces of Yoongi and Namjoon lingering. 

Taehyung walks ahead, straight to the sofa, and he reaches for the remote. It is so casual and domestic that when he turns to you with a soft smile and pats the cushion beside him, a wide, happy grin tugs at the ends of your lips. 

"I heard you like Ghibli films," Taehyung says as you walk over, and as soon as you plop down to his left, he swings his legs up onto the cushion and leans ever so slightly closer. His scent is subdued, but it is the spicy, earthy blend you remember from the night he carried you close to his chest.

"I do," you respond, staring ahead at the black screen of the television while attempting to get your bearings.

"Which have you seen, so far?"

You think back to the private jets, to Yoongi and Namjoon, and also to Jimin. Your lips fall to a frown before you school your expression and wet your lips. 

“Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away,” you respond. “And part of Princess Mononoke, but we fell asleep.”

Taehyung shifts beside you excitedly, lifting the remote and clicking through menus as he says, “Princess Mononoke is my favorite.”

This calm, gentle side of Taehyung might just be your favorite. While snarky Taehyung has been entertaining and quite suggestive, mafia Taehyung has been deadly and protective, and doctor Taehyung has been an actual savior to the family and to you so many times, this Taehyung is patient and considerate. This is the same Taehyung who held you gently in his arms to take you to a bath and to check in to make sure you still felt comfortable and safe with everything that had transpired in his sex room. This Taehyung feels like a friend.

"How long will they all be meeting?" you blurt as Taehyung finds the title and presses play. 

He shifts forward to set the remote onto the table and then sits back, placing his hand upright and wiggling his fingers. You take the invitation and slowly lower your hand into his, which he gently caresses with his fingertips. A voiceover introduces the film, but Taehyung does not seem to care about pausing or lowering the volume. 

"Hard to say," he responds softly, eyes on the foggy opening scene. "When I came to get you, they were still pretty deep into their conversation. Things like this can sometimes take all day."

"All day," you mutter unhappily under your breath. Sure, you may worry about seeing Yoongi and Namjoon, but not seeing them fills you with the same amount of angst. 

Taehyung sighs, and rather than continue delicately playing with your hand, he grabs it and twines his fingers between yours. The gesture makes you frown despite how warm your chest becomes. 

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling,” he says, eyes still on the screen but inattentive. Perhaps this is his way of consoling someone; perhaps, for once, direct eye contact is too much for him. 

You scoff slightly and shrug, looking down at your hands. “I’m not really sure how I’m feeling,” you admit. 

Taehyung shifts beside you, and you turn to look at him. His eyes are wide and caring, and they peer straight into your heart. All at once, you feel shy, and you rip your gaze away, to the wall just below the television as you realize he was likely not avoiding eye contact for his sake but for yours. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly, filling you to the brim with sadness. 

You heavy-blink and attempt not to cry, muttering, “I injured someone I love. What’s there to talk about?”

Taehyung is quick to say, "It was an accident," but not in a way that is placating or defensive. 

"Accident or not," you begin, eyes falling to your entwined hands as you imagine all the ways in which you have caused Yoongi harm with one simple accident. With a sigh, you continue, feeling the tremble that works its way through your words. "What if I had blinded him? Or cut him somewhere life-threatening? I could have caused so much harm, I could have—"

"But you didn't," Taehyung interrupts insistently. "You did none of those things. And dwelling on all the what-ifs is not going to do you any good."

Taehyung is correct, and you are thankful for his calm, assuring presence. "I know," you utter, defeated. 

Sure, it does no good to dwell on all the possibilities, but knowing that does not make it any easier not to. 

"You've been through a lot in these past couple of months," Taehyung speaks over the movie, eyes once again watching as characters move across the screen. You see light, movement, and color, but you do not fully register anything taking place. You are not sure you could if you tried. 

As Taehyung's words settle over you, you scoff, muttering, "That's a fucking understatement."

To your surprise, Taehyung chuckles softly. Barely any sound emits, but you can feel the rise and fall of his shoulders beside you. Although levity is nice, you cannot ignore the glaring truth. 

"Is it always this way?" you ask. 

This is not the first time you have asked a question like this, but you feel the need to, anyway. And when silence hangs between the two of you, speaking volumes louder than anything Taehyung could offer, unease settles deep. 

With a sigh, you close your eyes, feeling tears build. And when you admit aloud, "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this," you feel the grip on your hand loosen and then tighten.

"Do what?" Taehyung asks, although you cannot imagine he requires prompting; Taehyung knows damn well what about this situation you cannot withstand. He has been present for each moment during which your foundation has been forced to crack little by little. 

"All of this," you respond through another sigh. You pull your hand away from Taehyung's and lift your feet to the cushion, wrapping your arms around your shins and resting your forehead in the valley between your knees. 

"I love Yoongi," you mutter into the small space that warms with each of your exhales. "And Namjoon, and to an extent, all of you. But this lifestyle is killing me, and I can't take it anymore."

"Killing you?" Taehyung asks somewhat teasingly, making you crack a smile over your dramatics. 

You lift your head just enough to turn and face him, returning his fond smile with a weak one. "Emotionally, yes. I feel like I am dying."

Taehyung's smile only dips some, but his eyes remain just as bright. "Trauma tends to make us feel heavy or a little numb, but it will all pass."

"I don't want that," you bite back, feeling a burst of annoyance. "I just want to live a normal fucking life. How hard is that?"

This time, when Taehyung laughs, the sound is deep, playful, and perhaps a little mocking. "What the fuck is a normal life?" he asks, sounding just a bit defensive. 

"I don't know," you admit. "Something that does not involve gunfire and hard drugs. I can't keep watching men die. And I can't keep watching as my loved one get injured."

Taehyung opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes drift up and widen. His posture shifts, sitting up only slightly taller, and you hesitate before turning, scared of who you might find. 

"Knock, knock," Namjoon calls, and your heart kicks up hard and fast between your ribs. 

All trepidation you may have felt about seeing him melts, and you throw your legs to the floor and stand-spin with such a start it makes you dizzy. Namjoon stands in the doorway with a loving smile, wearing a black tee tucked into black jeans—surprisingly casual, considering he seems to have come from an important meeting. His hands, which are in his front pockets, slide out, and he lifts his arms high, asking without words for a hug. 

You run over on bare feet and hop up, throwing yourself into Namjoon's chest as your arms wrap around his neck. He bends and holds you in a tight, firm hug, groaning softly against your forehead as he squeezes and releases. 

"Moments away from you always feel like a lifetime," Namjoon utters softly, tugging at your heart and ripping the air from your lungs. You wish he wouldn't say shit like this. 

"I missed you too," is all you can bring yourself to say, and as he releases from the hug, you slide your hands to his chest, gently grip at his shirt, and bury your face against him, breathing in his scent and blocking out the rest of the world. 

The way Namjoon rubs his hands over your shoulders and arms, giving gentle squeezes, feels like gestures of impatience and makes you think he would like you to stop this sorry attempt at an embrace, but you hold on tight and close your eyes even tighter, silently insisting on just a little while longer. 

"Are you watching Princess Mononoke?" Namjoon asks over your head, resting his chin against you. 

"Watching is a strong word," Taehyung responds in the teasing tone you have come to expect but have not heard from him yet today. "Doll was mostly sitting here being sulky."

"Wow!" you respond defensively, finally releasing your hold on Namjoon to turn and glare at your so-called friend who stares back with a wide, playful grin. 

Gently, Namjoon places the side of his finger under your chin and motions for you to turn to him. "There you are," he utters sweetly as you meet his gaze.

Your heart sinks as you take in his sweet, welcoming expression. Namjoon, standing here like this, is the epitome of love, and all you can think about is how badly you need to get away from the lifestyle he is a part of before you have to watch another one of your closest friends get shot. 

Namjoon's smile falters, and he cocks his head so slightly, it is hardly a movement. Anguish rises, and you swallow it down, then make your best attempt at a smile. 

"I'm sorry," you utter weakly, nibbling on the inside of your lip as you attempt to sort out what exactly you want to apologize for this time. "I, uh…I don't feel very good. I don't want to…I'm scared to…"

See Yoongi. 

No matter how many ways you attempt to formulate precisely how you feel, there is no way to finish that sentence, and you close your eyes in time for tears to break. 

How many more times are you going to feel hopeless and sad over Yoongi? How many times will Namjoon have to console the two of you? You are certain that the two of them—that everyone in this family—would be better off if you were not here. Clearly, this lifestyle does not affect them the way it does you, and there will only be so much that they will be able to tolerate until you become more of a burden than you are worth. 

"Don't want to, what?" Namjoon asks gently, hands rubbing from the tops of your shoulders down to your elbows and back up. 

"What if he hates me?" you mutter, tears becoming hot streams pouring down your cheeks. 

Namjoon chuckles, and you frown; now is not the time for him to be making fun of you. But his voice is soft and kind as he asks, "Sweetheart, how many times are we going to have to go over this?"

Although you know his question comes with good intentions, it only makes you feel worse. Because yes, indeed, how many times are the three of you going to have to go over this? How many times is Yoongi's lifestyle going to cause crushing grief and sadness? How many fucking times are you going to have to fear facing him? 

It's not fair. None of this is fair. 

"Yoongi is not upset with you, or with me," Namjoon insists. "So we gave him a little cut, so what? He already has plenty of scars."

"That's not—" the point, you fail to say. "I don't want—how can I look at him knowing I've given him a scar?"

Bile rises, and you feel sick. All you can picture is blood seeping from between Yoongi's fingers, blood splattering against concrete, blood staining all of your hopes and dreams a deep, menacing red. 

Taking two steps back and spinning to rejoin Taehyung on the couch, the blood seems to leave your head, causing you to wobble on your feet and crash back against Namjoon. The room is stilted and tilts to a fro, and you swallow a lump, closing your eyes tight while two warm hands steady you by the arms.

"Sweetheart?" Namjoon asks, but his voice is too distant, and although you know that he is directly behind you, holding onto you, you fear that if you responded, he would be too far away to hear you. 

Firmly, Taehyung says your first name, hand holding your jaw at an upward angle while your limbs sink heavily into the couch. When did you approach the couch?

"I'm gonna…" you mutter, mouth dry and full of cotton, body feeling a million miles away from your head as you feel the urge to faint. You attempt to look around, but light and shadow only trail and smudge uselessly. You feel like you are going to be sick, and you squeeze your eyes closed.

When you open your eyes again, you are lying on the couch, on your back. Your lower legs are propped up by pillows, and a violent shiver rocks through you.

"Ah, here you are," Taehyung says, and you turn to find him sitting on the floor beside you. His kind, disarming smile returns as he says, "You fainted, buttercup. How are you feeling?"

Sweat covers you from head to toe, making you cold and clammy and uncomfortable. "Shitty," you reply. 

"Hmm, yes, fainting takes a toll on the entire body. But at least you are shitty and alert." Taehyung holds up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Your voice is rough as you croak, "Three."

"Very good," Taehyung responds, reaching to give your cheek a tiny pinch, which you attempt to flinch away from. 

It occurs to you only now that you neither see nor hear Namjoon. When you look around for him, Taehyung softly clears his throat, pulling your attention back to find him frowning. 

"They left the room."

"They…" you begin, watching as Taehyung tongues the inside of his mouth.

"Namjoon seems to think you don't want to see Yoongi. And Yoongi…well, he's not too pleased."

"Oh."

Taehyung sits up a little higher on his knees, and in a rare moment of uncertainty, he knits his brow. "What I mean to say is, his feelings were hurt. But he isn't angry."

"No, no," you mutter, rolling onto your side and pulling your knees as high as they can go. "I get it."

"The thing is," Taehyung continues, "Yoongi has to leave town for a little while."

At this, you flinch, attempting to quickly sit up. "Wait, where? For how long?"

"He didn't say."

Although you know Yoongi is not present in this room, you look around and ask, "Has he left already?"

Taehyung frowns once more. "I'm not sure, but I don't think so."

Everything is happening too quickly, and you brace yourself to get your bearings and steady your pounding heart as you slowly stand from the couch onto your feet. Taehyung raises and holds his hands out as an offer to assist, should you need it. 

"You good?" he asks, and although you do not feel a modicum of anything you would consider good, you nod and slowly turn toward the door. 

And then you run. Your feet are sweaty and they slide against the floor, but you push forward as hard as you can, ignoring the whorl of nausea in your guts. Once at the door, you shove at it with all your strength, and when it flies open, revealing Yoongi and Namjoon standing close, muttering sweetly, you gasp; you were not expecting to find the two of them this easily. 

Namjoon stands to the left, gently cradling Yoongi's chin with both hands, and Yoongi stares up at him, hands lifted to Namjoon's sides. In contrast to Namjoon's more casual attire, Yoongi is in his usual black button-up and black slacks. 

You mutter, "Yoo—" and halt in place when he turns his attention to you, smile faltering as his one visible eye holds you in its gaze. 

Although Yoongi's hair is down and wild, you can see the black eyepatch covering his other eye. Above the patch are little black stitches that rise up to his forehead, and you worry you might faint once more. 

"Darling," Yoongi says, dropping his arms from Namjoon's sides to fully face you. 

Namjoon's hands only fall to Yoongi's shoulders, and the look he gives you is indiscernible and a little cold. You feel childish and small standing before them in Hoseok's pajamas, which are a little too big.

"I'm sorry," is all you can say as your right leg twitches in an attempt to continue forward, held back by the full-body weight of your fear. 

"I'm so glad you're awake," Yoongi says as he smiles. The ends of his mouth flinch twice, and you wonder just how forced his smile is. "Taehyung said you fainted."

You hum and nod in quick, shallow movements. All you want to do, in this moment, is run. Run toward Yoongi, but also run far, far away, and never look back—run and run until your lungs threaten to explode. But you stand paralyzed in the doorway of Yoongi's bedroom, staring at the two men who seem intent on keeping their distance.

"Where are you going?" you manage to ask, swallowing a ball of saliva and anxiety. 

Yoongi hesitates, and as Namjoon drops his arms from his shoulders, Yoongi straightens his posture and slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

When was the last time Yoongi has held this much distance? When has Yoongi been this reserved and shut away? You regret not wanting to see him before, and now that he is holding so much space between the two of you, you cannot, for the life of you, move your feet forward. 

"I have important business," Yoongi simply says, licking his lips and saying no more. 

"Ah—are you…will you be gone long?" you try, chest trembling and terrified. 

Yoongi merely shrugs. "Hard to say."

"Oh."

Yoongi stares a moment longer, back tall and straight and hands tucked away. The hair on the left side of his face falls slightly over his eye, encasing the eyepatch in a dark shadow, making him appear far more dangerous than he already is. 

And then, as if a switch is flipped, his shoulders relax, his smile softens, and he pulls his hands from his pockets. You let out a deep, shaky exhale and silently beg him to step toward you. 

"I'll miss you," you try, knitting your brows in desperation. 

Yoongi smiles widely and finally takes a step. "I will miss you, as well," he says as he closes the distance, and all at once, your legs turn to gelatin and wobble beneath you before stepping forward. 

You all but throw yourself into Yoongi's embrace, body sagging and crashing into him as he wraps his arms around you, pinning yours uselessly to your sides. Yoongi's musk is strong and overwhelming, and you nuzzle against his chest and neck, breathing deeply enough to choke on it. 

"I'm sorry," you mutter into him, feeling tears well once more. "I'm so sorry, Yoongi."

Yoongi whispers, "Shhh," as his hands rub over your back, and you lift your hands just enough to let your fingers catch at the fabric around his hips. 

"I'm sorry I have to leave so abruptly," Yoongi says, "but the guys here will take good care of you. I shouldn't be long."

"Please be safe," you beg, horrified of what could happen to him while he is away. 

"I have a team coming along to look after me," Yoongi says. "But I can assure you, I will be fine. I can't say much for now, but I will be meeting with the Hong Kong crew, and we will be working on a deal of sorts so that an attack like that will not happen again."

"A deal? In…in Hong Kong?" 

Yoongi releases the hug and takes a small step back, then lifts one hand to the bottom of your chin. Looking up into his one eye makes your heart squeeze, but even with an eyepatch covering the other, he is the prettiest man alive. 

"Please don't beat yourself up with worry while I'm away," he mutters sweetly. "I'm not upset with you. Had I gotten to that man before you, I would have done far worse to him for hurting one of my best friends. And besides," Yoongi chuckles softly, tilting his head to the side, "this is going to make for an amazing story when Jimin wakes up."

"Stop," you grumble, lifting your hands to shove at Yoongi's sides, but not hard enough to make him do more than sway. 

"You are so brave," Yoongi says, smile widening. "You shot that man right between the eyes. And I know it had to have been traumatic and horrendous, but I'm still proud of you."

As it stands, watching the man who hurt Jimin die by your bullet is so low on the list of traumatic events that play through your mind. Perhaps you have compartmentalized the event, and once the dust settles and Jimin wakes back up, you will begin to fully process the weight of the event. Or, perhaps you are already becoming as numb to being a killer as the rest of the family. 

"Did it hurt?" you ask, feeling the urge to lift the patch and see his wound.

Yoongi shrugs. "Nah, my adrenaline was so high, I didn't feel a thing. I had no idea I was cut until the blood began to cloud my vision."

The thought of Yoongi's beautiful face dripping with blood makes your stomach churn, and you mutter, "Oh my god."

"It only hurt a little while Tae was stitching me up."

"Why the eyepatch?" you ask, despite feeling nervous to know the answer. But you were told that Yoongi's vision had not been altered.

"Taehyung felt that the stitches along my eyebrow and lid would heal faster if my eye remained closed as often as possible."

Again, your stomach tosses. Did he say lid? As in his eyelid?

"Oh."

"And it makes me look cool, right?" Yoongi adds, waggling his one good eye, making you laugh despite how sad the entire situation feels. "Don't worry, darling. I couldn't dream of being upset with you two."

You exhale deeply and wrap your arms around Yoongi's ribs, throwing yourself once more into his chest. Yoongi chuckles deeply and drapes his arms over you, cradling your head and shoulder gently in his large, warm, familiar hands. 

"I won't be gone long," Yoongi insists, pressing a kiss against your temple. "But I will miss you deeply while I am away. So please text me as much as you want to, alright?"

"Alright," you respond, feeling tears build once more. Yoongi insists he will return safely but you fear for the worst; how could you not?

"Seokjin and Hoseok will be coming with me, which leaves Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jeongguk here with you. We have shut down Paradise for the time being, and there will be a strong security detail on the property, but don't feel like you have to stay cooped up inside. The streets of Seoul are safe."

"Hmm," you utter, finding it hard to believe him. But you do not press him. Yoongi said he would reveal more about what deal he has struck once he returns home. 

A single-note ringtone chimes loudly, and Yoongi lets out a deep sigh, wrapping his arms tightly around you. 

"That's Seokjin," Namjoon says, and you remember that Namjoon has been standing here the entire time, causing guilt to pang within your guts. 

"Time to go," Yoongi mutters sadly against your temple, attempting to pull from the hug, only for you to squeeze tighter. Yoongi chuckles as he adds, "I'll be home before you know it."

"I miss you," you complain, overwhelmed with sadness. You are so sick and fucking tired of crying, but more than that, you are tired of missing Yoongi.

This time, when Yoongi pulls away, you allow it, tilting your head to slot your lips together. Yoongi holds steady against you, kissing slow and sweet and only skirting his tongue across your bottom lip after several long, warm seconds. You sigh, dropping your mouth open, but Yoongi kisses your temple and backs up further, giving your arms a squeeze before releasing you. 

"I love you, darling," he says, and your heart sinks as you all but whisper, "I love you, too."

Yoongi spins on his feet and takes two steps to Namjoon, giving him a chaste kiss and muttering something deep and indiscernible. Namjoon responds with, "Of course, baby," and then Yoongi leaves, taking the steps two at a time without turning back. 

Something feels off, but you are too exhausted to dwell on it, so you turn your attention to the man who is still around, stepping forward and reaching for him. Only Namjoon takes a step back, halting your movements as he clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. 

"Sorry," he says, eyes on the floor and not on you. "I just need a moment. I'll be back."

Without another word, Namjoon runs down the stairs, and you watch as he disappears around the banister, toward the front door. Your right arm is slightly lifted, hovering near the empty space Namjoon had just occupied. 

As the seconds tick by, you struggle to fully comprehend what is happening. Clearly, both Yoongi and Namjoon are upset about something, whether that upset is directed at you or not, and they are not doing the best job of convincing you that things are fine. And, truth be told, you do not need everything to be completely fine. But you expect them to be honest with you, or at the very least, to not shut you out. 

Your hand drops to your side, and you spin on the balls of your feet, listlessly allowing your arms to fan out in the motion, making your way back to Yoongi's bedroom. Rather than return to Taehyung and Princess Mononoke, you hang a left toward the large window that overlooks the front driveway. 

Standing forehead to forehead, Namjoon's face is angled just slightly, looking down at Yoongi, whose expression is somewhat unreadable with his eyepatch. He appears to be smiling as they kiss, and the urge to cry increases. You remind yourself that the two of them share a past and that they deserve tender moments without your presence, despite how badly you wish to be included. 

"Everything alright?" Taehyung calls, and you sniffle, blinking away the tears that threaten to break. 

As you turn to face him, you take a deep, fortifying breath and nod, doing your best to smile. Your had been balling your fists inside the long sleeves of the pajama shirt, and you open and close them, wiggling your fingers as if attempting to release tension from your limbs. 

"I guess so," you admit, not fully willing to say yes or no.

"I imagine Namjoon is trying to convince Yoongi that he should go along," Taehyung says. "He always does."

"Ah," you respond; that does make sense.

"The two of them used to be inseparable and now Namjoon seems to get separation anxiety easily."

You begin to return to the couch, feeling somewhat lighter. Of course, Namjoon would want to join Yoongi on whatever this trip is; it sounds like it might be a big deal. "He should go."

Taehyung hums and regards you quietly, then pats the cushion where you had been previously sitting before he returns to watching the movie. With a little more pep in your step, you join him, plopping down on the couch as you sigh and swing your legs up to the left so you can lean your head against his shoulder. 

Although you watch the screen, nothing fully registers. Only Taehyung's warmth and gentle musk hit your senses and linger. Briefly, you even close your eyes. 

Outside, vehicle doors shut, and the metal gate scrapes open. Moments later, two heavy feet stomp up the stairs and into the bedroom. You keep your head on Taehyung's shoulder but open your eyes, watching a confrontation between the two lead characters on screen while Namjoon comes into view in your periphery. 

"Mind if I join you?" Namjoon asks, and you shrug, offering a brief smile while you say, "Sure."

Namjoon walks in front of the television, rounding the small wooden table in front of the sofa, then plops down at Taehyung's right. Although you keep your eyes ahead, gaze barely on the actual movie, you can see and feel Taehyung lifting his arm and shifting his legs to accommodate Namjoon curling up to his side. 

"How did I get stuck with the children?" he teases as his left arm gently wraps around your hip. 

You smile, unable to hold back a little chuckle. "Pure luck, obviously."

"What's the other child up to, today?" Namjoon asks. 

Taehyung asks, "Jeongguk?" and Namjoon hums. 

"He's become obsessed with working out again."

"He doesn't wanna join us?" Namjoon asks. 

Taehyung sighs. "He likely will eventually, but I think he's struggling to deal with everything that has happened. With Jimin in a coma and Paradise temporarily closed, he feels directionless. And, of course, he worries about Jimin." Taehyung squeezes your side as he adds, "He also feels guilty for taking his anger out on you that night."

Jeongguk undoubtedly did appear angry, but considering the circumstances, you can hardly say you blame him. You suppose you are willing to accept that Jeongguk may not be upset with you.

"I get it," you mutter, letting your gaze drop to the wall below the television. "I don't think any of us were in our right minds."

Seconds pass, then Taehyung quietly adds, "He will be very happy to know how you feel."

As the three of you sit and watch the film, your eyelids grow heavy, and it takes almost no time at all for you to fall back asleep.

The events of last night play in your mind once more, and as soon as the man's head explodes from Hoseok's shotgun shell, you flinch awake, gasping for air. As the room comes into focus, you realize you are lying on the large sofa with Namjoon, who is behind you with his head propped up onto his hand, watching television. You sigh into wakefulness, heavy-blinking and yawning, and Namjoon pauses whatever drama he has put on and gently wraps an arm over your hip. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he says just above your ear, and you groan as you stretch your legs out, then begin to wiggle around until you are facing him. 

Namjoon still wears the black tee, and you reach up and gently trace along the exposed skin of his bicep with your fingertips, playing with the hem of his sleeve. 

"What time is it?" you ask, staring up into Namjoon's warm, dark eyes. 

"Evening," he responds, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. "You knocked out."

"Did Taehyung go home?"

Namjoon nods, humming, "Mmhmm. Christopher wanted to meet with him, and check in on Jeongguk."

"Surprised I slept that long," you grumble, feeling another yawn work its way through your chest. "I keep dreaming about last night."

"Taehyung mentioned he would speak with Christopher about sleep aids. I am always happy to supply Xanax if needed."

Although you are unsure whether you want to create a dependence on Xanax to get you through the night, the prospect of getting restful, dreamless sleep is wonderful. 

"That would be nice," you say, burying your face against Namjoon's chest. 

You half expect Namjoon to continue watching his show, but silence hangs as he settles his head down onto a pillow and wraps both arms around you with the bottom one sliding under your neck. 

"Sorry if I seemed a little cold earlier," Namjoon finally says. "Letting Yoongi leave on his own when we are in the midst of a showdown between both families is just…a lot. I know he's a grown adult and can take care of himself, but I also hate not being able to be there."

Just as Taehyung had said.

"Why didn't you go with him?"

Namjoon seems to hesitate and then says, “He asked me to stay with you.”

“Oh.”

“I don't mean to suggest that I don’t want to be here with you,” Namjoon adds quickly, and although you believe him, it is clear that he would rather be by Yoongi’s side. 

“I get it,” you say, feeling no need for Namjoon to explain himself. “But you could have gone with him,” you add, feeling Namjoon stiffen. 

The air feels tense and awkward, but you make no move to give either of you space. Even if Namjoon would rather be comforting Yoongi, you still crave his warmth. 

“I guess what I mean to say,” you continue, “is that I have the others here, too. Of course, nobody compares to you and Yoongi, but if you need to be by his side, I’m happy here with Taehyung and Jeongguk. Don’t feel obligated to babysit me.”

Namjoon scoots back, and you look up to find a somewhat angry, sad expression on his face. "Why would you say it like that?"

Without thinking, you roll your eyes, watching as his eyes go wider before you add, "You know what I meant."

"You think that the only reason I am here is because I feel the need to coddle you?"

Your patience is wearing thin, and despite finally getting a little sleep, you feel far too tired to be bickering with him over something like this. 

"Namjoon—"

"No, don't Namjoon me. I'm not your fucking babysitter, I'm your partner. I'm here with you because I enjoy being with you."

"You're here with me because Yoongi asked you to be," you clarify, speaking from his earlier words. "Which is fine, I don't mind that being the case. But if you're going to be miserable with worry, you may as well have joined him."

Namjoon sighs and begins to pull away entirely in an attempt to sit up. Feeling resolved, you slightly roll away, giving him space to do so. You are not, however, willing to let him walk away before you are done speaking your mind. 

"It's fine if you want to go with him, and I don't understand why you chose not to. You and Yoongi have a history, and I get that. Not everything you do will include me."

Namjoon sits sideways with his legs outstretched because you have not bothered to move in any way that will actually allow him to escape easily. You prop your head up on your hand with your elbow bent against the pillow and watch as Namjoon's expression oscillates from frustrated to contemplative. 

Finally, Namjoon speaks up, voice sounding small as he says, "If you don't want me around, just say so."

At this you huff, drop your hand and head to the pillow, and begin to roll away, letting your leg drape over the edge of the couch before you steady yourself enough to sit up. Namjoon has not moved, and you are in no mood to face him. It feels like anything you say will be bent to suit whatever this emotional streak of Namjoon's is, and you do not have the energy to play along. 

But then petulance rises, and you stare at the dark blue fabric of the sofa beneath you as you say, "I wanted you around last night. And Yoongi. But I was shut out, and now he's gone."

"Sweetheart—" Namjoon begins, and you shove what is left of the cream-colored blanket that covers your legs, eager to get it the fuck off you as you stand and disregard him.

"I don't want to talk anymore," you grumble as you make your way to the ensuite. 

You never bothered to wash your face or tend to your hair after last night, and you decide in this moment that you would like to shower. For all you know, the blood of some unknown dead man could be on you. 

To your surprise, Namjoon says nothing. You don't bother closing the door behind you as you begin to strip from your borrowed black pajamas and find a fluffy white towel which you hang on a hook beside the shower door. Not bothering to close this door either, you walk to the back wall of the shower and turn it on, feeling a cold blast of water that quickly turns scathing hot before you turn the nob and make it a more reasonable hot.

Although your movements are slow, you take care of your hair and wash your body, standing still periodically with your face tilted up to let the water rinse over you. You know that whatever this tiff you have with Namjoon is, you will need to talk about it at some point. You just wish that things could be calm and easy, in the meantime. After last night, you desperately need things to be calm and easy. 

Finally, when you are just about to shut the water off and get out, you hear a belt buckle hitting the tile floor, followed by a quieter sound of a soft garment being dropped alongside it. Your pulse quickens, but you do your best to seem unaffected by Namjoon's presence—at least until you are able to gauge what kind of a mood he is in. 

"Mind if I join you?" Namjoon asks, voice soft and calm—deep.

You turn just enough to find him standing in the doorway nude, and you rove your eyes down past his pecs and tummy—along the curves and scales of his dragon tattoo—to his glorious thighs and the thick cock that hangs heavy between them.

"Be my guest," you respond with a shrug, feigning nonchalance as you turn back to the stream of water.

Namjoon enters and begins to wash his hair. He uses the tangerine shampoo that reminds you of Yoongi, then he slathers a cloth with the same citrus floral soap that also reminds you of Yoongi. You have no reason to linger in the shower, but Namjoon is close, the steam filling the room leaves you a bit dizzy, and you are touch-starved. 

"Baby," you mutter, turning to lean your back against the cool tile wall and get out of the hot stream of water. 

Namjoon is washing his legs, bent in half, and he looks up with wide eyes. There are so many things you want to say and ask for and command, but all that falls from your lips is, "I miss you."

Namjoon cracks a smile, then he bends further to finish washing his ankles and one foot after the other. And then he straightens out, chucks the cloth to the side, and steps forward, into the stream of water, pausing a moment to rinse. 

"I miss you, too," he says with his eyes closed and face tilted up against the stream, rubbing his hands over his hair and causing a waterfall of suds to cascade over him. 

Feeling overcome with emotion and resolved to put whatever transpired earlier behind you, for the sake of your sanity if nothing more, you reach out toward Namjoon, who is close enough that you are able to graze your fingertips over his tummy. 

"Let's just…not argue, okay?" you practically plead. "We've both been through a lot. We need each other."

Namjoon continues to rinse off a moment longer, then he steps through the stream and looms over you, dripping wet with a blazing fire in his dark eyes. His voice is deep and insistent as he says, "You have me, sweetheart."

"Dizzy," you mutter, reaching to trace your fingertips listlessly over his skin. "Let's get out."

Namjoon nods and shuts the water off, then he leans in close and presses his body against yours, capturing your lips with his. When was the last time you and Namjoon kissed? It feels like a lifetime ago, despite it probably only being last night, and you sigh into the feeling, overcome with a surge of affection. 

His movements are languid and firm, pressing and claiming but in no hurry. You grab Namjoon's ribs with both palms and gently squeeze at his skin and muscle, rubbing slowly, allowing your eyes to flutter closed. 

As soon as all you see is darkness, the images return in quick, nauseating succession. A man's head explodes from Hoseok's shotgun shell and another from your bullets, turning into red and brown and greyish-pink mush against concrete. Blood seeps from between Yoongi's fingers, and you gasp, opening your eyes and mouth wide as your hands hover at Namjoon's sides. 

"Sweetheart—"

"I'm sorry," you sob, hot tears pouring from your eyes as the black and gold bathroom returns to view and Namjoon's dripping wet honey skin greets you. "I can't—every time I close my eyes, I see—I'm sorry."

"Shhh," Namjoon whispers, wrapping his arms around your head and shoulders and pulling you close, engulfing you in wet warmth. "It's okay, don't apologize."

"I feel like I'm going insane. I can't keep reliving this."

"Want me to call Christopher?"

You nod as you sob, holding Namjoon close and doing your best to keep your eyes open. 

"Let's get out of here and put some clean clothes on."

Namjoon's hands slowly caress over your back and shoulders, and you allow yourself to breathe into the feeling and relax. You have tensed up so much that your shoulders are raised high, and you inhale deeply, attempting to calm your nerves and work up the energy to leave the bathroom. 

"Okay," you finally breathe, sniffling and taking deep, slow breaths. "Yeah, let's go."

Slowly, steadily, you are able to leave the shower with one of Namjoon's arms holding firmly around your waist. He towels you off, kneeling on the rug and tile floor, making sure to get every last drop, and then he wraps his clean towel over your shoulders and uses yours to very quickly dry himself. 

His phone is sitting on the countertop beside the sink, and he picks it up, thumbs around for a moment, and then takes your hand to lead you out into the bedroom and into Yoongi's closet. By the time the two of you are dressed, the doorbell rings. 

"I'm going to go answer that," Namjoon says, turning his body fully toward you and taking your hands in his. His thumbs rub over your knuckles, and although you mostly feel emotionally drained, his touch is nice. "Do you want to meet on the couch in here, or the one downstairs?"

"In here," you respond automatically, disinterested in fussing with the stairs or sitting in the huge, empty main hall of Yoongi's home.

"Alright," Namjoon says. "Go have a seat and we'll be right back." 

The world tilts ever so slightly as you move from the closet to the couch. The cream-colored blanket hangs halfway to the floor, and you bend to lift it and drape it over your legs, holding it close to your chest once you sit. Perhaps this is an unprofessional way to meet with the family psychiatrist, but you care more about your comfort than his, if you are being honest. 

Moments later, a man dressed in family blacks enters the room with a bow, greeting you warmly. Although Namjoon enters with him, he leaves almost instantly, insisting that he will be right outside if anyone needs him. 

You feel nervous to talk to Christopher, but he has a kind smile and soft giggle, and he speaks with an accented lilt that reminds you of Felix, instantly easing you into conversation. And even though you are nervous about this process and what it may entail, you do your best, if only for the sake of getting some goddamn sleeping pills. 

Kitten: Landed in Hong Kong. How is my darling?

You: I miss you a lot. It feels like I hardly saw you before you left. 

Kitten: I know, and I'm sorry for that. But I will be home in a few days.

You: I look forward to it. I spoke to Christopher earlier and he recommended an antidepressant to help me sleep.

Kitten: Have you been having nightmares?

You: Yeah, he says it's PTSD. It's been really bad. Even when I close my eyes while fully awake, I see flashes of what happened. I just want to stop remembering. 

Kitten: I know what you mean. I'm glad you are taking healthier steps toward blocking those memories than I have, in the past. 

You: Yeah, well, I have Namjoon's Xanax supply on standby, just in case. 

Kitten: Good, good. Is Namjoon there? I want to give him a call. I would like to hear your voice, too.

You: He's here, watching over my shoulder like a needy little hawk. Please call before he drives me insane. 

Kitten: :] Will do, darling. Just give me a few minutes. 

You are in Seungri's penthouse once again, only as soon as you get into his bedroom with the glass of whiskey in hand, it is Yoongi who slaps you across the face and commands you to get undressed. 

Your empty hand twitches above your thigh, itching to grab for the switchblade, and Yoongi's hand lingers over your cheek, thumb pulling down on your lip. 

“Have I said something to anger you?” you ask, and Yoongi laughs as he drops his hand to his side. 

“You no longer fear me,” he drawls as he turns back to his drink and grabs onto the glass with his lithe, pretty fingers, repeating the words Seungri once said. “Used to be I could put a little scare into you, but now you stand your ground. I like that about you.”

Yoongi skips all the chit-chat that Seungri usually dives into and instead downs his drink and begins to undress. His scars shine brightly when hit by the golden light of the room—his bedroom—and you undress without removing the blade from your thigh or trying to conceal it at all. 

“What a pretty girl,” Yoongi mutters as he approaches.

You step aside and pat the bed—Yoongi's bed—with your hand, purring, “Hop up, sir.”

Yoongi is hard and leaking, cock pointing to the heavens as he settles against his black and gold comforter, and you get up onto the bed and seat yourself in one swift movement, pressing him so deep into you that a shiver works its way along your spine. 

Slowly, you rock your hips, reaching with both hands to drag your fingertips over the scars closest to his heart. "Pretty," you moan as your blunt fingernails turn sharp as talons and catch on the raised skin. 

Then, in a flash, you reach up and slash over Yoongi's eye, quick as a serpent and sharp as glass. Yoongi groans and writhes beneath you, and you—somehow holding your switchblade—continue to fuck him hard and fast while you press the tip of the blade deep into his skin and drag it down over his eyelid, to the apple of his pretty cheek. 

"Mine," you snarl like a beast, thumbing over the pooled blood and smearing it over his face, watching as it mats in his hair. "Forever mine."

You wake up gasping, covered in sweat and stuck in place under warm, heavy limbs. It is still dark outside, and as you pant and attempt to sit up, Namjoon groans and slowly twists away, removing the weight that holds you down. 

"Fuck," you mutter, frustrated. You had taken one of the pills Christopher prescribed and it made you somewhat loopy and very tired—a promising prospect, at the time. 

Namjoon lifts an arm and points to the bedside table to your left, grumbling something incomprehensible before his breathing returns to light snores, and you turn to find two boxes sitting next to a tall glass of water. First, you grab your box of medication and put it back. Then you grab the other, made out to Namjoon, and you pull out a packet and rip it open, freeing one large white pill and gulping it down with a mouthful of water. 

Rather than lying back down to sleep, you roll back toward Namjoon and begin to shimmy down into the sheet, yanking his legs to spread and crawling between them. You can still feel Yoongi inside you from the dream, and you want Namjoon in your mouth now, before you lose your mind. 

Namjoon hums and yawns as you paw at his semi-soft cock, and once he cracks an eye open and moans his consent, you yank his briefs away and swallow him down into your throat, eagerly sucking and stretching your lips, moaning and humming as he trembles and groans beneath you. 

With eager hands, Namjoon yanks at your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside before gripping at your shoulders and arms in what feels like an attempt to get you to stop sucking his cock.

"Fuck me," he begs, and you do as you are told, grinning with drool-slick lips as you crawl and crash into him, needing to be held up while you angle his tip just right and begin to fuck yourself on him. 

The stretch is so intense, you shiver and fall forward, palms sliding against his sweat-slicked chest and gripping onto the pillow beside his head. Namjoon takes your hips in both hands and begins to fuck upward, holding you in place to use as you bob and moan like a marionette built only for pleasure. 

Namjoon changes positions and holds you tight, fucking you from behind while you lie half on your back and half on your side. By the time you cum, you are dizzy and sinking deep into a drug-induced fog, lulled by the feeling of lips and warm breath against your neck. 

"Don't stop," you mutter as you slip from consciousness, just as eager for Namjoon to cum but unable to hold on and see to it that he does. Although you think his movements have halted and he has repositioned you to rest against his chest, you could also be imagining it as everything fades to black. 

"I wonder how Jeongguk is doing," you mutter, holding your steaming cup of tea to your lips and staring out the bedroom's back window. Namjoon has purchased two new chairs that match the couch because last night, you said you wanted to be able to look out at the gardens.

"Ask him," Namjoon responds somewhat flatly. 

When you look at Namjoon, his brow is knit, and he stares out the window as if he is looking at nothing. He spaces out like this from time to time, and although you are curious about what is on his mind, you feel a bit too disconnected to ask. The antidepressants work wonders for your anxiety and post-traumatic stress symptoms, but they are also anti many other things, including happiness and concern. Christopher insists you need a few weeks to a month to adjust. 

"Fine," you respond with a sigh, disinterested in talking to Namjoon if he is going to be so short with you. 

You pick up your phone, which you keep nearby at all times in case Yoongi reaches out, and you dial Jeongguk's number. The last time the two of you spoke was the night you sliced your boyfriend's pretty face open, and although you are somewhat nervous to hear his voice, you try not to overthink it. 

Jeongguk picks up on the second ring, and you can hear him panting as he says, "Doll. Hey."

"Hi," you respond, swallowing thickly. Suddenly, your mouth feels really dry. "Am I interrupting anything?"

There is a pause, and you hear the bubbling sound of him drinking from a water bottle, followed by a low Ahhh. "Nah, just working out. But I could take a break. Do you need something?"

"No," you clear your throat and sit up, repositioning your legs on the large blue chair. To your right, Namjoon sighs and gets up. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. We haven't spoken since the—"

"Right," Jeongguk interrupts, voice low and rough. "Listen, I'm sorry for—"

Disinterested in apologies, you mutter, "No, it's fine. I get it."

Silence hangs. You want to see Jeongguk again. You want to ask him to come over, maybe ask whether he would like to take a walk through the garden or drive into town for some ice cream. You miss his smell and the way his eyes brighten up like tiny galaxies when he smiles nice and big.

"Do you—" you begin just as Jeongguk says, "Hey, so, I was thinking—" and you both stop, chuckling and waiting for the other to speak. 

"Go ahead," you urge him. 

Jeongguk hesitates, then says, "I don't even know. If I finish that sentence, I will probably regret it the moment the words come out of my mouth."

You glance over your shoulder when you hear the sound of a belt being buckled and find Namjoon getting dressed in blue jeans and a tan sweatshirt near the closet. He keeps his eyes down as he shoves his hands into his pockets, and does not say a word as he turns and leaves the room. 

"Just tell me," you respond, eyes on Namjoon's retreating form. 

"I was going to say that I think we should spend some time apart," Jeongguk says, voice sounding somewhat sad.

Your chest clenches, and you feel the air sucked from your lungs, returning your gaze to the window. "Oh."

"But even as I say it, I don't believe it. I would sprint over and see you right now if you asked me to. I miss you all the time."

This makes you feel shy, and you nibble your lip. "It's only been a couple days."

"A couple of really shitty days," Jeongguk responds, to which you scoff. "This isn't a conversation to have over the phone, but, I don't know, I guess I just wanted to say what you did when Jimin was injured…it was pretty incredible. And mildly horrifying. And really fucking sexy. All accidents aside."

This makes you laugh, and you stare out the window, at the familiar statues, fountains, and trees. You think about how easy it would be for Jeongguk to come see you, and you almost beg him to. 

"I miss you too," you finally say, feeling a lightness in your chest that hasn't been there for days. "I wasn't planning on telling you that, because I didn't want to inflate your ego, but that is the reason I called."

"Come see me tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks, voice high and hopeful.

"What happened to spending time apart?" you tease.

Jeongguk chuckles. "I told you my conviction is shit. I fucking miss you, alright. Don't make me say it again."

You would love to see Jeongguk. "Alright. Any particular time?"

"Nah," he responds easily. "Whenever you feel like it."

"Okay."

The deep, sultry tone you know all too well returns when he says, "Wear something slutty," and your cheeks warm instantly. 

"Jeon Jeongguk!"

"Come on, doll. It's been almost a fucking week. I need that pussy."

How easily Jeongguk cycles through his moods gives you whiplash, and you shake your head, chuckling quietly. "Forget I said I miss you. I take it all back."

"Nah," he teases, "you miss me."

With a sigh and a smile, you mutter, "Thank you," feeling a fuzzy warmth in your chest. 

You think you hear Jeongguk scoff. "For what?"

Namjoon comes into view outside, walking along the rightmost garden path. His steps are slow and meandering, legs swinging and kicking at gravel, and his left hand is in his jeans pocket while he holds his phone to his ear with his right hand. 

"For making me smile," you respond, feeling a sadness that is hard to pinpoint as you watch Namjoon. "It hasn't been easy."

"Namjoon hyung not keeping you company?"

Namjoon turns to the left and crouches down in front of a rosebush, tilting his head and smiling as he speaks into the phone. It is a smile that reaches his eyes and, even from afar, the prettiest you have seen in days. 

"Nah," you sigh. "Namjoon's in his emo era. I think he regrets staying with me while Yoongi is away."

"Don't put it that way," Jeongguk interjects, and you are quick to say, "I get it. It's fine. I can't have the same history they do, especially not overnight. But it's hard, you know? We both have this gaping wound from missing the same person—worrying over the same person. And instead of turning to one another for peace, we're growing sick of each other."

"There is no way in hell the Kim Namjoon I know is sick of you; he loves the shit out of you. But the love he has for Yoongi is going to be a little different. I have definitely seen the way he shuts down when forced to worry from a distance."

You hum, watching as Namjoon glances up to the window. Although you have no idea whether he can see you, you stare back, hoping that he can. And then his eyes squeeze closed as he laughs and spins on his heels, making his way toward the hedge maze. 

"I miss him and I spend every day at his side."

Jeongguk hums. "I'm sure he misses you, too."

"I started medication, too," you continue, rambling somewhat because it is nice to have someone to talk to. "And it's been great to stop feeling so anxious all the time, but I also feel kind of numb."

"How's your sex drive?"

You scoff, shaking your head. "God, why is that your first concern?"

Jeongguk laughs. "Look, I've heard that it can be a side effect!"

"You're so fucking annoying."

"Well?"

"I don't know," you respond somewhat petulantly. "I guess I have an okay sex drive, but it's hard to gauge when the person I would be having sex with is being so distant."

"Fair. Well, we'll have to test it tomorrow if you're up for it."

Another scoff rocks through your chest, and you shake your head at his audacity. "Fine. If I'm up for it, we'll test it."

"Good."

With a sigh, you decide you have nothing more to talk about. You still don't really know Jeongguk very well in terms of his hobbies or interests, and you have no clue what else you could discuss casually as friends. "I'm going to let you go. Maybe I'll see what my emo Joon is doing in the garden."

"Sounds good," Jeongguk says. "Call me whenever you're up for it, and come by tomorrow if you want to."

"Okay," you smile, biting your lip. "I will."

You: I took a nap today and dreamt Namjoon became a forest sprite, and that he lived in a big, sturdy tree. These medications make my dreams super vivid and strange. 

Kitten: That sounds like our Namjoon! :] What about the nightmares? Are they helping with that?

You: For the most part. But sometimes one sneaks in.

Kitten:  Well, I'm glad you are finding at least a little relief, darling.

You: Talk soon? I miss your voice.

Kitten: I'll call tonight. 

Namjoon gives up trying to get you to do anything for the rest of the night, frustrated by how intent you are on keeping your phone clenched in your hand with the ringer turned high. You check the screen periodically to see what time it is, and eventually fall asleep on the couch, clutching your phone to your chest, waiting for Yoongi to call. 

When the morning comes, you wake up and check your phone, feeling an instant surge of sadness from the lack of notification. All you want is to hear his voice for five minutes, but you are afraid to initiate a call in case he is busy. You're afraid of getting in the way or being annoying. So you wait. 

You: You never called. :( I hope to hear from you today, if you have time.

"You should try to eat something."

Slowly, your eyes blink from your phone to the bowl of fruit in front of you, to Namjoon. He sits across from you on the bed cross-legged with a wooden tray of breakfast foods between you. You hardly remember him bringing it into the room or sitting in front of it, and you really have no appetite, but you lift a cube of watermelon to your mouth just to appease him. 

"Not hungry," you mutter as you wrap your lips around the fruit and bite. It is far too sweet, but it is also refreshing, so you chew and swallow, then reach for another. 

Namjoon sighs, making you feel inexplicably worse. "Is it the medication?"

With a shrug, you stare ahead at the various cubes of melon and the plain omelet that has undoubtedly gone cold. "I guess. It's everything."

"Yoongi?"

You hum. "And you. You're distant. It sucks."

"I know," Namjoon responds somberly. "But so are you."

"Yeah."

Slowly, you lift a piece of melon to your mouth, stopping as your phone dings.

Kitten: Sorry, darling. Been busy. Talk soon! 

With a frown, you pop the fruit into your mouth, slowly chewing as you type your response.

You:  Are you coming home soon?

Then you fall back onto the mattress with your legs bent and feet planted. You should probably let Jeongguk know that you aren't in the mood to hang out today. 

You: Namjoon says the meetings are going well and that the deal is looking good. I hope this means you'll be coming home soon. 

More than a few days pass in a fog. The medication has you feeling so disoriented some days, that all you do is sleep. And when you sleep you dream. 

Sometimes, you are in a library, but it bends and twists and becomes shaped like the many mansions you have spent time in over the years. Men who have used and harmed you in the past are there, always attempting to win you back and claim you for themselves, always chasing you through rows and rows of bookshelves, and you are always searching desperately for Yoongi. 

The worst dream that comes is one wherein Yoongi is dead. News breaks that his body has washed up in the Han, and before he can even be buried, Ryujin and Hyungseo are at the front door surrounded by men strapped with guns, pulling heavy suitcases behind them, moving their things into the master bedroom and throwing your belongings out the windows. 

But at least you no longer dream about the night Jimin was shot. You no longer watch Yoongi bleed. At least you can be thankful for a little reprieve. If only Yoongi would answer your messages, maybe you would stop worrying so fucking much about him. Maybe you would stop searching endlessly for him.

You barely register Namjoon's face buried between your thighs as you stare at the ceiling, feeling the Xanax sink in deep. Tonight, you want dreamless sleep for a change. You just want to forget about Yoongi, and about everything else. 

Namjoon's tongue is skilled and brilliant, but it does not make you cum. You warned him going into this that there was a chance it wouldn't happen, and he happily agreed to try, anyway. As you stare up at the dark ceiling, the vastness of the bedroom feels suffocating. It is too big for three people, much less two. It is especially far too big to be in when you are already feeling lonely. 

"Baby, I don't think I'm gonna cum," you groan, reaching for his head and gripping gently with your fingers. 

Namjoon's lips and tongue slow and then stop, sucking loudly at your clit and labia before letting you go with a wet smack. 

"It's alright," he insists. "Just wanted to try."

Without another word, Namjoon shuffles out from between your legs and lies beside you, turning to face away. You sigh, curve toward Namjoon's back, and grip your pillow tight beneath your head, eager for sleep. 

Sitting on the large blue chair by the window, you stare at your phone, trying to decide whether today is the day you finally see your friend. There is no reason to hesitate to call him, and yet, you do. 

"I should see what Jeongguk is up to," you mutter, mostly to yourself. 

Namjoon sighs and snaps the book in his hands shut, then he turns to you with a frown. "All you do is talk about him, so just go see him, already."

His candor surprises you, and you exhale deeply, feeling a heavy weight pressing on your shoulders. "Are you mad that I want to see him?"

"No. I'm just tired of hearing about it."

He definitely sounds mad. 

"Okay," you respond, disappointed. "I won't talk about it anymore."

As you get up from the chair and walk away from the large window and the sunshine it allows in, you have half a mind to go into your room and change into something pretty to go frolic in the gardens by yourself. It has been far too long since you have left the house. 

So you pad out into the mezzanine, doing your best to ignore how huge and quiet and empty the mansion feels, and you make your way to your bedroom. 

Although it is not your intention, you shove the door closed, slamming it rather loudly. Then you spin on the balls of your feet, walk over to the bed, and fling yourself down onto the yellow and white comforter, deciding a nap sounds good. 

You wake up to the sounds of car doors closing outside and the front door opening and shutting, muttering, "Yoongi!" to yourself. 

Unsure how or when you managed to get into bed in the master suite, you toss aside your concern and the black and gold comforter and roll out of bed, feet hitting the soft, light blue rug. Although you are in a regrettable state, unsure when you last showered because you can barely keep your days straight anymore, you are undeterred as you run through the master suite, out into the mezzanine, and down the stairs, bare feet slapping against cold marble. 

As you fling yourself around the banister and continue toward the main hall, all you see are Namjoon and Seokjin standing in the entrance, and you halt, body swaying forward before tensing. 

"Yoongi?" you ask, unable to form a single other coherent thought. 

Seokjin smiles sadly and approaches with his hands in his black slack pockets, and you feel nausea hit your guts like a brick. "Can we have a word?" he asks, holding his arm out, hand extended toward the back door. 

You glance over your shoulder, feeling uncertain; does he mean to go out by the pool?

"S-sure," you say, willing your feet to move but finding you are unable to as your gaze finds Namjoon, dressed once more in blue jeans and a soft sweater, typing into his phone with a frown. 

"Yoongi decided he needed to stay put a little while longer," Seokjin says lowly, still holding his hand out. "Mind if we step outside?"

"Outside," you mutter, nodding your head robotically as you turn and face the back doors. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

Seokjin takes the lead and approaches the sliding glass door, unlocking it and pulling it open. It is strange to enter the pool area with it empty of an employee, and you step out onto the rough gunite and pad over to the nearest pool beds. 

The sun is bright, the birds are chirping, and you feel extremely on edge, finding that every minuscule sight and sound has your shoulders lifting higher and higher toward your ears. So when Seokjin sits before you, pulls a flask from his breast pocket, and hands it over, you quickly take it, drinking from it without bothering to ask what is inside and wincing slightly as bitter, semi-sweet whiskey hits your tongue.

You sigh through the intense flavor as you hand the flask back, asking, "Why didn't he come home?"

Seokjin takes a slow swig and says, "That is a question I am not quite sure I have an answer to. I can only surmise the reason based on the behavior I witnessed him exhibiting during our stay."

"Which is…?" you attempt to lead Seokjin to tell you before you lose your cool. Seokjin is far too calm, sitting in his standard black uniform with his outgrown, dark hair pulled delicately off his forehead. 

"Which is that he began quite optimistic, daresay, happy at times, only to self-isolate and become very quiet. We were meant to leave days ago, but he kept stating he wanted to stay and 'figure it out,' whatever that meant. When I decided I could no longer stay, he wished me farewell and refused to explain what was on his mind."

"And the deal?" 

Seokjin stares for a moment, then leans forward, offering you the flask, which you take. "Has he told you anything about it?"

You shake your head, lifting the flask toward your lips, pausing to say, "He said he would tell me about it when he came back."

"Hmm, well, then I suppose I can tell you that the meeting went well."

The whiskey is not entirely unwelcoming, but the headiness is somewhat overwhelming. You hand the flask back to Seokjin, waiting for him to continue. He takes a swig and holds the flask in his grasp, resting his hands against his thigh. 

"Hyungseo has agreed to a truce, and her group will no longer be bothering any of us. Ryujin has also agreed to the truce, since it is still largely her family in charge, even if she has allowed Hyungseo to take over. As far as the details, well…I would rather let Yoongi explain."

Although this is good news, you feel strange about what Seokjin is telling you. Were Hyungseo and Ryujin in Hong Kong, as well? Could they still be there? When you blurt the questions out, Seokjin snickers and shakes his head. 

"The ladies were present for our discussion, but, as far as I know, they both returned home days ago."

You wonder if that could be the reason for Yoongi's sour mood. Perhaps seeing Ryujin still affects him. The prospect makes you feel sick. 

"I feel like there is a lot of context I am missing here," you grumble.

"There is," Seokjin responds simply. Then he sits forward, resting his wrists against his knees. "You know, the offer to work for them in Busan stands. In fact, you could be a huge asset for us, since we need someone there making sure they aren't conspiring in spite of our agreement."

"I…don't know," you say. 

"Well, give it some thought," Seokjin responds in a chipper tone, taking one more sip from his flask and holding it out for you. 

You shake your head and hold your hand up, muttering, "Thanks."

"Seems you could use a bit of a vacation, if I may be so bold as to say so. Six months on the coast might do you some good."

"Just getting accustomed to new medications," you grumble, unsure why you bother telling him any of this, in the first place. 

Seokjin hums. "Yes, that process can be a bit disorienting. Try to remember to drink water and eat, even if it suppresses your appetite. We don't need you withering away."

You nod listlessly, barely listening to Seokjin, asking, "Do you think he's coming home soon?" before you can stop yourself. 

"Likely," Seokjin responds with a sigh as he stands. "It's hard to say with Yoongi. Once he gets in his head, there is no telling when he will come out."

"And if he doesn't?"

The sun is bright behind Seokjin when you look up at him, and you lift your hand to block the rays from your eyes, squinting. 

"If he doesn't come home, then perhaps you and Namjoon will have to go and get him."

If there is anyone in this family willing to get onto a plane and head for Hong Kong at a moment's notice, you are sure it is Namjoon. "Okay," you mutter, dropping your hand and your gaze, feeling tired and a bit empty. 

"Take care little wolf cub," Seokjin says as he turns to return inside, and you nod listlessly as you shift around on the pool bed and curl in on yourself, chasing the urge to sleep.

Tonight, even the Xanax does nothing to keep your nightmares at bay, and when you wake up screaming from the sight of the man's head exploding, you find the bed empty, causing your pulse to spike. 

You glance around, find the room empty, and then reach for your phone. Your heart sinks when you see a notification from Namjoon and none from Yoongi, and you heavy-blink, thumbing over your bright screen to open and read the text.

Joonbug: Sorry if you wake up and I'm not there. I'm having a hard time sleeping and didn't want to keep you up, so I walked home. I'll be back in the morning. <3 Call me if you need anything.

Truthfully, you find it hard to blame Namjoon. Twice, you startled him with your screaming, and he has been complaining lately about struggling to fall asleep and stay asleep. Plus, he has been seeking a lot more alone time. 

You: Woke up screaming again, so you made the right call by leaving. 

You half expect Namjoon to already be asleep, noticing it is just before two in the morning. So when he begins to type, you are surprised. 

Joonbug: Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Want me to come back?

On one hand, you think it would be nice to have someone around. But on the other hand, you are not sure it is Namjoon's attention that you crave. Although you love him dearly, the two of you seem to be on different planes of existence lately. Ships passing quietly in the night, both emotionally and physically. Spending too much time together right now might do more harm than good. 

First, you dial Yoongi. Hearing his voice would do wonders for your emotional state, and he is the first person you want to talk to about what has been on your mind. But the phone rings and rings, and eventually goes to voicemail. "This is Min," the somewhat robotic tone of your boyfriend's voice says—disconnected and not meant solely for you the way you need his voice to sound. "Leave a message."

You hang up and hover your thumbs over your screen, attempting to gather your thoughts. Yoongi is unreachable, and Namjoon is distant, but perhaps Jeongguk is free. 

Jeongguk answers on the third ring, "Hey, doll? Late night booty call?" 

You graze your teeth over your lip, laughing as you say, "Maybe. Would you be into that?"

A scoff followed by, "Fuck yes I would be!" makes you smile widely. Then he adds, "Lemme just run it by Tae, alright?"

"Of course," you respond, realizing you should probably also discuss it with Namjoon. "Otherwise, we could just…I don't know…get fucked up? Even Xanax isn't cutting these nightmares and I just wanna get out of my head for a while."

"I can definitely help you with that," Jeongguk responds happily. "Lemme text you in just a minute, okay? After I speak with Tae?"

"Sounds good."

Jeongguk hangs up, and you smile to yourself, opening your neglected conversation with Namjoon. 

You: Actually, I was thinking about finally hanging out with Jeongguk. Kinda just want to get drunk, maybe get a little high. I need to get out of my head. As long as you don't mind.

Joonbug: Understandable. I hope you don't think you have to ask me for permission. I definitely want you to feel free to go spend time with him and have some fun. 

You: If things get a little heated, though…are you okay with that?

Joonbug: If what you need right now is to fuck Jeongguk, I fully support that.

You: Thanks, Joonbug. <3 I love you!

Joonbug: I love you too, sweetheart.

Gguk: Tae is down with whatever we feel like doing. Come to mine? Do you remember how?

You: Joon gave me his blessing, too. :) I think I remember.

Gguk: On second thought, stay put, and I'll come get you. It's dark out. 

You: Sounds good. I'll put on something slutty in the meantime. 

Gguk: Oh, fuck yeah! Be there soon!

Thankful that you had the energy to shower before your several failed attempts at sleeping earlier, you jump out of bed and run to your bedroom. Hanging amongst the sundresses is a little black satin slip dress with spaghetti straps and lace along the edges, and you peel off Namjoon's oversized dark grey tee and toss it to the floor. 

The dress fits snugly, squeezing your breasts and waist, creating inviting curves and cleavage, and you opt not to wear any panties underneath as you marvel at the high slit up your right thigh. 

You apply a little eye makeup, both because it feels like it has been a lifetime since you have looked in the mirror and liked what you have seen, but also because you like the thought of it streaking down your face later, should Jeongguk find some delicious reason to make you cry.

Once you are satisfied, you begin to make your way out to the mezzanine, and you are surprised to find Jeongguk standing at the foot of the stairs; you didn't hear him come in. 

"Jeongguk," you mutter, feeling your heart pound as his lips pull into a hungry grin. He wears a white tee and black basketball shorts, and his short dark hair is unstyled and a little disheveled. You stare at him, unsure whether he is real. How long has it been since the two of you crossed paths? Far too long. 

"Dollface," Jeongguk groans, toying with his lip ring in his teeth. "God damn you look amazing."

As you reach for the railing and begin down the cold marble stairs, you feel a slight tremble in your limbs. Jeongguk watches you like a predator eyeing his prey, and you have forgotten what it feels like to be caught in a stare this hungry. 

"How do you feel about doing some molly?" he asks when you are halfway downstairs, and you hesitate, cocking your head to the side. 

"I don't know. What does it feel like?"

"Euphoric. Calming. Mixed with coke, it'll really wake you up and make you feel alive."

That does sound good, and you smile. "Alright. I'm down."

"I was thinking we could break into the pool bar and chase it down with some champagne, then walk over to my place?"

"Alright," you respond as you reach the last step, standing at eye level with him. 

Jeongguk reaches for your thighs, rubbing his hand up the sides, and you wiggle away in part because his gentle touch tickles, but also to keep him from discovering that you are not wearing any panties. If he finds out this early on, the two of you will never make it back to his place, and you are curious to see how he lives. 

As you side-step and scurry down to the landing, Jeongguk complains but obliges, turning on slippered feet and walking ahead to deal with the glass door. You are barefoot, and you tiptoe on the rough ground as Jeongguk makes his way to the bar and opens a mini fridge. 

"Bingo," he sing-songs, holding up two bottles of champagne with a wide grin, as if the task took any effort at all. Still, you clap excitedly for him as he rounds the bar with both bottles in hand. 

"I bet this dress would look great soaking wet," Jeongguk says, eyeing you once more like a ravenous beast while making his way to the nearest table. 

He plops down sideways on one of the pool beds and sets the bottles down, then pats his leg for you to join him. You make your way over and sit gingerly on his knee, keeping your legs closed and avoiding the urge to straddle him while he works one of the bottle corks open. 

"Let's keep the dress dry, for now," you bargain, reaching up to rub your fingertips along the undercut just above his ear.

Jeongguk bites his bottom lip while pulling out the cork, and when it comes loose with a loud pop, he opens his mouth wide, then grins. With one hand, he holds up the bottle and fishes into his pocket with the other. Then he pulls out a little clear baggie with six tiny capsules full of purple dust. 

"They're pretty small portions, so you can get a feel for it," he says as he hands the baggie to you and you begin to work its tiny plastic zipper open. "If it feels good and you want more, we can take more."

"Okay," you mutter somewhat nervously as you reach out and take a tiny capsule in your fingertips. 

"Ahhh," Jeongguk exclaims, and you look up to find his mouth open wide and tongue hanging open. 

Although you know he is asking for a pill, you lean in close and lick the length of his tongue nice and slow, marveling at the way his taste buds feel. Then you lift the pill and place it right in the center, watching as he seems to struggle to comprehend what just happened. 

With a giggle, you say, "Go on…swallow like a good boy," and Jeongguk takes a long swig from the champagne and then fixes you with a curious gaze. 

"Your turn, beautiful," Jeongguk says, making your cheeks blaze. "Be good for me and swallow. Or are you more of a spitter?"

Jeongguk's predictability is a perfect match for how corny he is, but although you roll your eyes, you lean close and ask, "Aren't you eager to find out?"

"Of course I am," he mutters, a hairswidth from your lips, and you turn your head just far enough to the side to pop one of the molly capsules onto your tongue. 

Jeongguk lifts the champagne and says, "Open for me, doll," and you tilt your head and part your lips, nervous but excited for him to pour champagne into your mouth. 

You expect him to make a mess, so when it spills over past your lips, you simply swallow what has been poured into your mouth and roll with it. Jeongguk licks from your chin to the crease of your lips, making an even wetter mess than the dribbled champagne, and you giggle as you attempt to stand from his lap, only to be held in place. 

"Not so fast," he says as he digs through his shorts pocket and holds up his little metal cocaine vial. "It'll take a little bit for the drugs to kick in and I want my senses heightened now."

"Oh?" you ask, cocking your head as you watch him scoop a considerable pile to snort into one nostril, followed by a second pile into the other. Jeongguk sighs and tips his head back, pressing the side of his knuckle against each nostril as he deeply sniffs inward once more, then he fixes you with a wide smile and offers you the cocaine. 

You trade him, handing off the little baggie of molly capsules, and in swift movements, you take the little metal vial with a spoon attached to its cap, and you snort a small pile into each nostril, then hand it back. As you press against the side of each nostril with your knuckle and inhale, Jeongguk watches you with eyes already somewhat glazed over, and you stand from his lap, smoothing out your tiny dress. 

"Eager to get away from here?" Jeongguk asks, gaze downturned slightly. 

With a shrug, you glance around and realize that yes, you really are eager to get away, at least for a little while. "I guess so. I've been cooped up."

"Alright," Jeongguk says, reaching for your hand. You take it, then grab the unopened bottle of champagne in the other. "Let's get out of here."

Jeongguk is careful and meticulous in the way he locks up the back door, then he takes your hand again to walk through the main hall, to the front door. He slides out of Yoongi's slippers and into some sandals, and you put on the pair of black ballet flats. 

Once outside, Jeongguk closes and checks the door, then he takes your hand once again and leads you around to the left, toward Seokjin's place. The night is so quiet you hear the sounds of crickets in the trees and the crunch of gravel underfoot. 

Jeongguk sighs and squeezes your hand, and you hum questionably, squeezing his back.

"Nothing," he says, turning to look at you. The path opens near Seokjin's home, and the two of you hang a left and continue along the side of the house to the back, where more trees separate each property. "I guess I'm just surprised sometimes."

"By what?" you ask, turning to look at Jeongguk, who turns to meet your gaze. The cocaine buzzes through your system while a nasty little drip can be tasted at the back of your throat.

"By you."

You scoff, feeling somewhat shy. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you did hate me when we first met," Jeongguk begins. 

"Because you were an asshole," you add. 

"And…I don't know. I was surprised when Yoongi and Namjoon were so open to the idea of us. Even tonight, I expected hyung to say no and keep you all to himself."

"Ah," you mutter, eyes on the ground. You begin to walk between more dark trees, enshrouded by their shadows, and you feel grateful that Jeongguk came to get you so that you wouldn't be walking this path alone. "Namjoon and I have been kind of distant, so I'm not surprised."

"Still?" Jeongguk asks.

"Yeah. Still."

"Damn. That sucks."

It does suck, but you feel awkward talking about it. "It's whatever," you lie. "He wants space and went to his house tonight, which is why I called you. Didn't really want to be alone."

"So I'm second place, wow," Jeongguk teases, squeezing your hand.

"Third when Yoongi is around," you tease back, turning to flash a playful grin. 

The rest of the walk is quiet, and when you reach Jeongguk's home, you are a bit surprised by the number of sports cars in his driveway—four, to be exact. His house is a carbon copy of the others, but there is practically no greenery in the yard, only metal workout equipment, including a pull-up bar and some other items that are tough to make out in the dark. 

Jeongguk lets go of your hand as you approach the front entrance, and he punches in a long passcode before opening the door wide and nodding for you to enter. The living room light is already on, and as you toe out of your shoes, you find a scarcely decorated room with a couch pushed far too close to a television, and a punching bag sitting in the center of the space. 

You fail to bite back laughter, and when Jeongguk takes your hand and leads you up the stairs, he asks, "What?"

"Nothing," you mutter, eyeing the empty walls that have never been painted from their original white. "Just didn't take you for such a bro."

"Shut up," Jeongguk gripes, yanking on your arm and making you laugh even harder. 

The upstairs hallway is just as plain, and as soon as he releases your hand and switches on the light, illuminating the bright white space, you squint and turn it off.

"I need fucking sunglasses if you're going to do that," you chide.

Jeongguk continues pulling you down to the room at the end of the hallway, making you wonder what might be in the other rooms. Does he have sex dungeons just like Taehyung? Perhaps a matching throne?

Rather than switching on the overhead light in his master suite, he thumbs around his phone and opens an app. "What color would her highness like the bedroom to be?" he asks with a grin, and you get onto your tiptoes to see the screen and then press where the color wheel is purple. 

Slowly, the lights come on in an inviting deep purple glow, and you nod approvingly, then enter the space. At least his bedroom is decorated with dark walls and bedding, and some photos hung here and there. 

The four-poster bed is straight ahead, and to the right are two large leather chairs. Along the far wall, beside a large window, is a big wooden x with leather restraints on each end—two for wrists and two for ankles, you surmise. 

As you step forward, your entire body feels a little off-kilter. It is slight but enough to make you dizzy, and you hold your arms out, clenching the bottle of champagne as you mutter, "Whoa."

"Starting to kick in?" Jeongguk asks as he walks past and sets his bottle on a bedside table. 

"Maybe," you respond, unsure what it feels like for the drug to kick in. 

Jeongguk approaches, takes the bottle from your hand, and you find yourself leaning and swaying slightly with each of his movements as if your body feels desperate for his warmth. 

"Will you kiss me?" you whine, watching as Jeongguk's mouth pulls into a dopey smile and then sharpens into something much cockier. 

He turns away to place the champagne bottle down, then returns in several large steps, taking you gently by the face with both hands and pressing his lips against yours. Jeongguk groans as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, making you gasp. You let your mouth fall open wide, feeling excitement and arousal simmer through you, and Jeongguk licks across your tongue hungrily, moaning and growling as he tastes and teases. 

"Fuck," he pants as he releases the kiss, pressing his forehead into yours. "You are amazing. And I'm definitely coming up."

You feel tingly and electric, filled to the brim with desire and love and the need to touch and taste and enjoy. Jeongguk is warm and floral but musky, and he tastes like sour cocaine and bittersweet champagne. 

"Thirsty," you mutter as your lips chase after his.

Jeongguk kisses you more but walks you backward, toward the champagne. Rather than reach your target destination, his ass bumps into the edge of his bed, and you giggle into one another's mouths before you peel yourself away and reach for the open bottle. 

Suddenly, you feel as if you have run a marathon, and you have to stop and catch your breath. "I feel kind of overwhelmed," you admit, to which Jeongguk hums and says, "That's normal."

With the champagne in hand, Jeongguk leads you over to the large window at the far end of the room and opens it, letting in a nice cool breeze. The view is a massive, empty expanse of land with the city in the distance, and you stare across the shadows of trees and hills. 

"I feel trapped in limbo," you mutter, unsure why you are saying it aloud. 

Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder. When he asks, "Why is that?" his voice is soft and sweet. 

"I love Yoongi and Namjoon…and I care a lot about the rest of you," you turn your head, rubbing the tip of your nose against his, "especially you."

"But?"

With a sigh, you turn your gaze back to the dark outdoors. "But I don't feel safe, and I have to be heavily medicated just to sleep, now. I lost several days to the fog of starting a new medication, and both Yoongi and Namjoon are distant. I feel like everything is slipping through my fingers and it scares the shit out of me."

"Maybe you need to get away for a little while. Take a trip."

You hum and consider what he says, pushing out the thought of Seokjin's words from earlier, but then scoff, shaking your head. "Take a vacation just to return to a lifestyle of violence. I don't know, I mean, what's the point?"

"Seokjin hyung says they struck a deal with the girls in Busan. That will drastically cut back on the violence."

"But there are other families in Korea," you say without having too much evidence to back up your statement outside of comments here and there made by the men while in your presence over the many months you have been here. 

"Everyone else is neutral, and we do business with them from time to time. Our only adversaries are overseas, and it is not often that the yakuza comes to fuck with us."

A small comfort considering how quickly things could escalate, should they choose to hop on a ferry and start shit, but you accept it for now. This conversation feels too heavy, and you want to be light.

You do feel somewhat light, made of overcooked noodles, but also heavy and buoyant, and you sway your hips and close your eyes. "We need music."

"What kind of music?" Jeongguk asks, grabbing his phone and holding it out for you. 

"Anything," you mutter, "pick something."

After only a few seconds, soft R&B comes on, and the music surrounds you in a way that feels like speakers are placed along each inch of the room. You dip and sway a little deeper, following the music while dragging your ass over Jeongguk until he begins to hiss and grip at you. 

"Gonna make me hard dancing like this," he groans, nipping somewhat forcefully at your neck. 

"I think the pills have dulled my sex drive, just like you said," you complain as you lift the bottle of champagne and take a drink. The carbonation cloys your senses, but you are thirsty, and you continue drinking until you are forced to stop and take a deep breath. When you turn and hand off the bottle, Jeongguk's pupils are bloodshot, and he looks a bit sleepy. "I haven't been able to cum. It's making me lose my mind."

Jeongguk drops to his knees and sets down the bottle, and you lean back against the window, body angled with your pelvis outward, in his face. As he rubs his hands up your thighs, pushing your short black skirt higher, you watch as his eyes widen and mouth drops open. 

"No panties," Jeongguk muses, looking high as shit and happy as can be. When his gaze lifts and finds you, he shakes his head and heavy-blinks as he mutters, "You are fucking incredible."

Without another word, he sits high on his knees and licks over your cunt, sucking your clit between his lips before absolutely devouring you. The surge of pleasure that rocks through you causes you to tremble and jolt forward, and you splay your hands against the wall in an attempt to hold yourself steady. 

Jeongguk is sloppy yet practiced in the way he eats you, alternating wide, wet laps and quick little flicks of his tongue. He zeroes in on your clit, sending shockwave after shockwave through you, aided by the molly to feel better than anything has felt in days.

Although the pleasure is intense and enrapturing, your high builds and builds, only to plateau at a devastatingly high peak. You want to cum so badly, you begin grinding your pussy against Jeongguk's mouth and moaning loudly. Jeongguk grips onto your thighs and does his best to keep up with your movements, slurping and humming like a man enjoying his first meal after a long fast.

"Finger me, Jeongguk," you beg, desperate for release.

Jeongguk does as he is told, plunging his fingers hard and deep. He finds your sweet spot and fucks into it nice and fast, and that is all it takes to push you over the edge, spraying your release against his face and your thighs. Rather than slow or stop, he continues to finger fuck you while lapping at your clit, forcing you to cum once more, and you scream between deep gasps for air. 

Euphoria drowns you in its tidal wave, and you begin to spiral, suddenly needing to slow down and catch your breath. "Too much," you whimper as your knees buckle, and Jeongguk stops his movements and stands, caging you in against the window. 

"How do you feel?" he asks, pressing his lips against yours and filling your senses with your own tangy, heady taste and scent. 

"Great," you respond against him, then turn your head, still finding it hard to catch your breath. "But a little overwhelmed."

"You're probably still coming up, here," Jeongguk says, taking your hand and pulling you away from the wall while rubbing his mouth and chin clean with his forearm. It feels strange to walk, and you stumble a bit into him, leaning your weight against his chest. 

"Let's just slow dance a little," he suggests with a sweet smile, and you drape your arms around his shoulders, incapable of denying him anything. Jeongguk gently grabs your hips and begins to lead you right to left in a small circle. "How is this?"

"Nice," you sigh with a smile, resting your cheek against his chest. "Thank you."

You are unsure how long the two of you stay like this, but several songs cycle, and your high continues to build until it finally seems to even out. Although you feel less jittery and heavy-light, you still feel somewhat otherworldly, finding you have an overwhelming urge to divulge all your deepest secrets to him. Evidently, he feels the same.

"Do you think you could fall for someone like me?" Jeongguk asks, breaking a long silence and taking you by surprise. 

If you were sober, you would be absolutely panicking—possibly even running for the hills. But being this high, you simply shrug and say, "Of course, I could. Don't ask silly questions."

"Shit," he mutters, nuzzling his face against your neck as he chuckles, and you wonder if Jeon Jeongguk is actually shy? "That was too easy. And probably not something I should have asked."

You laugh as you hum and mutter, "Yeah, probably not. I don't think any good could come of us confessing those types of feelings to one another, all things considered."

"True," Jeongguk says, laughing as he stands straight and looks you in the eye. He is absolutely beaming as he says, "I'll just keep it to myself, then," and pretends to zip his lips shut.

The thought that Jeongguk could be confessing to something so large should horrify you, but all you can do is smile. You are too high and too happy to unpack anything of this magnitude right now. 

After another song, you feel the sudden, aching urge to tie Jeongguk to his bed and make him fall apart. And that is exactly what you ask him with your eyes wide and pleading. 

"Let me tie you to your bed and make you fall apart? Please?"

Jeongguk gasps and grins, nodding as he says, "There is nothing in this world I could want more."

You begin to paw at his shirt, lifting the bottom hem over his head and tossing it to the floor. Your eyes linger on the black shapes etched from his shoulder down to his fingers, then you continue the task at hand and reach for the waistline of his shorts. 

As the garment falls to the floor in a heavy thud, undoubtedly from his cell phone being in his pocket, Jeongguk steps backward, leaving it in a pile, and you realize he also wore nothing underneath his clothing. Jeongguk bends and fishes his coke vial out, then begins slowly backing between the large leather chairs toward his bed. 

"No panties," you tease, closing in on Jeongguk, who continues to walk backward toward his bed. You reach your fingertips out, dancing them over his inviting hip bones. "You are fucking incredible."

Jeongguk chuckles, fixing you with a shy smile that makes your heart melt. When the backs of his legs hit his bed, he lets out a little snort-laugh, and then he begins to unscrew his vial and sniff two piles of cocaine into each nostril. He hands the drugs to you, then he turns and begins to pull a strap out from under his mattress, which you are absolutely unsurprised to see. 

"There's one on each corner," he says, and you snort two little piles into each nostril, then close the vial tightly and toss it onto the comforter. You take the hint and round the end of the bed, fishing around for another strap, and when you find it, you pull it out, and set it on the corner of the mattress. 

As you move to the head of the bed and find the last strap, Jeongguk gets onto the mattress, on his hands and knees and crawls into the center. "Want me lying down or sitting up?" he asks, and you lick your lips before saying, "Lie down."

Jeongguk settles in the center and pulls his hands over his head, and you get onto the bed on your knees and begin to restrain him, starting with one wrist, and then leaning over him with your chest hanging in his face to restrain the other. 

To your surprise, the straps seem to be the perfect length to keep Jeongguk spread without there being much give. Once his ankles are in place, you crawl up to him and settle between his legs, bending close to breathe warmth against his hard, pretty cock. 

Jeongguk whimpers and writhes in his restraints, and you lean to the side, slowly dragging your lips over the soft, supple skin of his thigh. He smells musky and familiar in a way that clenches at your heart, and suddenly, the weight of his confession moments ago begins to sink and settle through you, digging its claws in deep. 

Do you think you could fall for someone like me? Asked so simply and casually, as if one asks about the weather. 

Perhaps it is the combination of substances working their way through your system, but you begin to feel claustrophobic and nauseous, and you squeeze your eyes closed. Something simmers and sticks in the back of your throat, and all you can do is gasp for air. 

"Doll?" Jeongguk asks, voice lilted with worry, and you swallow the lump and plaster on a smile, determined to make him feel just as good as he made you feel. You must do it; you need to.

"Just a little overwhelmed," you mutter, dragging your lips and teeth over the meat of his thigh, toward the musky shaved pubes at the base of his very inviting cock. 

You wet your lips and drag them up and down his shaft, flicking your tongue out to coat it in as much saliva as you can muster, but your mouth is fucking dry from the drugs, and it stresses you out. 

"Need the champagne," you whine as you sit up quickly and turn to hop-slide off the bed. 

But you may as well be landing on the moon as you teeter and sway and stumble. You hold your arms out somewhat for balance and struggle to remember just how gravity works as you get your footing and rush over to the neglected champagne bottle by the window. 

All the while, you attempt to pep talk yourself, chugging the tepid bittersweet liquid that is so heavily carbonated it fills your mouth like a gas, until you have no choice but to burp. And then you return to the bed, repeating in your head that this is something you want to do more than anything, and that it should be okay for you to love Jeongguk, if only for tonight. 

Tomorrow you can unpack it and spiral accordingly, but tonight, you need to just enjoy the ride. You want to enjoy the ride. 

Either Jeongguk can sense that something is off, or it is written clearly on your face, because his brows are knit, and his head is tilted upward as far as it can be with the restraints holding his arms splayed up and out. 

"You're so handsome," you slur as you approach the bed, and set the bottle down on the small table, then you grip onto the comforter with both fists and hoist yourself back up onto the mattress. You mean it when you ask, "How did I get this lucky?"

You straddle Jeongguk's chest and lean forward, giving him an eyeful of a glistening wet pussy that he can't reach with his hands or lips while you lean forward and swallow his cock whole. Your mouth is still a little too dry, so you press him in nice and deep, forcing yourself to slowly gag from lack of oxygen while saliva pools and pools under your tongue. 

"Fuck, holy shit, doll," Jeongguk whimpers from behind you, urging you on further. You suck his cock forcefully, desperate to milk him, and listen to him sob. Jeongguk is vocal, moaning and bleating and begging while he writhes in his restraints, hips bucking and trembling beneath you. 

You stick a finger into your mouth to wet it, then reach under Jeongguk's balls to rub little circles against his rim, and he loses it—yanking on the restraints while singing long, pretty notes of pleasure. 

Without warning, he cums in your mouth, and you gag, letting some of it hit your soft palate before dripping past your lips. But you swallow the rest, sucking on his tip and moaning while he shoots rope after rope onto the back of your tongue. 

"Holy fuck," Jeongguk sobs. "Oh my fucking god!" 

You feel elated and higher than before, humming and pleased with yourself for making him cum in what has felt like mere minutes. 

"Please let me taste you, noona," he begs, and you sit up slightly and back into his face, shoving your pussy and ass against his mouth and only giving him enough room to lick and suck desperately, but not enough room to breathe. 

When you move away, he whimpers, and you decide that you want to be even more high than you already are. The goal was to get fucked up and out of your head, and here you are, lodged so deep in your swirling thoughts that you fear you might just go mad. 

"Mind if I do more coke?" you ask as you crawl forward past Jeongguk's torso and settle haphazardly between his legs. The vial is right where you left it, and you reach for it before he can respond. 

You snort two little piles into each nostril—four total—and then screw the lid back on before tossing it aside and turning to face your prize. Jeongguk is covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes blown wide as the heavens, and you reach for his half-hard cock and begin stroking it back to life. 

"Damn, it takes you no time at all to get hard again," you mutter with a smirk, falling slightly forward as you attempt to straddle and crawl up him. 

Jeongguk's expression is a mix of desire and concern, and when you finally have your hands planted on both sides of his head, you lean low and close, breasts spilling from your dress, as you take his bottom lip between his teeth and suck hard enough to make him shout.

"You really fucked me up with what you said," you chuckle against his lips, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. The overwhelm has returned, and you press your forehead against his, fighting for air. "Why did you—" you croak, suddenly overcome with the urge to sob. 

You do not want to fall for Jeongguk. You cannot do something so foolish.

Jeongguk struggles in his restraints, yanking his hands downward and attempting to sit up, but rather than help him, all you can do is lean into him and cry. Everything is so fucking messed up, and you need it to go back to normal. You cannot possibly stay with this family if things do not go back to some semblance of normal; being here and feeling so much worry and heartache is eating you alive. 

"Noona, undo my restraints," Jeongguk urges, yanking his wrists uselessly downward. They are only cloth straps held together by velcro, but the angle and distance of them make it hard for him to reach one hand with the other. 

Jeongguk struggles, and all you can do is sink further, burying your face into his neck while a never-ending stream of sadness pours from you. It feels strange to be this devastated because you also feel an outpouring of love and affection—happiness that is so strong and present, it fucking terrifies you. 

"I can't—" you sob, unsure what you are referring to, just certain that everything is too much and all of it needs to stop. 

"Dollface, hey," Jeongguk pleads before saying your first name, "please let me out of the restraints."

"Jeongguk," you whine, tears and snot coating your face, which smear onto his neck. "I can't do this anymore. I can't stand it."

Jeongguk groans and strains hard as he reaches to undo his wrists, and you cling to him as all the emotion drains from your face with loud heaving breaths and deep, rattling sobs. You hear the tearing of velcro, one after the other, and then Jeongguk wraps his arms tightly around you while sitting the two of you up, cradling you in between his thighs. 

"Oh, baby," he mutters lowly against your temple, hands and arms doing their best to comfort you while he gently rocks back and forth. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea the drugs would make you feel this way."

"I'm sorry," you whine, drawing out each syllable, feeling utterly ashamed and embarrassed. The sweat on your skin has turned cold, and you shiver in his arms. "I feel really, really fucking happy too, but it just…I'm so scared, Jeongguk. I'm so fucking scared."

 “It’s okay to be scared. I’m here for you,” Jeongguk says your name, placing a firm, slow kiss against your temple, making you shudder out a sob. “I’ll hold you until you feel better.”

You know that he is here for you—that he would hold you through absolutely anything. And that just adds to the ineffable pile of terrifying possibilities. 

“I’m too high to sleep,” you whimper, sniffling pathetically as your exhale shakes through your mouth. 

“Me too, baby, don’t worry,” Jeongguk chuckles, squeezing you tightly in his embrace. “I got you, don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

True to his word, Jeongguk does hold you until you feel better. For hours, you sit on his bed, muttering through half-truths about your fears and your loves, your hopes and your dreams. When you shower off the cold sweat, you lean into his chest, and when he dresses you in a sweatshirt and joggers that swallow you whole, he keeps at least one arm around you at all times.

As the sun rises high, you finally stop shivering from the comedown, Jeongguk carries you home on his back, and you smile as the sunlight warms your cheeks. The only time Jeongguk lets go of you is when you find Namjoon standing out by the front door, smoking a joint. 

Namjoon’s smile shines as bright as the early afternoon sun, and as you slide down Jeongguk’s back, setting your feet onto the ground, you run into Namjoon’s arms, throwing yourself into him, catching a whiff of welcoming musk and the skunky stench of weed. 

“Sweetheart, did the two of you have fun?”

You smile brightly and only half-lie when you say yes because, despite all the tears, your heart feels so full. 

“Thanks, Jeongguk,” you say as you release Namjoon and turn around. 

Jeongguk stares at the ground for a beat, then he looks up and smiles. There is an unmistakable sadness in his eyes, and you fight the urge to run back to him. 

“Thanks for the late night booty call, dollface,” he says with a wink, clearly doing his best to cover whatever else is going on in his mind. 

You watch as Jeongguk waves and spins on his heels, walking back to the gravel path. 

“You two are so cute,” Namjoon says sweetly as he engulfs you in a warm, familiar hug. 

"Is that so?" you ask as you spin in Namjoon’s hold and wrap your arms around his middle. 

He seems to have lightened up, and he hums in agreement, making you smile. You feel eager to enjoy your day with him. You have cried rivers in the past several days, and all you want is to breathe easily and feel happy. Even if someone important is missing. 

“I spoke to Yoongi,” Namjoon says, making you gasp and take a step back. His smile is soft and inviting, dimples creasing his cheeks with bloodshot eyes, and you stare expectedly. “What do you say we fly to Hong Kong tomorrow and bring him home?”

Frantically, you nod, feeling your heart boom in your chest. Namjoon takes one more drag of his withering joint and flicks it out into the driveway.

“He regrets creating distance and he wants to talk about it in person,” Namjoon says, eyes trailing left to right as if reading your face. “Rest assured that we have done nothing to push him away.”

You wish you could believe him, but there is physical proof of something you have done to potentially make Yoongi want distance. But you smile and accept this explanation, for now. 

“Are you hungry?” Namjoon asks, releasing his hug, leaving just an arm around your waist. 

“Starving!” you exaggerate, feeling an empty pit grumbling where your stomach should be. 

The front door is propped open, and Namjoon kicks out of his slippers while you leave behind your ballet flats, then he leads you into the kitchen. 

“I’ve been craving eggs benedict, so i had the chef whip up some hollandaise sauce. Does that sound good to you?”

You glance up with a grin and say, “Awe, I was hoping you might burn the mansion down making me an omelet.”

Namjoon digs his fingers into your ribs, making you double over and squeal, grumbling about how he is not that bad of a cook. 

With your hands held high, you shout, “I submit! You’re an amazing cook!” while tears pool in your tired eyes. 

Namjoon halts his attack on your sides and ushers you along on wobbly legs to the kitchen. 

"Are these Gguk's clothes?" he asks brightly, tugging at the oversized hoodie near your ribs. 

You nod and look up at his bright, smiling face, basking in this moment of happiness. You tell yourself that, above all, you desperately need everything to work out and be okay, if only so that you can continue to have moments like these with the people you love. 

No matter what, things need to be okay. 

It's about time we get it straight Gimme a minute if it ain't too late It sounds about right, this can't be forced, babe 대충 무리였나봐, babe It shouldn't feel like this 애먼 기분만 해친 채 Hurts too much already 버티기가 이만큼 힘든데 Stay with me 'til the end of the day

Maybe we Could be Slow dancing Until the morning We could be romancing The night away

🎵 visit the playlist

a few little side notes: i didn't want to name what drug mc is taking because she's not having the best time, so i didn't want to stigmatize medication that anyone takes irl. like...we all know Xanax is used in wack/recreational ways, so that one feels ok to say by name, i guess?

anyway...the experiences mc has while on a cocktail of medications/drugs may not look the same as how your body may react to these, and that is okay. please do not bother me about how your experiences may differ with xanax and other medications, or molly and medications. (but for the sake of argument, i will say that sometimes when you do antidepressants and molly, the serotonin high hits too hard and fast and it can cause a very fast physical and emotional crash, which is why mc does not experience the pure euphoria that you might come to know and love from that drug.) it feels so weird to me when people hit me up to argue about this kind of stuff because everyone's bodies and brains are different, so please don't. this is a work of fiction above all else.

all that being said, i know i have said it before, but i will keep saying it: this story is sad, sad, sad from here on out. the overall end goal is something happy, but it won't feel that way for a while.

reblogs and comments are the lifeblood of this site, but likes are also super appreciated!!! thank you for reading, i love you!!!

a namjoon pov scene takes place between this chapter and the next one, where he devises a plan to get Yoongi back and has a heart-to-heart with mc. you can access his pov here (or learn parts of it in later chapters from the reader’s perspective!)

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

#yoongi mafia #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts angst #bts mafia #bts poly #namjoon mafia #jungkook mafia #fic: collateral

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(2)⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚

˖°࿐ •⁀➷°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐

ꕤ play thing | basketball player!jungkook x female reader | Drabble series | @koocycle

ꕤ paddle with me | jk X reader | campcounselor!au | @yoongsgguktae

ꕤ Castaway | jk X reader | Desert island AU | @hamsterclaw

ꕤ pick & roll | brother’s bestfriend!jk X reader | @xpeachesncream

ꕤ I Remember You | Celestial!Jungkook x Human!FemReader | @streetlight11

ꕤ All I Want | jk X reader | side : kth X reader | War AU | series | @ardentlyjae

ꕤ Dynasty | Jk X reader | Historical AU | @jimlingss

ꕤ My Beauty, My Blood | Mafia!jk X reader | @7cypher

ꕤ bad boy good thing | Jk X Reader | series | @yoonpobs

ꕤ reminder | ex!jk X reader | Three shot | @dollfaceksj

ꕤ strawberry kisses | rapper!jeongguk x photographer!reader | series | @kimnjss

ꕤ the lighthouse | jk X reader | @ephemerlskies

ꕤ no sweetness | lacrosseplayer!jungkook X bobarista!reader | @roseatae

ꕤ Secrets We Keep | idol!jk X camgirl!Reader | series | @yoongiofmine

ꕤ A Picture’s Worth | Gang member!Jungkook X Ex-Gang member!Reader | @chimcess

ꕤ Bloody Love... | yandere!king!jungkook X oc | series | @hongjoongscafe

OTHER POSTS:

˖°࿐ •⁀➷°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2)

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts imagine #bts ff #bts masterlist #jungkook icons #jungkook #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #yoongi #jeon jeongguk #namjoon #bangtan #jungkook masterlist #jungkook mafia #jungkook matching icons #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fluff #jungkook fiction #jungkook fanart #bts jk #bts jungkook #bts army #bts icons #bts jimin #bts #jimin #bts gif #run bts

[pennyellee]

Could we perhaps get a little spoiler of chapter IV? 👉👈

Hmmmm lemme see….here ya go! :)))

I hope to post a full preview soonish 💜

#bts fanfic #mafia au #fic:lacrimosa #yandere #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #bts #yoongi x reader #bts fic #soft yandere #bts mafia au #namjoon mafia #yoongi mafia #yandere!au #bts yandere #min yoongi x y/n

[wildestdreamsblog]

Attorney Kim Namjoon and his little love

Pairing: Attorney Kim Namjoon x Secretary!Reader

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't write about them yet but Namjoon has been running in my mind for the past week that I had to write this down. The first time he saw her baby <3 But also! This is not yet the whole story, just a snippet from their Latibule universe

Latibule universe Masterlist, Preview: Kofi Exclusive

“Is the father coming? Fathers do love to see their child for the first time,” the doctor stated fondly.

“I-It’s just me-“

“I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You blinked in shocked as your close friend and boss, Attorney Kim Namjoon entered the office, his chest rapidly rising and falling as though he ran to get here. His suit jacket was nowhere to be found, and instead, the sleeves of his white crisp shirt was folded up to his elbows and his necktie loosened. He smiled at you, his dimples showing before he took a seat next to you, his muscular thigh touching yours. 

“You’re just in time. I was telling your wife that fathers love seeing their child for the first time.”

“Oh, we’re not-“

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Namjoon stated, his eyes on yours. He reached for your hand and enclosed it in his. He squeezed it once, offering you the comfort and support you desperately needed at the moment. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, and he would make sure of it. Everything would be okay. 

#bts fic #bts yandere #yandere bts #kim namjoon fic #mafia bts fic #mafia bts #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #yandere kim namjoon x you #yandere kim namjoon x y/n

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter One

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 1,3k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, use of a sleep-inducing substance (not specific which one), mentions of prostitution

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the spin-off of Happy Ending, I hope you like the first chapter! 🥰 I would like to warn you, Jimin in this story will not be kind and soft like Jungkook from Happy Ending, he is very cruel and selfish, he is a hard yandere

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Next

2020.

Three years ago.

According to Kim Seokjin's rules, the choice of a whore was something very important. The girls chosen had to meet very specific requirements, such as not having anyone who would one day - following their disappearance - look for them. Seokjin did not want any trouble, and Jimin was not about to give him any. He took a long, deep drag from his cigarette, inhaling its bitter addiction, before blowing a thick, white cloud of smoke out the car window. He stretched his gloved hands over the steering wheel, waiting for the next move. Namjoon, at his side, checked that the situation outside was okay -nothing was moving in that neighborhood, not even the shadow of a stray cat - and this created the perfect moment. "Are you ready, Jimin?" asked the older man, beginning to prepare everything needed. The dark-haired boy's eyes sparkled, he nodded confidently as he adjusted his coat. One last glance at the clock and shortly after exactly 1 a.m. they got out of the car, long strides on the asphalt counted only by the ticking of their smart shoes. Seeing them, anyone would have said they were two well-to-do men about to attend an important event, except to glance at the squalor of the houses shrouded in darkness around them. Namjoon carried a dark briefcase in one hand; Jimin walked confidently beside him before turning into a small, narrow, grim alley.

"They have to stay here, don't they?" asked Namjoon, observing the crumbling building. "That's what they wrote," confirmed Jimin, finding the lobby door already wide open; it was a low-level Motel, it wouldn't take long. They found a guy half asleep behind the counter, the two exchanged a glance of understanding before Jimin approached the man in his forties striking him dryly in the back of the head, the latter only having a chance to let out a choked scream before passing out completely. "Thanks, man," sneered the boy, beginning to look up the names he was interested in in the register, along with the room number and corresponding key. He nodded to Namjoon when he had everything and they went up to the indicated floor. Jimin's alert and shrewd eyes immediately found what he was looking for, he pointed the door to his taller friend and together they opened it, they found the lights off, but they were trained to see even in the dark so they went straight to the two beds in the middle of the old and stale room, it was clear that such a Motel could not have all the comforts and amenities with what little they paid, there were not even cameras, it was an unsuitable and unsafe place for young girls like those asleep in those beds, Jimin thought with a grin.

Namjoon set the briefcase down on the floor, retrieving ready-made syringes from it, handed one to his friend and headed for one of the beds, Jimin chose for himself the one near the window and as the filtering neon sign light increasingly put the young girl's sleeping face on display, he inspected the young girl's face carefully, drinking in the sight of her softly parted lips and the warm breath rhythmically lowering and raising her chest. He lowered himself slightly to her neck, cautiously inhaling the light scent of roses emanating from her inviting skin. Namjoon, meanwhile, had already finished gently injecting the pinkish liquid into the other girl's arm, the substance would send her to sleep for a few hours, and Jimin should have hurried to do the same, too bad that he was merely gazing longingly at the woman, completely rapt. Namjoon noticed this and with a shade of reproach in his voice, called him to his senses. "Jimin, get a move on! Don't let your cock harden just now," he scolded him in a low, irritated tone. The young man puffed slightly, before uncorking the loaded syringe, unfortunately not accounting for the girl's light sleep, who squinted her eyelids as if disturbed by the presence looming over her with the eyes of a hawk.

She thought she was dreaming, but the figure of Jimin took a distinct and material form in her field of vision, which at first glance left her speechless.

Then a shrill scream left her throat, she tried to pull away, but Jimin was immediately on her, trying to block her, Namjoon caught up with an expletive clenched between his teeth and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pushing her against the bed, the latter only in time to kick like a horse, managing to hit Jimin at jaw level, which pissed him off in no small measure, without any kindness or regard he stuck the needle of the syringe on her exposed thigh thanks to her pajama shorts, it penetrated the skin like butter and the girl stiffened screaming in pain, she fainted from shock without needing to wait for the injection to take effect. Namjoon let go a sigh before staring furiously at Jimin, who was touching the affected area with glacial eyes fixed on his victim. "What the fuck has gotten into you! Did you have to give her time to wake up?" he hissed, his silver hair glowing with the neon light outside, and Jimin gritted his teeth at the saintly appearance he was displaying at that moment. "I didn't think she'd wake up so easily, okay?" he blurted out, before pulling the girl's body to himself without any care, Namjoon shook his head before retrieving the other one more gently, the one had been good the whole time and he hoped the other Motel patrons hadn't heard the screams.

They should have moved in complete silence inconspicuously, but Jimin did not know what silence was, evidently. They went out with a placid step, from the other doors they heard absolutely nothing. Perhaps they were not occupied rooms, or most likely no one wanted to risk their skin to go and see what had happened to the girls, it was still a bad neighborhood that one. Jimin held the unconscious body rigidly in his arms, full of lividity. When he had watched her sleep he had called her a tender little angel in his head, well he was wrong, and very wrong, too. The bitch squealed like a goose and he would have loved to stretch her neck, which Namjoon wouldn't let him do anyway, they served without the slightest bruise to the Dark Moon. They arrived at the car without further trouble, even the road had remained deserted, and loaded the bodies into the back seats. "Let's get out of here before something else happens," muttered the friend, Jimin huffed annoyed, getting back into the driver's seat. "You're making it too tragic, no one heard us," he said, earning an angry look. "Because it was a sleazy Motel, you make all that noise in a normal house and see if no one hears you."

Jimin waved a hand, as if to say that he didn't give a shit about Namjoon's worries, bit his own lower lip piercing as he drove taking semi unfamiliar roads to leave no trace of himself. It would not happen again, after all. Yes, it hardly ever happened that he got a hard cock in the middle of a kidnapping on behalf of the Dark Moon, that had been new for him as well. He cast a glance at the other girl as well, but she said absolutely nothing to him, his body seemed to be attracted to the bitch who had kicked him, this made him even more irritated. "Should we take them to the warehouse?" The warehouse was an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, they used it to hide their equipment, but also often to torture and kill, or as in this case, keep the goods cool just long enough to make decisions about them, it was convenient and practical. "Yes, Jungkook said that Seokjin will lose time at the Dark Moon, there have been clients giving the girls trouble and he is cutting some names off the list," Namjoon replied, reading their maknae's messages. Jimin nodded, taking the last descent of that country road that would lead them straight to the warehouse.

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