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disastermages · 2 years

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[read it on ao3]

Meng Yao can’t help but stare at the tea set sitting in front of him. Lan Xichen had brought it over, packed tightly into a box and wrapped as carefully as he could in mounds and mounds of tissue paper. He’d taken care, more care than he truly needed to. Meng Yao had seen Lan Xichen drive, he didn’t go too fast or too slow, he always took care to swerve around potholes and bumps in the road. Lan Xichen even threw his arm out across Meng Yao’s chest whenever they had to stop suddenly.

“You mentioned a few months ago that your teapot had broken when you moved, I thought you might like a new one.” Lan Xichen speaks quickly and nervously, his hands forcefully held still by his stomach. “I made this one myself in pottery class.”

“I didn’t know that Er-ge was taking a pottery class.” It’s all Meng Yao can make himself, he’s too mystified by the care taken in the entire set. Each of the four cups featured a different season, the colors and designs painstakingly chosen and hand painted. The teapot itself is simple, but it’s no less beautiful, the sun rising and falling over the course of a single day, every single sun chasing after the next one in an endless cycle.

It takes Meng Yao far too long to look up at Lan Xichen from where he stares at the teapot, and even longer for Meng Yao to notice the dark blush staining the tips of Lan Xichen’s ears. Affection roots even deeper in Meng Yao’s chest as he allows himself to smile, his fingers still pressing tightly against the smooth surface. He wouldn’t drop this one. He couldn’t drop this one. “Er-ge is already so skilled at painting, I should have known that he would do well in pottery as well.”

Lan Xichen certainly had the hands for it. Meng Yao won’t pretend that he hasn’t noticed, that he hasn’t stared. Lan Xichen’s hands were perfect, the perfect shape, the perfect temperature, his fingers the perfect length, and his palms just the right amount of dry without feeling rough and clammy.

Meng Yao has to wonder how Lan Xichen manages it while doing pottery, he even almost asks if he can see Lan Xichen’s hands, only to remember himself and flush, though he hopes that Lan Xichen doesn’t see it. He would ask. He would press one of those perfect hands against Meng Yao’s forehead, wondering aloud if he had a fever and then Meng Yao wouldn’t be able to push him away.

Who knows what he might do if he couldn’t push Lan Xichen away.

“You’re the first I’ve told about taking a pottery class, A-Yao.” Lan Xichen admits it as if it were something to be guilty of, his grip on his own hands tightening and relaxing, only to tighten again. “I let Shufu think the dinner plates I made for his birthday came from a store.” Lan Xichen’s gift makes sense, Lan Qiren is a practical man who would appreciate handcrafted dinner plates, even if he didn’t know they were crafted by his own nephew.

“The plates with the willow trees painted on them?” Meng Yao asks and Lan Xichen nods carefully, waiting for Meng Yao to say something, anything about them, and Meng Yao can’t help but indulge him. “They were beautiful, Er-ge.” It’s the truth, the plates were beautiful, and so was the tea set sitting in front of Meng Yao, the tissue paper wrappings tucked inside the box, but still peeking out because Lan Xichen had watched carefully while Meng Yao unwrapped the set piece by piece. They’re still sitting far too close, but Meng Yao can’t make himself move, he can only let himself drift a little further into Lan Xichen’s space.

It’s only when he’s too close to pull back that he feels Lan Xichen’s hand against his back. He isn’t quite holding him, but he could still pull Meng Yao against him if he truly wanted to. Meng Yao won’t let himself wonder and worry about whether or not Lan Xichen really would pull him against his body. He shouldn’t entertain thoughts like that, it only led to trouble. Trouble that Meng Yao might not be willing to pull himself out of.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen starts and then stops, his fingers curling against Meng Yao’s back for just a moment, “I hope you like the tea set. I couldn’t make something like this for anyone else.” There’s care in how Lan Xichen speaks, care that sounds formal enough that it makes Meng Yao’s stomach sink, the bubbles of thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain popping underneath him.

He shouldn’t have assumed, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to have thoughts that indulgent. Lan Xichen was kind to everyone he met as a rule. The hand against his back was friendly, the gift of the tea set was a kindness from a friend and nothing more.

Swallowing down every bitter feeling like medicine, Meng Yao forces himself to pick up the smile that had started to fall, his hands reaching out for the teapot and tucking it underneath his arm. “Er-ge has gone to the trouble of making a tea set for me, but I haven’t thought to offer him tea, I’ve been rude.” Meng Yao doesn’t give Lan Xichen the chance to answer him before he’s standing and walking into the kitchen, he’s too quick for him, though Lan Xichen could certainly catch up to him as easily as breathing. His legs were much longer than Meng Yao’s, it would only take him a few hurried steps to cut Meng Yao off completely.

Meng Yao doesn’t allow himself to turn back to see if Lan Xichen is following after him, instead, he focuses on willing the color out of his cheeks and the hurt out of his chest. His feelings were not Lan Xichen’s problem, Meng Yao would not allow him to think that they were. He can still feel Lan Xichen’s hand against his back while he busies himself with the process of making tea, with filling the kettle and setting it on the stove, with pulling down a box of tea, Lan Xichen’s favorite tea even if Meng Yao never had a taste for it, and letting it sit in the teapot and wait while the water heats.

The flame on the stove glows blue and Meng Yao watches it closely, willing it to warm the water faster. When he got back out to the living room, he wouldn’t allow himself to invade Lan Xichen’s space further than he already had, he would sit close enough to be friendly, but no closer. He wouldn’t even let his knee brush against Lan Xichen’s. He can’t help but shake his head at himself and dig his nails into the side of the stove.

He doesn’t hear Lan Xichen coming into the kitchen, not until Lan Xichen is right behind him, not until he’s set one hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder, his fingers curling in what would feel like possession from anyone else. Meng Yao jumps, but Lan Xichen catches his other hand before Meng Yao can put it down too close to the flame. Lan Xichen’s grip is tight and protective and it makes Meng Yao want to melt against him like some shameless thing. He can’t, he won’t, even if Lan Xichen doesn’t back away. He won’t even let himself mourn the loss of Lan Xichen’s hands on him, if they’re meant to hang limp at Lan Xichen’s sides, then so be it.

“A-Yao, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It’s not what Lan Xichen means to say, but it’s what comes out and Meng Yao can only shake his head again. There’s guilt spreading across Lan Xichen’s face like a tide coming in, but Meng Yao doesn’t know why. Lan Xichen hasn’t done anything wrong.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything, they only stand and stare at each other while tension builds a higher and higher wall between them. Lan Xichen starts and stops a few times before he steps away, pressing himself against Meng Yao’s cabinets, refusing to look at him any longer than he already has. Meng Yao stares hard at the doorway until he hears the water just beginning to simmer. He can’t let it hit a boil, it would scorch the leaves and turn the tea bitter, but he can focus his attention on that, he can pour the hot water into the teapot and let it steep, but Lan Xichen is blocking the drawer with all the pot holders he’ll need to carry it back into the living room.

Meng Yao can’t bring himself to be frustrated with him for it.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen starts again suddenly after handing Meng Yao a potholder, their fingers not brushing very purposefully, “did I say something wrong earlier? You got up so suddenly, I thought I might have offended you.” Lan Xichen is being kind again. Meng Yao had gotten up quickly, as if someone had set a fire underneath him and running to hide in the kitchen was the only way to put it out.

Carefully, Meng Yao puts the kettle down in the sink and shakes his head. Lan Xichen hadn’t said anything wrong, he’d been perfectly polite and perfectly kind. Meng Yao had been the one to let his idle fantasies and indulgent daydreams get away from him. He should answer, he should tell Lan Xichen that he hadn’t done a single thing, but that would mean setting the task at hand aside and turning to look at Lan Xichen again.

Meng Yao could keep himself from dreaming if he only never looked at Lan Xichen’s face ever again.

He doesn’t expect to feel the press of Lan Xichen’s chest against his back, he doesn’t expect Lan Xichen’s arms to wrap around him, his grip more possessive and welcome than anything else that Meng Yao has ever felt. “Does A-Yao not like it when I touch him, then?” Lan Xichen is too close, it would be impossible to keep himself from thinking about those horrible, soft things now. Meng Yao’s throat feels as if it’s trying to swell shut, but he still has to answer. Lan Xichen only makes it harder when he sets his chin on Meng Yao’s shoulder. It’s too much, it’s cruel.”

“I like it when Er-ge touches me.” Meng Yao can hardly hear his own voice, but it feels as though he’s revealing too much, it feels as if he’s showing his hand to the only person he’d ever consider showing it to, but it feels too soon. Lan Xichen’s arms tighten around him and Meng Yao wants to scream. He wants to ask him why, to tell him not to, to tell him to go sit back down, but all the words stick in his throat, and then Meng Yao feels it.

Lan Xichen presses the barest ghost of a kiss against the back of Meng Yao’s neck and Meng Yao can only squeeze his eyes shut and finally melt back against him, though that only seems to encourage Lan Xichen. His kisses get braver, more tangible as they burn against Meng Yao’s skin.

“Er-ge,” Meng Yao starts and sighs, his hands pulling at Lan Xichen’s hands, though the attempt is weak, “Er-ge, please, the tea is going to get cold. You don’t like cold tea.” It’s an even weaker excuse, but it’s all Meng Yao can scrabble for, his nails raking uselessly at the floor of his mind while Lan Xichen’s mouth threatens to pull him back to that warm, delusional place he’d allowed himself to dwell before.

Lan Xichen’s perfect hands are pulling at his shirt, untucking it and bearing Meng Yao’s skin to the kitchen. He tries in vain to pull it back down. It shouldn’t matter, they’re alone here and the front door is locked. Lan Xichen is one of the select few with a key. “I like you more than I like tea, A-Yao.”

Slowly, button by button, Meng Yao’s shirt is undone from the bottom up, though Lan Xichen stops in the middle, his thumbnail sliding over a button and tugging at it while he chews carefully on his words. “Do you want this, A-Yao? I’ll stop if you don’t.” As if to prove himself, Lan Xichen starts to straighten Meng Yao’s shirt out, smoothing imaginary wrinkles even though he makes no move to redo the buttons he’d undone. He still doesn’t move away, nor does he peel Meng Yao off his chest. “I won’t take anything that you don’t want to give me.”

Meng Yao had been ready to turn himself completely over to Lan Xichen’s perfect hands, to let himself be undressed and then had however Lan Xichen wanted him, but he can’t just nod or shake his head now. Lan Xichen wouldn’t continue until Meng Yao answered him properly.

Slowly, achingly carefully, Meng Yao wraps his hands around Lan Xichen’s wrists and slides those perfect hands underneath his own shirt, only to breathe in sharply even though he’d done it to himself. “I want this. I want you to take me if you want me, Er-ge.” This was much more than tipping his hand, this was laying himself bare before Lan Xichen and hoping to be held, rather than being torn into tiny pieces.

The roaming of Lan Xichen’s hands doesn’t go unnoticed, but Meng Yao doesn’t scold or slap them away, after all, he’d put them there himself. He gasps again when Lan Xichen’s fingers skate over his nipples, and then again and again when Lan Xichen repeats the movement, trying to learn what Meng Yao likes without having to ask him just yet. Those sweet tortures only last for another moment before Lan Xichen pulls his hands away entirely. For that, Meng Yao nearly scolds him, but he doesn’t get the chance, Lan Xichen is letting him go the next second. Meng Yao feels unguarded and overly exposed. He almost covers himself with his own hands.

“Won’t you turn around and face me, A-Yao?” Lan Xichen begs him quietly, one hand stroking up and down Meng Yao’s back until he turns around and looks up at Lan Xichen, only to be pulled in tight against Lan Xichen’s chest. This time Meng Yao manages to wrap his arms around Lan Xichen first, only to be picked up as if he weighed nothing at all. He scrambles at first, wrapping his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck, rather than leaving them where they lay against his ribs, his legs wrap around Lan Xichen’s waist on pure instinct, though he squeezes tight around Lan Xichen’s hips to stop him when he tries to set Meng Yao down on the counter.

“The teapot, Er-ge,” Meng Yao reminds him, or tries to, but Lan Xichen only blinks at him for a moment, “we have to move the teapot before we do anything. I like it very much and I don’t want it broken.” Saying it outloud feels stupid, almost childish, but a grin still breaks out across Lan Xichen’s face as he lifts one hand to cradle Meng Yao’s cheek.

“Did my A-Yao really like his present that much?” Meng Yao doesn’t get the chance to kiss the hand against his cheek, Lan Xichen is too busy using it to hold Meng Yao against him while he uses the other to set the teapot on one of the back burners of the stove, uncaring if tea sloshes out of it. Meng Yao can’t make himself care about it either, he could clean the mess later. He would clean the mess later, he wouldn’t let himself forget.

With the teapot out of the way, Lan Xichen finally sets him down on the countertop and lets their noses brush together and Meng Yao squeezes him tighter between his legs again on some instinct from deep inside of him, the urge to trap him there more basal than anything Meng Yao has ever allowed himself to feel. “I like Er-ge’s teapot,” Meng Yao admits it as he lets himself run his hands up and down Lan Xichen’s arms, feeling the muscles there just like he’s always wanted to but couldn’t reach out and touch until now, “but I like Er-ge more.”

Leaning in, Meng Yao is the one who kisses Lan Xichen because he can’t wait for Lan Xichen to do it anymore. He can’t wait to do something he’s only let himself think about doing while he laid in his bed at night, his face pressed into the pillow after he couldn’t stare up at the ceiling anymore. Lan Xichen unbuttons his shirt quickly, rushing through it and shoving buttons through their holes before he drags the shirt down Meng Yao’s arms and back. Fingertips that Meng Yao has thought of kissing before trace his spine up and down the length of his back, the touch light enough to tickle at first, but then hard enough to make Meng Yao press his bare chest against Lan Xichen’s shirt. He can still feel the heat of Lan Xichen’s body through it, and for a long, long moment, Meng Yao thinks hard about laying his cheek against it and staying there.

“You’re perfect, I always knew you would be.” Lan Xichen sighs the words against Meng Yao’s ear before he pushes him back to take him in. The praise washes over Meng Yao like the deep end of a pool, though he’s sure his blush drips all the way down to his shoulders much faster than the way Lan Xichen looks him over, his eyes burning into Meng Yao’s shoulders, his chest, and then his stomach. The want to cover himself with his arms rears up again, but Meng Yao forces himself to press his hands against Lan Xichen’s chest, so he can feel Lan Xichen’s heartbeat, though he hadn’t realized how fast it would be beating. It feels like thunder against his palm. Meng Yao leans in and kisses Lan Xichen’s heart before he can stop himself, though he doesn’t regret it. He’d never regret it.

Lan Xichen leans down and kisses the top of his head before Meng Yao straightens, only to kiss his forehead and both of his cheeks when he does, both hands holding Meng Yao by his face. He doesn’t let go once he’s ready to move on, he only tilts Meng Yao’s head back to kiss his throat and then across his shoulders. “Er-ge,” Meng Yao sighs, bringing his hands up to try and stop Lan Xichen for just a moment, so that he can kiss him back, but Lan Xichen only shakes his head and sinks down into an awkward half crouch. The kisses that Lan Xichen presses against Meng Yao’s chest are all long and lingering, all of them noisy enough to make Meng Yao’s breath catch in his chest, though he can’t squeeze Lan Xichen between his legs anymore.

“My A-Yao is so perfect, he can forgive me for wanting to worship him as he deserves, can’t he?” Lan Xichen only looks up at Meng Yao once he’s fully on his knees, his hands smoothing against Meng Yao’s soft stomach. Lan Xichen had kissed him there too, and he kisses him again, lips closing around a circle of pale skin and sucking hard before letting go with a wet pop.

Meng Yao doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, he hardly has time to think it through before he leans forward and presses his hand underneath Lan Xichen’s jaw, pulling him closer and closing the distance between them. “Do you truly wish to worship, Er-ge, or would you rather have me in your hands?”

He expects Lan Xichen to snap out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into after he’d started undressing him, but to Meng Yao’s surprise, Lan Xichen only smiles up at him, his hands wrapping around Meng Yao’s wrist, but not pulling or demanding anything. “I like it when A-Yao is bossy.” Lan Xichen says it proudly in lieu of a proper answer, his hands sliding higher and higher up Meng Yao’s arm, though they never make a single demand. “I would worship A-Yao on my knees for days if he would allow me to do so.” Finally, Lan Xichen’s hands slide off of Meng Yao’s arm, only for one of his hands to press against Meng Yao’s thighs and stroke back and forth slowly.

“A-Yao doesn’t know what I’d do for him if he’d only ask.” Turning his face downwards, Lan Xichen presses a hard kiss to the center of Meng Yao’s palm, and then his wrist, and then he rises up onto his knees to kiss the inside of Meng Yao’s elbow, only to settle back down again, his chin on Meng Yao’s knee, rather than in the palm of his hand.

Without thinking twice about it, Meng Yao pretends to think carefully while he runs his fingers through Lan Xichen’s hair, tugging on the ends of it just to tease him. “And what if I told Er-ge that I wanted to ride him here and now on the kitchen floor?” Meng Yao dares to look down at Lan Xichen and sees something dark and glittery pass through his eyes, a deep kind of hunger that Meng Yao only realizes now that he’s seen before.

Shifting on his knees, Lan Xichen looks up at Meng Yao as if he just offered him the world on a string, his hand against Meng Yao’s thigh starting to stroke him between his legs, heedless of the slacks still separating them. “I would ask A-Yao if he’d let me prepare him.” It’s a good answer, but Meng Yao hides the pleasure spreading through his chest.

“You can watch while I prepare myself.” It’s a decision that Meng Yao doesn’t make lightly. He’d thought about having Lan Xichen work him open on those long, beautiful fingers before, but that’s not what he wants now. He wants Lan Xichen to keep that starving hunger in his eyes while he watches Meng Yao stretch himself.

Meng Yao is careful not to step on Lan Xichen as he slides off of the counter, though he bends down and kisses him once more before he walks out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, grabbing for a bottle of lube out of his bedside table before he catches sight of his own reflection. Light pink marks litter his neck and stomach, as if Lan Xichen had been worried about leaving marks that were too dark or too bruising, as if Lan Xichen had been too worried about bruising him at all.

They would have to work on that, wouldn’t they?

Carefully, while still looking at his own reflection, Meng Yao shucks off his pants and his underwear, and then, after another moment of thought, his socks. It seemed silly to leave them on when everything else had already been stripped away.

The slow walk back to the kitchen is forced, it’s supposed to tease Lan Xichen, but when Meng Yao walks in, he’s relieved to see that Lan Xichen had had the same idea, a neat pile of clothing set on the floor beside him. There’s no stopping either of them from smiling at each other about it, even if it only lasts for a moment.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” Meng Yao asks, grasping again for that bossy voice that Lan Xichen admitted to liking, but he’s not sure if he finds it. Lan Xichen is hard and just starting to drip, and Meng Yao had done that, he’d been the one to make Lan Xichen this hard. It makes his own cock ache where it stands, though Meng Yao pays it no mind.

“I wanted to wait for you.” Lan Xichen answers with a shake of his head and Meng Yao believes him, it makes that warm feeling even bigger in his chest. Meng Yao kisses Lan Xichen again because he can’t stop himself, dropping down onto his knees and then crawling into Lan Xichen’s lap. He wouldn’t stay there for long, he’d already told Lan Xichen what he was planning to do, he’d just needed to kiss Lan Xichen before he did anything else.

Slowly, his hands slide up to Lan Xichen’s shoulders and Meng Yao pushes him down until he’s on the floor, and then he’s moving until he’s straddling Lan Xichen, only to turn himself around. One hand holds his weight up while his mouth is hovering just over Lan Xichen’s cock. “A-Yao, did you change your mind?” Lan Xichen’s voice is quiet and unsure, his hands starting to stroke up and down Meng Yao’s thighs but Meng Yao puts his weight on his knees long enough to uncap the lube and spread it on his fingers before he sets it aside and reaches backwards.

He’s not able to answer Lan Xichen, not with his words, but he can show him. He can show Lan Xichen how he smooths his fingers over his entrance and strokes slowly before he slides the first finger in and out before he slides another one in. “A-Yao…” Lan Xichen’s voice sounds strangled, just like Meng Yao wanted it to, it makes it worth it to scissor himself open with those two fingers, spreading them wide and then closing them again before he licks at the head of Lan Xichen’s cock, the salty taste of precome spreading across Meng Yao’s tongue and very nearly making him drool. Lan Xichen gasps and bucks his hips up and Meng Yao fucks his own fingers deeper inside of himself for it, adding a third and letting the tiniest of moans escape.

“Does it feel good, Er-ge?” Meng Yao asks the question and rocks his hips backwards, as if Lan Xichen were already buried deep inside of him. After this, his own fingers would never be enough, they weren’t enough before. “It’s too bad that you’re not allowed to come until I say so.” Meng Yao adds the rule just to be cruel, but Lan Xichen moans freely, far from an objection, and Meng Yao takes the head of his cock into his mouth as a reward.

“A-Yao… A-Yao, can’t I touch you too? Please?” Lan Xichen begs and for a moment, Meng Yao thinks about reminding Lan Xichen that he’s been touching him, that his hands are still pressed against the backs of his thighs, but they both know that it isn’t what Lan Xichen means. Instead of answering, Meng Yao takes Lan Xichen further down his throat, until he gags and coughs around him just to feel Lan Xichen’s hips buck again.

If he were cruel, if he didn’t love Lan Xichen as much, Meng Yao might be content just to do this until he came, but he does love Lan Xichen. He loves him far too much just to suck him off without riding him like he said he would. His throat burns and protests as he takes Lan Xichen down to the base of his cock and three fingers spread Meng Yao wide just to show Lan Xichen what was waiting for him. Lan Xichen grips his thighs hard and Meng Yao knows with thick, murky satisfaction that there would be bruises there tomorrow morning.

His eyes are watering by the time he pulls off of Lan Xichen’s cock, the ache dull and nearly gone by the time Meng Yao pulls his fingers free and grabs for the lube again. His legs are too weak to stand, so he walks and turns himself on his knees. He hadn’t capped the lube after he’d finished with it the first time, but it hardly matters now, nothing matters while Meng Yao is spreading lube over Lan Xichen’s cock. He’s generous for both of their sakes, though the way he wipes the excess on Lan Xichen’s stomach is much less generous, but he could afford a little meanness, couldn’t he?

Sitting up on his elbows, Lan Xichen watches as Meng Yao takes his cock into his hand, that same dark, starving look in his eyes. When they did this again, not if they did this again, Meng Yao would let Lan Xichen bend him over and have his way with him. He would tell Lan Xichen to be rough and bruising if he wanted, it’s what Meng Yao wants now, but he can’t ask for it, not yet.

He doesn’t line Lan Xichen up and sink onto him slowly to make a show of it, though Meng Yao can’t say he didn’t think about it. Lan Xichen is bigger than he’d expected, though Meng Yao isn’t surprised, he just has to take him slowly and ease down onto him. Lan Xichen doesn’t rush him, he only presses his hands against Meng Yao’s ribs and guides him down, sitting up the rest of the way to help him along.

It should ruin whatever game they were playing, but it only makes Meng Yao feel even more fond than he did before. “I should have warned you.” Lan Xichen apologizes softly, stroking Meng Yao’s ribs softly to try and relax him, but Meng Yao can only shake his head and set his hands on Lan Xichen’s shoulders again for leverage.

“I still want it. I still want all of you..” Meng Yao won’t let his wants be confused now of all times. His grip turns bruising as he pulls himself up and pushes himself back down again, the pace of his hips slow and clumsy until he gets used to Lan Xichen inside of him. He’d meant to look… Meng Yao isn’t sure how he wanted to look while he was on top of Lan Xichen, powerful and sexy maybe, and he almost thinks that he’s pulling it off when he looks down at Lan Xichen, his hand reaching up to touch his cheek again.

A moan interrupts the kiss that Lan Xichen fixes against Meng Yao’s palm, but it’s still a kiss nonetheless, it spurs Meng Yao into picking up speed, the sound of skin hitting skin begins to fill the kitchen, but Meng Yao can’t be bothered to be embarrassed about any of it anymore, he’s getting lost in the feeling of it, of Lan Xichen’s cock buried deep inside of him, of the press of their skin together, the friction of it, of the smell of Lan Xichen’s hair getting trapped in his nose and his lungs and threatening to push him over the edge.

Lan Xichen wraps a hand around Meng Yao’s cock and Meng Yao doesn’t have it in him anymore to tell him not to, when he tries his words disintegrate into nothingness, into wanton sounds that Meng Yao wasn’t sure he could make until now. Lan Xichen strokes his hand hard and fast, his thumb smearing precome over the head of Meng Yao’s cock, making the glide easier even though the lube is still laying somewhere close at hand. The lube doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters beyond the way Lan Xichen’s cock feels when Meng Yao clenches around him.

Meng Yao is close, they’re both close, and there’s nothing either of them can do to stop it, but Lan Xichen only drags Meng Yao closer when he flips them over and pins Meng Yao to the floor, driving his cock into him hard. He hits Meng Yao’s prostate over and over again until Meng Yao tumbles over the edge like a sack of bricks, his cock painting both his stomach and Lan Xichen’s fist white, leaving Meng Yao gasping and grasping for Lan Xichen, his nails scratching before they find purchase.

“Er-ge, you can come, you just have to come inside, please.” Meng Yao doesn’t feel shame for begging. How can he? How can he possibly feel anything but blindsided by pleasure when Lan Xichen pulls his legs over his shoulders and thrusts a handful of times before he’s emptying himself inside of Meng Yao, his hips snapping until they can’t anymore.

Lan Xichen doesn’t go far, he doesn’t go far at all, he only rolls off of Meng Yao and then on his side to pull Meng Yao close against his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around him. “Are you alright?” Lan Xichen speaks softly in his ear, but Meng Yao feels heavy, as if his body were made of stone. “Was it good?”

“It was good, Er-ge.” Meng Yao answers honestly, his tongue feeling heaviest of all, though he still goes to the effort of kissing Lan Xichen’s cheek, his arms pressed against Lan Xichen’s chest. “The tea is probably cold now.”

Meng Yao doesn’t expect Lan Xichen to laugh, but it still comes and wraps around Meng Yao like a blanket, his words making it even softer, “If the tea is cold, I’ll make more just for A-Yao.” Meng Yao can’t help the smile that he presses against Lan Xichen’s throat, even as his eyes flutter closed, his head tucked underneath Lan Xichen’s chin.

Meng Yao likes Lan Xichen more than he likes tea.

#xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #meng yao #lan huan #the untamed #mdzs #mdzs fic #untamed fic #cql fic #im throwing s/m/ut and dipping byeeee

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intplayboy · 1 year

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TOUCH - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X F! READER [ THREE ]

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summary: jin, with the assistance of 007 (you), performs a quick operation on the maknae as a result of his injury. jungkook tries to thank you, while jin spends some time to learn more about you better. yoongi gets frustrated with his members and takes it out on you.

pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader

warnings: implied drugging, mentions torture (no gore tho), medical extraction, gunshot wound, blood, violence, swearing. more fluff in this chapter! but also unfortunately yoongi being more of an asshole a little bit.

word count: 12,722 *prewritten & new chap but written longer, as an apology for the lateness :')*

also sorry i didn't post on the last two fridays, i had family from the philippines and then new year plans. anyways, better later than never, am i right? heheh... enjoy <3

ps. the second half of this isn't proofread 😭

masterpost | two | four

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copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The maknae lies on his bed, as the others surround him with worried expressions. Their butler and Jin tend to him. "How's he hyung?"

"He didn't lose too much blood since the bullet is lodged in him. But we'll have to extract it or else it'll become infected and he won't heal properly." Jin explained.

The eldest brother casts a glance at his younger brother's pale face. "Jungkook, the bullet is stuck; we'll have to get it out. And it will hurt... a lot."

He blinks open his eyes, faintly nodding. "O-okay."

Hoseok enters the room with a metal cart and approaches Jin and Sun-woo from behind. "I brought the tools."

"Thanks."

Then a tiny figure emerged from the doorway. "I heard, hurt bad."

All eight pairs of eyes turned to gaze at you, but you avoided eye contact. "I want to help him."

"C-can I help him?" You asked softly.

Jin redirects his attention to Jungkook, who meets his stare and nods. "L-let her."

"Okay, come here. " Jin directs you, prompting you to move your feet toward the three men. "Get on the bed on the opposite side of him."

You climb onto the bed and sit next to the injured boy. You chew on your lip as you look at him, the sense of his injury being much stronger to you.

Jin then pressed the silvery blade against Jungkook's wound and gently slid it across, while you wrap your hands around Jungkook, and your eyes and the veins on your hands begin to illuminate purple.

When Sun-woo turns around to deliver Jin the next tool, his attention is drawn to you and your glowing appearance, causing him to yelp and drop the tool in surprise. "Oh goodness! That startled me."

"Yeah, that'll be with us for god knows how long, so get used to it." Yoongi scowls and Sun-woo nods slowly.

As Jin drags the blade against Jungkook, the younger groans and stiffens in pain, but thanks to your abilities, Jungkook gradually relaxes and falls quiet.

Jin continues to cut him open until eventually lifting the blade, causing you to let out a short, relieved gasp.

Jin sneaks a glimpse at you before checking on his injured dongsaeng. "How do you feel Kookie?"

"I-I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore, I don't feel anything. You can continue." He affirms.

"Okay, well, the bleeding is stable, and I will now extract the bullet, alright?" Jin makes an announcement, to which Jungkook nods.

Jin extended his other free hand behind him, signaling their butler to give out the next tool, a forceps. He quickly adjusted the metal tool in his hand and hovered it over the bullet wound once he could feel it in his hand.

He looks into the wound again, properly locating the bullet before inserting the tool into the open wound. He fishes for the bullet steadily but effectively, and once he clamps on to it, he expertly wiggles it upwards to remove it.

The soft audible whimpers coming from your petite form, however, do not go unnoticed by Jin and Jungkook, undoubtedly because they are the closest to you.

Still, Jin focused on extracting the bullet diligently, and once it emerges from the open wound, he instantly places it in the surgical metal basin beside him.

"All done." He begins removing his bloody gloves. "You can heal him now."

You flash Jin a brief glance before gently placing both of your hands above the wound. And, once again, not only do the veins on your hands glow but so do the veins around Jungkook's wound.

Meanwhile, Sun-woo marvels as you miraculously heal his youngest boss. "Amazing..."

You quickly retracted your hands while looking at Jungkook after the wound healed. "A-are you okay?"

The corners of the maknae's lips curved up slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on you. "Yes, thanks."

For what seemed like hours in their eyes, a sudden loud sigh interrupts their trance. "How come you didn't say anything, Jungkook?"

The addressed man swiveled his head, his eyes settled on his concerned leader. "I didn't want to worry you guys, and I figured I could treat it myself."

"If only the bullet wasn't stuck in there." He mutters quietly, but the oldest manages to hear him.

"You really think you could properly treat that wound yourself, are you crazy?" Jin exclaimed.

He puts his hands up defensively. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry, I will make sure to tell you guys next time. Happy?"

While the boys cleaned up, you returned to your room as told and awaited further instructions.

Your head sprang up when you heard a knock at the door a little while later. You watch as a figure enters the room; it was the same broad-shouldered man who had tended to their youngest member and politely conversed with you the day before.

As he approaches you, he gives a faint smile. "Hi, I just wanted to come in here and thank you for helping Jungkook."

"Y-you welcome." You answer with your small voice.

He chuckles softly when the memory of your whimpering came to him. "By the way, I meant to ask you, why were you whimpering earlier?"

You give him a quizzical look, urging Jin to continue with his explanation. "You were making these sounds with your mouth while taking Jungkook's pain and healing him. It sounded like whimpering."

You pause for a few seconds. "Oh, y-your pain—" As you try to explain, you motion to him and then to yourself. "My pain."

The lens spectacle-wearing man scrunches his brows. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"I thought you already feel when someone is—" A voice disrupted him before he could complete his sentence. "Hyung! Are you making dinner tonight?"

Jin lets out an exasperated groan. "Of course!"

He sighed heavily, knowing he'd have to put that subject of discussion on hold for the time being. He then returns his attention to you."I know you've been cooped up in this boring room for hours, so would you like to join me in making dinner for everyone?"

"Y-you asking me?"

He nods. "Yeah, it'll be fun... I think?"

"Fun? What's fun?" You sway your head.

He rubs the back of his head, he did not expect that. "It's like— something you find enjoyable, yes. Something you'll like doing."

"Do you understand?"

"Enjoyable... Oh! Enjoyable, yes." You grin with your lips, exposing your adorable bread cheeks and deep dimples akin to Namjoon's.

That's cute. Wait what? What are you saying Jin? "Well, then, shall we go down?"

He offers his hand to you, which you immediately wrap your own around. He takes your hand in his and gently tugs you out of your bedroom.

When the two of you eventually made it into the kitchen, Jin automatically headed to where the apron with the white and blue stripes hung on a cabinet door. You, on the other hand, stayed still as the expert hacker moved about the kitchen retrieving all of the ingredients.

He didn't see you still awkwardly standing in the center of the kitchen until all the veggies and spices were spread out on the large island table. "O-oh sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I plan to make japchae and kimchi quesadillas. You can help by pouring all these contents for the quesadillas into the bowl like this." He demonstrates with empty dishes, making sure you pay attention. "Then mix it with the ground beef— Does this look easy enough?"

You hum and position yourself in front of the contents you were presented with. Jin attentively monitors you for a moment, ensuring you perform your job correctly. When he's satisfied, he turns around and starts chopping the veggies for the japchae.

He skillfully cuts and slices all of the peppers, mushrooms, spinach, and carrot. The same small voice rang out just as he was about to put a pot on the burner. "I-I finished."

He turns his head, and he finds the sight amusing. Splattered stains on his dongsaeng's sweatshirt and your hands drenched in the mixed spices and oil from the sauce that drips down your arms, staining the cuffs of her sleeves.

He chuckles lightly at your disarray. "Ah you're so clueless, but you're a cute kind of clueless."

As he approaches you with a smile, you pucker your lips in bewilderment. "Let me help you here."

He pulls a clean rag from the oven handle and drags her hands towards him. You squeak quietly at his abrupt actions, remembering Yoongi cleaning the food crumbs off your hands before. So you let him do what he did.

He adds as Jin keeps wiping your hands. "You should've rolled up your sleeves before mixing the ingredients together."

"It's okay, you didn't even know. Next time." He finally finishes drying your hands and lifts his eyes to meet your innocent, questioning gaze.

They exchanged stares for who knows how long until Jin noticed a smear of soy sauce on your cheek. His eyes narrowed on the spot, and his hand moved to your cheek without thinking as he came closer to your face. "You have something on your cheek."

You remained still, the close proximity quickening your heartbeat. Were you feeling fear, like your had with the angry man on the road? No. Then what was so different about how you felt when Jin is just inches from your face? That, you did not entirely understand.

This feeling of a new sort of pulse beating, the people, and even the environment itself were all foreign to you. Being outside the concrete walls that had imprisoned you had been a dream in the past, but it was now your new reality. You were finally experiencing it. Perhaps in an extremely bizarre way, as most people would put it, but anything had to be better than looking at those concrete walls and feeling trapped by your own father, right?

Jin came to a stop so near to your face that you could feel his breath tickling your nose. With his fingers hovering over your cheek, he wiped the sauce off your smooth skin with his thumb.

As he withdraws, a smirk appears on his face. "There you go, all done."

"Your hands could be sticky as well, so go wash your hands and we'll continue from here." You nod once again and do what you’re directed.

And for the remainder of the cooking time, you lingered behind Jin, a curious expression on your face, watching him work earnestly.

Jin eventually finishes their food after only an hour and a half. "Ya! I need one of you to help me in bringing out the food!"

Several footsteps can be heard before one individual enters from the kitchen entryway. "I'll help you hyung."

Jungkook walks over to the large island table and carries the other dish that his hyung had cooked. The meal is brought to their dining table by the two men. "Hey, erm, 007...?"

You glance up at Jin when you hear your name and wait for him to continue. "Could you please bring some plates and chopsticks?"

"Okay." You squeaked.

You looked inside the cupboards Jin had been rummaging through while cooking, searching for those white ceramic round circle plates. As you scanned the cupboard, you spotted the stacked plates. You stretched, nearly reaching for the plates with her fingertips.

As you ostensibly struggles to get the plates yourself, she huffs. After a prolonged strain, you felt your fingertips slightly contact the ceramics and instinctively sought to lean to get a proper grip. You were so focused on retrieving those dishes that you didn't notice the tall figure who walked back into the kitchen. "Ya, what are you doing?"

You flinch at his unexpected presence, startling you, and the plate you barely clutched slips from your loosened hands and smashes on the floor with a loud clatter. You released a small gasp, clearly alarmed by the abrupt predicament.

The said person scrambles forward instantly. "Ya, are you okay?!"

And as soon as you saw him, you identified the familiar face of the man you met in the alleyway who protected you without hesitation. "That was so sudden, I'm sorry."

He says tearing you out of you short daze, gazing at him a little stunned. "It's okay, it's my fault, I clean."

You then lowered your eyes, eventually frowning at the mess you had created. You crouched above the shattered fragments of the once-round porcelain dish without thinking. Upon seeing this, Jungkook scurried to your aid, shaking his head. "No- It's alright. I came up behind you without warning."

"I'll clean it up, you'll only hurt yourself—" The sound of glass thudding and a small yelp alerted him, and he noticed blood seeping out of your palm. "See, I told you. Let me do it."

"Let's wrap this up first." He grabs you injured hand, but you pull it back, shaking your head.

"I heal, remember?" Your eyes then turned purple, and the cut on your palm gradually closed, reverting your hand to normal.

Jungkook watches you as you heal yourself in front of him. That's right, I suppose that'll be the new normal now that she's here. Still, he will always remain awestruck by your abilities, although he doesn't look like he is. "Well, even if you can self-heal, that doesn't mean you put yourself in harm's way all the time."

"Let's get you off the floor for now." He wraps his arms around your slender frame and effortlessly scoops you up, eliciting a subtle squeal of surprise from you.

He then places you on the long island table and sweeps the broken ceramic off the floor. When he's finished, he approaches you again. "You know, there's no shame in asking for help. Especially if it keeps you away from harm's way."

You nod slowly, and Jungkook smirks. "Normally, I wouldn't be so courteous to a stranger I'd only met two days before. But you're different, which I like."

"You also helped me, so I guess my behavior right now is a way of expressing thank you for me." He explains himself sheepishly.

Why was he explaining so sheepishly? It wasn't like he was attempting to declare his love to his crush or ask a girl to a school dance. So why does the cute clueless stranger he encountered on the road who can magically heal people make him feel that way when he speaks to her? It seems like such a complicated question to answer.

When you returned his stare, you both fell quiet, unsure what to say next. After what seemed like many minutes of silence, Jungkook couldn't stand it any longer and cleared his throat. "I'll just grab the plates and you can grab the chopsticks."

"Does that sound good?"

You nod and look down from the counter as if you’re uncertain how you’ll get down from there. This does not go missed by him, and he almost laughs at the sight of your innocent concentrated face trying to figure out how to get off.

Without warning, he puts his hands around your waist, lifts you, and lowers you to the floor. "There you go."

"Let's join the rest for dinner, I'm sure we had them waiting quite long enough."

For the following days, Namjoon summoned the gang for another brief meeting, this time to discuss future plans regarding the allegedly stolen medical equipment and the gang that was transporting it. Everyone agreed that it was necessary to begin investigating the truth behind the smuggling business that had been operating under their noses for nearly two decades.

So, since then, some members have kept holed up in the house, going through recent and archived files and phoning contacts, while others have gone in and out meeting other different 'acquaintances' who prefer the traditional way of discreet information dissemination. However, as the days turned into weeks, the group failed to find even a single lead. File after file, contact after contact, it seems that the so-called "smuggling firm" didn't exist.

No one had the slightest knowledge about it not even the whereabouts of that unidentified gang. And this increased Bangtan's suspicions. They all inherently congregated in the living room at the end of the day and sat drained along the couches.

Yoongi rubs his eyes, almost laughing. "This is like chasing after a ghost."

"What are we even doing?"

"Whoever put in this much effort to keep this thing running in such secrecy for so long must be in a higher status. So the real question is, what are they doing with all of these packages of supplies that would force them to conceal it so desperately?" Jin's brows furrows.

Jungkook cocks his brow while staring down. "Something illegal— extremely illegal."

"But we do illegal shit almost everyday." Taehyung responds bluntly.

The others threw him a deadpan expression. "What? It's true!"

Namjoon sighs. "But, Jungkook and Jin are right." He thinks for a moment. "Jin, do you think you could analyze the supplies within the cargo? Maybe we can start speculating from there once we understand exactly what's in there."

The eldest nods. "Yeah, I can do that. But as I said before with the whole military mainframe hacking, this will also take time."

"And, as I have mentioned, it's fine; what matters is that we get to the bottom of this."

"Should we ask our wonderful guest again?" Jimin advises as he cracks his knuckles.

Taehyung sighs. "That little shit refuses to speak. We've gone at him for hours on end."

"And at this point, he's pissed me."

Yoongi scoffs. "Maybe you need to try a different tactic—"

"What kind of tactic?" Taehyung huffs.

"The Oranyan tactic." He replies.

Jimin rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, good luck trying to get something out of him."

"Watch me." He flashes a sly grin.

With that, Yoongi heads to the basement himself, walking into the dim gray room. There, the surviving member of the cargo delivery they interfered in is now bound to a chair, blood trickling down his nose and purple bruising on his right eye and cheekbones. His head hangs as he was rendered unconscious by the constant pain from yesterday afternoon.

Yoongi approaches the poor man, kicking his foot, awakening him. "Ya, wake up dipshit."

The man groans, groggily lifting his head up. His swollen eyes fluttered open, finally landing on the master manipulator himself. He visibly gulps, this doesn't go missed by Yoongi, making him smirk cockily.

"Good, you already know who I am. No introductions needed, I like that." He tilts his head teasingly.

"Jesus fuck- how many there are of you guys?"

"Enough." Yoongi states bluntly.

"W-what do you want? Your friends already talked to me, and I ain't telling you shit."

Oranyan chuckles humorlessly. "Well good news for you, I don't need you to be talking for while—" The man's face twitches, making him continue. "Bad news, you're going to wish you had."

Two hours later...

The beaten man is no longer restricted to the chair but is suspended from the ceiling by his wrists. Yoongi's knuckles are red from the repeated strikes, but his patience is wearing thin. That's it, he tried to be kind.

He then opens a metal drawer and pulls out a syringe. He moves back up to the man, noticing his wary eye on the needle he's holding. "Oh, you must be wondering what this is?"

"Have you heard of opioids? The drug that supposes to relieve pain... Well, with the proper hazardous amount of an extra component, like fluoroquinolone, it will have the complete opposite effect."

"What does that mean for you? This means that the pain will intensify ten times worse than the minor pain you think you can handle. And well—" His lip rolls up. "You better hope your pain tolerance is immeasurable."

Yoongi had fulfilled his goal, the terror had settled in his eyes, and he was only going to touch the tip of the iceberg for the man. This satisfies him and simply pushes him to inject the drug, forcing the unfortunate man to scream. "NO! No, please!"

Yoongi removes the syringe and replaces it in the drawer. The tormented gang member cries out and squirms in his confinement. "Don't do this please!"

The second-oldest bangtan member ignores his screams by grabbing an empty bucket, placing it in a sink, and filling it with water. When the bucket is roughly one-third full, he takes it out and returns to his subject, drenching him with water.

"What are you doing?!"

Yoongi snaps his eyes up at him. "Can't a man have his fun?"

He then takes another gadget from the metal drawer. "Did I not warn you? Now you're pleading with me to stop, and I haven't even begun."

"Let me ask you a question. Do you want me to stop?"

He reluctantly nods. "Then tell me who that shipment was for."

Silence.

"All right, you asked for it." He sighs. The electric buzzing sounds as he switches on the gadget, and he immediately pins it on the lowly gang member, causing him to scream in agony. Thank goodness for Jungkook's idea to soundproof the room.

He lowers the electric device, allowing the man to breathe deeply... "Gonna talk now?"

He simply shakes his head, causing Yoongi to sigh in disappointment, before repeating his actions.

An hour later...

Shit, he looks like he might... No, he won't, he still needs to give some information. Yoongi groans, knowing what he needs to do now, but dreads it.

But he has to do it for the sake of his family. "You're lucky, you get a break. Because I'm not done with you yet."

As a response, he receives a pained moan, which causes his eyes to roll. He finally departs the basement, passing by the living room, where Hoseok and the maknae line were sitting with instant ramen bowls in their hands.

Jimin pauses in his chewing, making eye contact with his hyung. "So, did he talk?"

Jungkook giggles, attracting Yoongi's attention. "Something funny, Jeon?"

"No, no— uh, nothing." He coughs, continuing eating his noodles.

"Well, why are you here if you're getting close?" Jimin inquired.

"Because that fucker has a low toleration, he looks like his heart is ready to quit beating if I keep going."

Hoseok's pupils dilated. "What, why? What have you been doing?"

"Didn't you hear him earlier, he say his 'oranyan tactics'?" Taehyung nudges him.

"Seriously, Yoongi what did you do?"

"I might've given him the drug." He answers haphazardly.

All four of their faces drops. "You what?!"

"But Jin hyung said-"

"I know what Jin said. But it was the only thing that triggered that prick, okay? And if it works, it works, and I will continue to do so." He cuts off Hoseok. "Now tell me where that weird chick is."

"Where she's always been... Her room." Taehyung sighs.

Yoongi left the living room and proceeded to your room without saying any more.

Before leaving your room, Jimin and Jungkook assisted in keeping you entertained by setting up your television. You were so engrossed by the moving images and characters on the TV that you hadn't noticed Yoongi enter your room after two knocks that you ignored.

He came to a stop when he saw you were too absorbed in a... children's cartoon? His brow furrows at the scene, and he clears his throat loudly, capturing your attention.

Your head swings around at him, little startled by his presence. Your doe eyes reciprocate his gaze. When your eyes connect, he can't help but look away, trying to hide the sudden warmth that has crept up on his cheeks. "H-hey."

You cock your head. "Hi..."

"I need uh- I need you to do something for me." He starts. "There is someone here who is being questioned by me. But it looks like he might pass out from all blows he got."

"I also don't want to risk him dying before I have any information from him."

You keep staring at him, urging him to continue. "What I'm trying to say is, you need to heal this guy, or whatever."

At his remarks, your brows raise. "Okay."

"He hurt really bad?"

"I guess?" He shrugs.

You then hop off the bed and stand on your own two feet. "I will heal then."

Yoongi nods, mildly stunned by your instant obedience. "G-good, follow me."

He then walks you out of your room and down the stairs, passing through the living room, where the three youngest and Hoseok still stay. "Hey cutie~! Whatcha doing out?"

Taehyung greets you with the same boxy smile he had the first time you two met.

"Following him..." While glancing at Taehyung, you point at Yoongi. "He said someone hurt really bad, so I heal."

"Oh..." His lips curled slightly downward as he turned to look at his hyung.

"You're seriously going to bring her down there?"

"Yeah, so?" The latter replies dismissively.

"Hey, this is your problem, don't drag her into this. It's your fault for using that drug on him. I'm guessing you gave him more than the proper dose." Hoseok quickly intervenes.

Yoongi huffs. "Would you all stop ganging up on me. I'm trying all I can to acquire some sort of lead and help us all."

"May I remind you all that we've been running in circles with these detective games for weeks and haven't gotten far."

Hoseok's shoulders slump, Yoongi isn't wrong. If they had any suspicions about anybody or anything, they could usually track down the person's whereabouts, associates, background, and whole past in a matter of days. But not this time; the pending investigation has been prolonged for far too long already, and it's quite eerie for them to go this far without knowing who or what is involved in this whole quandary.

"Well, just know that if Jin finds the extent of your 'interrogation,' you will bear the consequences." Jungkook breaks the tension.

One thing about Jungkook is that, despite being the youngest, the maknae of the gang, he can be pretty mature and frequently plays the part of the elder one or even the group leader when the circumstance calls for it. Perhaps it is because he tries his best to be the most level-headed member of the gang whenever there is a problem amongst the members, and the others are tremendously thankful to him for it, either indirectly or directly.

"I understand." He cuts the talk short, then turns to you, who is already staring at him, oh so innocently... "L-let's go."

You nod and continue to follow him, silently, to the interrogation basement.

When you both enter the room, your sight is drawn to the battered form of the guy that hangs from the ceiling. When you return your gaze, Yoongi turns to face you. "He's hurt really bad."

"Yep."

"Heal him, so I can question him more."

You again merely nod as you walk up to the gang member. When you come near to him, he opens his eyes and fixes them on you. You meet his glance with a blank face. "Hello."

He grimaces at you. "What do you want, bitch."

"Bitch?" Your brow furrows in perplexity.

"Yeah, you stupid bitch." He says it again, leaving you even more perplexed. "Did you come here to do your little boyfriend's dirty work?"

"Me heal you." You innocently gesture to him.

He chuckles dryly, then spits in your face. "I ain't falling for your tricks."

You take a step back from him, flinching and closing your eyes at the fluid contact. Yoongi's laughter interrupts the silence, surprising the guy who had missed Yoongi's presence. Oh, how he wishes he had noticed.

"I think you're the stupid one here." Yoongi then approaches you and hands you a white handkerchief while causing you to gaze up at him while still having the man's spit on your face. "Wipe your face with this."

"I was actually generous enough to bring her here to relieve you of your misery. But it seems that you desire to do more." He looks across at the battered prisoner.

"I-I'm sorry, I t-take it back." He splutters.

Yoongi picks up the water-filled bucket once more. "No, no, not again."

He splashes him with water before grabbing the stun baton. "I advise you turn away, kitten if you can't handle this part."

You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes the stun baton on the gang member, eliciting another agonizing cry from him. As the wailing continues, you cringe, shielding your ears.

Yoongi takes away the baton. "Who was the cargo intended for?"

"I-I can't t-tell you. T-they'll kill m-me." The man replies.

Yoongi exhales exasperatedly. "You'll die anyways if you don't tell me who that cargo was for."

The man clamps his lips together, terrified, he looks at the second-oldest member of the bangtan mafia group. "I-I c-can't."

"Then I'll continue." He then applies the stun baton to the prisoner's abdominal region.

The shrieks lasted for a bit longer, till Yoongi removed it again as the man struggled to take deep breaths. Yoongi was about to push the gadget against him again when the gang member stopped him. "Wait, wait!"

"I-I can't tell you w-who the shipment was for, b-because I don't know who it is."

"How can you negotiate a cargo agreement with someone you don't even know?" Yoongi asks, judgingly. "Are you telling me you don't know who this man is?"

He shows the image that was contained in the evidence package from their anonymous tip a few weeks ago. "Isn't this your little gang meeting up with a man who runs a medical facility?"

"Y-yes, but that wasn't who that supplies were for."

"B-but I don't make the deals, s-so I wouldn't know—" He explains.

"You're the one who does the dirty work, I know." Yoongi sighs and sets the photo down after finishing his sentence.

"But if you don't make the deals, surely you know who does." Yoongi arches his brow in expectancy.

The guy nods, gulping. "I-I do..."

"Tell me now."

Jin was on his way to find Yoongi and remind him that it was his turn to make dinner. He enters his dongsaeng's bedroom, only to be met by the void of his presence. He furrows his brows and begins searching for him throughout the mansion until he comes upon their vast gym room, which Jungkook is occupying.

He walks in, quickly drawing the maknae's attention. "Hey, hyung."

"Hey, Jungkook, I'm looking for Yoongi. It's his turn to prepare dinner. Do you know where he is?"

With the white rag in his hand, the younger pats his forehead. "Yeah, he's in the interrogation room."

Jin's brow furrows in surprise. "He's still there?" He glances at his silver wristwatch. "It's almost six, that means he's been in there for hours."

"Yeah, he claimed he was close to getting the guy to talk." He nods.

"Okay, thank you. Remember to wash up before you come for dinner." The elder pivots, about to return to the entrance.

"Yes mom." Jungkook rolls his eyes. "By the way, that girl is with Yoongi as well."

Jin comes to a halt before grabbing the door handle and turning to face him. "The girl? She's in the interrogation room with Yoongi?"

"Yeah, he said he needed her before the guy passed out on him." Jungkook answers without making eye contact as he resumes his workout on the bench.

Jin pauses for a moment. "Why would— Oh, my god, that little... I'll go, see you later, Kook."

The latter simply grunts in response, as Jin walked out of the gym to the basement interrogation room.

As he descends the stairs, he strains his ears to hear something, anything, despite knowing that the room had been soundproofed courtesy of Jungkook's big brain.

He approaches the door and swings it open. "Min Yoongi, what do you think you—"

Jin stop mid-sentence as he registered the scene in front of him. Yoongi is stuck, staring at you with uncertainty as to what to do about the state you're in.

Earlier, before Jin arrived, the gang member finally told Yoongi what he needed to know, and everything he did know. Yoongi then ordered you to heal him in order to torture him again as retribution for the man's delay in providing the information and send a message to that gang. One that tells them explicitly that Bangtan always gets what they want and that no one can or will stop them from achieving their objective; if they do so, they should count themselves unlucky.

Of course, he didn't tell you that. You knew and were trained not to question commands, only to obey them. So you complied with his demands, but both of you didn't anticipate how severe the healing process would be on you, until now.

Like the previous times, your veins from your fingers to your elbow glow purple and match the veins of the man you are holding as your hands are gently squeezing his sides.

The pain was first somewhat more than you could handle, but the more you lingered with the man, the worse it became. You did your best to prevent the cries and whimpers that threatened to spill from your mouth. No, you can't take your hands off him just yet; he's not completely healed, and his pain hasn't gone away, you thought.

Back at the facility where you escaped, if the healing procedure wasn't fully completed and the subject's pain wasn't properly drained out, you were met with consequences. Consequences that ensured you never made the same mistake twice. You want to take your hands off the man, but if you do, you could suffer the same repercussions as before, which you don't want more than anything.

You don't notice it at first, but as the pain transferring grows increasingly intense, your veins and eyes begin to shine brighter and your head rolls back. You whimper softly as you take more, not only feeling the scorching pain in your abdomen but also in your head. You're not sure what's going on, maybe because you've never reduced pain like this before, causing your senses to surge into overdrive.

Blood begins to seep from your nostrils as your face glows brightly and your head lolls back. And it wasn't until you let out an audible whine that Jin breaks out of his trance on you and rushes up to you.

He grabs your shoulders and jerks you away from the man, interfering with the healing process. And as soon as you lost contact, the agonizing sensation subsided, but the aftereffects almost immediately caused you to become limp in Jin's arms.

Jin drops to the floor with you, softly cradling you. He attempts to wake you, but you don't respond. "Ya! Wake up!"

The elder shifts his gaze from you to Yoongi. "What did you do, Oranyan?"

Yoongi meets his gaze. "I didn't do anything. All I asked her was to heal him."

"And from there, I don't know what was happening. I thought she was just healing him."

Jin's lips pinched as he returned his attention to you, his gaze drawn to the blood gushing down your nose. "I-I think it was too much for her."

"Too much?" Yoongi questions.

"After all, she is still a human being, just like me, you, and that punk over there." Jin replies. "Everyone has a limit, I know you know that, otherwise you wouldn't have asked her for help."

Yoongi turns away as Jin rises up and lifts you in bridal style. "I'll have one of the maknaes take care of whatever happened here."

"I came to tell you that you need to make dinner. And you'd best be prepared to explain everything later." He exits the interrogation room, leaving his dongsaeng behind.

Jin walks across the living room to the front entrance as he emerges from the basement. Their medical clinic is separate from their mansion, but still on their property, so they would have to walk a short distance to the modest housing unit.

On the way to the clinic, he comes across Namjoon, who is reading a book on one of the white benches on their magnificent front yard. Jin's footsteps on the gravel draw the leader's attention away from his book.

When he sees your unconscious body in the arms of his hyung, his brow furrows. He stands from the bench and walks over to you both. "What happened?"

Jin sighs. "I'm not sure, I found her with Yoongi in the interrogation room."

"I guess he needed her to heal the guy since he went too far again." He elaborates. "I think she passed out because it was too much for her."

When the three of you arrive at the clinic, Namjoon goes ahead and holds the door open for Jin. Jin lays you on the automatic medical fowler bed before scurrying into the clinic's supply room to retrieve some tools to help you.

"She's bleeding." Namjoon points out, as the other moves about.

"Oh really Namjoon, I hadn't realized that. Thanks for pointing it out." Jin reacts sarcastically.

Namjoon pouts. "Geez, I didn't notice it until now, okay."

Jin finally returns to you with the appropriate equipments. He needs to check sure you're still alive, so he attaches the fingertip pulse oximeter to your index finger and connects it to the machine.

The machine then detects your heartbeat, allowing the elder to exhale a relieved sigh. "Well, she's alive—"

"What are you doing?" Namjoon observes Jin as he drags a machine close to your head.

"I'm going to scan for her brain activity and see what's going on in that little head of hers when this happens." Jin answers. "I had some suspicion when she helped Jungkook."

"And that is?"

"I'll try to explain it simply, you know when she takes away the pain—" Namjoon nods, encouraging him to go on. "I believe she achieves this by transferring the pain we feel to herself, which means she will experience all of our pain at the moment."

Namjoon's pupils constrict. "That's… That's pretty sensible."

"But, we'll conduct a test to further confirm it." Jin tells him. "You asked me to do some research on the girl, so here it is."

"Shouldn't we first wake her up?" Namjoon inquires.

He shook his head. "No, at least not yet. I'd want to compare the results. Right now, her brain activity should be fairly stable, but we'll see."

Jin surrounds your head with the swoop portable mri scanner. He types on the machine's screen, and the machine whirrs away, leaving the two men waiting for the results of the scan.

It isn't long until the device completes the process and emits an electronic beep. Jin moves to the display computer beside them and types briefly on the keyboard before the scan results appear. Namjoon approaches him from behind, peering over his shoulder.

"What do the results indicate?" Namjoon asks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"These yellow-red patches in her frontal and parietal lobes are likely the stress-related aftereffects of the physical pain she suffered." Jin explains.

"It's almost mostly red on her parietal lobe, is that worse?" Namjoon inquires.

The master hacker nods. "Yes, the parietal lobe is in charge of sensory perception, such as taste, hearing, sight, smell, and… touch."

"You're right, then…" The leader concludes.

Jin snorts. "I'm always right."

Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Suddenly, the two men hear fabric ruffling, signifying that you are waking up.

They pivot, seeing your eyelids flutter open with a scrunch between your brows. When you fully wake, your face softens into a muddled look. You sat up hastily, swiveling your head in the strange room until you noticed the two familiar men alongside you.

Your wide doe-like eyes lock onto them. "W-where am I?"

"You're in our clinic house." The lens-spectacle man responds.

"A c-clinic ho-use…?" You stutter.

"Yeah, it's like going to a doctor's office to be healed and whatnot." Namjoon simply explains for you. "

"Healed…?" You tilt your head. "But I heal me."

"Well, it's also a place to find out whether there's something wrong with you." Jin adds.

Your eyes widen with a trace of panic, which the two men pick up on, only raising more questions about you in their minds. "I-Is something wrong in me?"

The oldest member shakes his head. "I wouldn't say bad, we're just doing tests to see what you do."

They test you; you must do well, you reason, thus you almost instantly sat up straight. "What do I do?"

"Huh?" Jin lifts his brows.

"You said, test me…" You started making that cute gesture you make when you're trying to explain yourself. Wait, cute? What on earth are they thinking?

"So 0-0-7, do what you say."

"Oh well, it's not much. It's a quick thing." Jin begins, then pats Namjoon on the shoulder. "Namjoon here is going to hurt himself, and you're going to heal him again."

Namjoon looks at Jin. "Excuse me? Since when have I-"

"Since now. Now go hurt yourself with something." Jin smiles tightly.

"With what exactly?" He narrows his eyes at his hyung.

The latter merely shrugs. "I don't know. You're the clumsy one."

"Fuck you. I'm NOT that clumsy." The younger scowls.

Jin's brow furrows. "No… You're quite clumsy at times, it's ridiculous."

"Am not." Namjoon groans.

"Remind me who packed the wrong explosive on the helicopter?" The broad-shouldered man crosses his arms and stares expectantly at the other.

"Hey-! It's not my fault they look the same to me!" Namjoon accusingly points at him.

"And neither is it my fault, you were too over-confident."

"Look, if you're not going to hurt yourself, I will." Jin says.

"Oh, really? And how are you—ah!" When Jin jabs a scalpel into his hand and swiftly retracts it, the tactical genius yelps loudly.

"YA! Are you crazy?!" Namjoon exclaims with disbelief.

"I did strap a missile to a tiny helicopter in order to blow up a moving truck… So, perhaps a little?" He replies condescendingly.

"Again, fuck you, that hurt."

"Well, of course, it hurts you pabo, I stabbed your hand."

Jin claps his hands. "Okay, now that he sustained an injury—" He turns to look at you, only to catch you looking at both of them, frightened. Jin's unexpected action may have scared you. The way he didn't think twice about hurting the mafia leader reminded you so much of your father, who didn't hesitate about punishing his scientists and workers if the drugs and experiments on you didn't work or went wrong, along with you, of course.

"Oh, I- um, it's for the test." Jin approaches, but you simply shrink back.

And Jin dislikes it. You and he may have just spent a short time together, but he preferred it when you didn't back away from him. "H-hey, I'm not going to hurt you like that... that, was just for the test."

You reluctantly nodded, then shifted your gaze to the leader, feeling a clear sensation in you that he's hurt. Namjoon meets your eyes, knowing exactly what you're about to ask him. He chuckles to himself, you're like an open book, so simple to read.

He approaches you and extends his hand to you. But Jin stops you before you can display your glowing visage again. "Wait, let me first put this on you."

He grabs a piece of the contraption and places it on your head, puzzling Namjoon. "What is that?"

"It's a neuro headset. It will read her brain activity and transmit it to us in real-time while she heals you." He answers.

As Jin finishes setting the headset on you, Namjoon's lips make an 'o' of understanding. "Okay, you're all set."

Then, he locks eye contact with you, with no animosity. "Don't worry, whether you heal him or not, you'll do well."

Your lips curl into a little grin at his remarks, now nodding with more confidence, which causes him to smile as well. You cover Namjoon's bleeding wound with your feathery touch. Your purple glow comes to life, illuminating your veins, around the wound, and your eyes.

You begin to close the cut on Namjoon's hand while also relieving his pain. And this time, Namjoon truly focusses on your face, attentively watching even the smallest twitches in your face as Jin keeps his attention, analyzing your brain waves. When you transfer the pain into yourself, you close your eyes and your face starts to contort in discomfort.

Jin is right; when you're healing someone, you experience all they feel. He leans back in shock, watching as the wavelengths on the screen bounce higher, indicating the severity of your discomfort. You slowly open your eyes again a few seconds later, and your purple light fades, indicating that the process was complete.

You let go of the dimpled man's hand, revealing it to be perfectly flawless, as if the injury had never occurred. He then pivots, waiting to hear from the master hacker about your brain activity.

Jin just nods his head, confirming Namjoon's thoughts. You're a true enigma to figure out. “How do you feel?”

Namjoon's question makes you blink. “Me?”

“Yes, how do you feel?”

“I feel… okay?” You say.

"007, what did you mean when I asked you how you take away our pain?" Jin asks.

You hum. “Your pain, my pain.”

"I should've known then, but now I know. This changes things a bit."

Namjoon nods. “It does. So we can’t entirely rely on her when it comes to the more severe injuries.”

“We have to tell the others about it.”

“Indeed, we do. We have a lot to talk about anyways, I assume Yoongi got the man to talk.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”

By dinnertime, the seven members had gathered in the dining room, where the delicious food had been prepared by the scar-faced man.

The table was unusually quiet, which generally meant that something bad or novel would be spoken. In any case, the maknae line never enjoyed the tense atmosphere, at least not at the dinner table.

Jungkook uttered a whine. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I have something to say…”

“I have some information…”

Yoongi and Jin spoke at the same time, causing the others to raise their brows and the two men to exchange glances.

“Well, since I’m the older one, you go first.” Jin crosses his arms.

Yoongi only huffs. “Sure… I got a name and location for the gang. The birdie informed me that their gang's leader conducts business in private. But he uses an alias. So it's pointless to try to check his background."

“And the location?” Namjoon inquires.

“Daegu. They had plans if they were compromised they’d lay low there.”

"It seems that their leader loves Golden Dragons. And, that he’s a person we don’t come to and demand of, he comes to you, or so he says.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then we’ll go to Daegu.” Namjoon declares.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Deagu?! That’s hours away. That’ll be—”

"Yes, it will be a full work day for us, maybe a couple of work days." Namjoon confirms.

"When are we leaving?" Hoseok questions, unfazed by the sudden plans.

"The sooner the better, therefore we'll leave tomorrow." The leader answers.

The maknae groans. “Aw man, that means we’re going to have to pack tonight.” Jimin scolds him quietly by pinching his leg.

“Then it’s settled, we’re going to Daegu tomorrow.”

Jimin looks at Jin. “Now, what was it you were going to share hyung?”

He exhales, his shoulders dropping. “It’s about the girl, 007.”

“What about her? Is she okay?” His face is filled with concern. “Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her since she went into the interrogation room with Yoongi.”

“Well, she’s alright now. But it’s about her… abilities, we could say…” He begins.

"We all know that one of her abilities is to heal wounds and relieve pain for all of us, or anybody, really—"

"You're rambling again, Jin hyung." Jimin puffs his cheeks.

He exhales forcefully. "Remember when she came to help you when I extracted the bullet from you, Jungkook?" Jungkook nods, and Jin resumes. "What she did when she numbed the pain was transfer the pain to herself."

"Meaning, she felt all the pain you were feeling at that moment—that's how she does that thing." He explains.

The table falls silent once more as everyone processes the new information.

"See, I had a feeling bringing her down there wasn't a smart idea." Taehyung frowns at Yoongi.

"Ya, none of us knew that until now. Don't blame me." The older glares back.

"How did you find out about this?" Asked Jungkook.

"Well, Namjoon and I went to the clinic to run some brief tests on her after she passed out in the interrogation room. Her brain scans reveal it all." Jin replies.

"Ah… I see…"

"Wait- Did you say she collapsed?!" Jimin's eyes widened as he turned to face the person who had prepared dinner.

"What do you want me to say— I didn't think that would happen." Yoongi shrugs.

"Alright, well, we all know now. We can't rely fully on her if one of us suffers a more severe injury." Namjoon breaks up the members' glares and looks.

"But she was fine when she was healing Jungkook," Jimin muses.

"The only difference is that he didn't have the drug put into him." Jin sneers.

Oranyan slams the table with his fist. "Can't you all be thankful that I got something from him to help us all?"

"Seriously, all I've been hearing at this table is how badly I screwed up. It's annoying." He clenches his teeth.

"You know what, whatever, I'm not hungry anymore." He abruptly rises from his seat, and all six of the remaining eyes follow him.

"Where are you going Yoongi?" Jin sighs.

"Room." He walks away without looking back.

They all looked at each other for a moment before Taehyung broke the quiet. "Shouldn't we—"

"No, just leave him alone for the time being. He needs his time to cool off." Namjoon replies.

"And speaking of the girl, since were going on our little business trip, we just can't leave her here the entire time."

"What do you suggest we do?" Hoseok cocks his head.

"We'll enroll her in school." Namjoon responds while slicing his steak.

"A school… You want to put her in school?" Hoseok repeats.

"Yes."

"I think she'll be alright with Sun-woo here." Jungkook insists.

"Yeah, but for a more than a day, busy with what? A children's cartoon?" Namjoon counteracts.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender. "I'm simply looking at it logically. I mean, she has no social skills, rarely speaks, and doesn't even recognize half of the items in this house. You think she'll survive a day at a school?"

"While I understand your point of view, Jungkook, I think Namjoon's idea is good. How else could she learn those things—certainly not from us." Jin sips from his glass of wine. "And I believe that is also a logical viewpoint. She wouldn't gain from being cooped up in this mansion. And if she's going to stay with us, she might as well learn a thing or two."

"Are we even going to be able to have her registered so quickly? We leave tomorrow." Taehyung questions.

Jin smirks. "Look who you're talking to; what you're asking me is child's play."

"I mean, she's the one forced into a new environment after all." Jimin proposed.

Namjoon nods. "We will and we'll get her registered first thing tomorrow, and then leave later in the evening. Does that sound good?"

Everyone hums or nods in accordance to their leader's instructions.

"So… I think it's very clear we can't register with the number she gave us. She needs a name." Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food, ravenous after all that talking.

"Hmm, you're right… Maybe we can discuss that with her."

Yoongi exits the dining area and ascends the stairs, walking idly along the corridor until he glances up and finds himself in front of your bedroom door.

Over the course of a few weeks, it appears that him bringing your food for dinner has become such a habit that even his body knows where to go and for what without even realizing it. He throws your door open, making you flinch at the door slamming as he strides in, still agitated by the dinner conversation.

“Your food.” He spits, roughly placing it on the bedside table in front of you.

With a little furrow between your brows, you gaze up at him silently. “Y-you… feel not good.”

“Yeah, and I wonder whose fault is that?” He sneers.

"Who?" Curiosity filled your eyes.

He scowls and mentally breathes, cool it Yoongi, one less thing for them to nag you about if you blow up in front of her. "It's none of your business."

You avert your eyes, now staring at the meal. You have a sense that if you make any abrupt moves, you'll set him off. But your inaction seemed to irritate him even more.

You can feel his frustration waves making you tense as he clicks his tongue. “Ya-! Are you gonna eat or what?”

You swallow, unsure where to look, but nod anyway. “I-I will.”

“Well, then…” He narrows his eyes at you.

You perceive this as a cue to start eating on your own. You assume he won't feed you tonight, so you'll have to help feed yourself. And, of course, you're still not sure how to use the utensils.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the food on the white porcelain plate, scooping up the rice and spicy red vegetable known as Kimichi, which you learned you really liked. Your other hand goes to rip a piece of meat jun that you also found you really liked the flavor of.

So you started stuffing the food into your mouth wordlessly, completely disregarding the silvery utensils on either side of the tray, just like the first time he served you dinner.

He catches your attention with an impatient sigh. "Weeks have passed, and you still can't manage something as basic as a spoon or chopsticks?"

"You see these things—" He motions with the spoon and chopsticks, causing you to nod while starring at him. "Use them. Now."

"O-okay." You squeak, clutching the spoon with your food-strewn hands, knowing that it was easier for you to use.

When you picked up the spoon, you tried to mimic what the man in front of you used to do when he fed you, scooping the rice and ready to rip a piece of meat jun again when Yoongi stopped you. "No, use the chopsticks. You've spent enough time watching to understand how to use it."

You hesitantly nod once more before taking the two silver sticks. However, you struggle to grasp it properly when you try to take a piece of the meat jun with the chopstick, holding the utensil awkwardly. You were able to rip a little bit, but as soon as you got a grip of it between the metal sticks, it fell instantly.

You puff softly, attempting it again—once… twice… three times—but it falls pitifully at each attempt. And this simply adds to the master manipulator's aggravation. "YA! Are you that helpless, or should I say useless?"

Your lips quiver faintly as you recoil at his outburst. You disliked it when people yelled at you. With the pathetic ratio of successes and failures you accumulated during your 'training' and testing, it always reminded you how much of a failure you are.

"Can't even use a simple object. I won't understand how any of them think any good of you when you can't even do this." He rants angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

And you hadn't realized that when you finally looked up at him again, your eyes blazed purple, indicating that you were scared of him. He exhales deeply before opening his eyes and returning your gaze, noticing your vivid violet eyes.

He's quite taken aback by it, but he doesn't show it. This happened the last time he saw you for the first time. Why are your eyes so bright when you're just with him? He steps back. "I don't have time to deal with this; I'll have someone fetch the platter when you're done."

He quickly pivots, shrewdly speed-walking back to your door, leaving you in the tense atmosphere.

The next day, the group convened once more to have you registered at one of the nearby schools, as planned. After dinner, Jin proceeded to forge various documents to formally enroll you, such as a paper proof of residency and emergency contact information, as well as fill out a general application form to prevent any suspicions and questioning.

To be totally honest, it'll still raise quite a few eyebrows for one of the country's most infamous mafia gangs to suddenly enroll a girl who hasn't seemed to exist for the previous nineteen years.

The final thing they needed to do was to create a birth certificate for you, but first they had to come up with a name for you. So, with the seven men in your room, they start to discuss the ideal name for you.

"Good morning 007." Jimin grins politely and joins the rest of you in the room, holding a platter of steaming tea in his hands.

With a little wave, you falteringly smile. "Hi…"

You gaze with curiosity as he sets the tray on your nightstand. "Is that my medicine?"

Jimin pauses, puzzledly glancing at you. "Medicine-? This? Oh, no, it's tea. Green tea."

"Tea? Will it make me caa-lm?" You queried.

"I guess…? It's healthy for you." Jimin responds hesitantly.

"007, did they give you something like this back where you're from?" Taehyung questions.

You nod truthfully. "They make me take to caa-lm me."

"And do you know what kind of medicine they give you?"

"Mister said P-pavulon… I t-take when they fix me." You stumble through your reply, trying your hardest to get the words out.

Jin's eyes widened in shock, but Hoseok, being the astute observer that he is, notices it. "I take it, it sounds familiar to you hyung?"

Everyone looks at Jin as he nods in affirmation. "Pavulon- or more precisely, pancuronium it's a neuromuscular blocker used as an adjunct to general anesthesia to facilitate tracheal intubation and to provide skeletal muscle relaxation for patients that undergoes mechanical ventilation or I assume, in her case, surgery."

"Maybe talk in dumb for people who don't understand science terminology you." Jungkook smiles sarcastically.

"It's a more targeted paralytic medicine used in conjunction with general anesthetic to induce skeletal muscular relaxation in the patient, which will require mechanical ventilation since they'll struggle to breathe on their own." Jin explains again.

"So they're practically paralyzed from the neck down?" Taehyung frowns.

"Yes, and in fact, seventy percent of the time, some people do not regain their sensation, resulting in death." Jin continues. "That's why several laws to ban the drug were almost passed."

"But I assume it's only after a certain number of times they've been drugged with it or how much they've been given in one dose, right?" Jimin's face is covered in worry.

"That is correct, and she is quite lucky to still be able to move or be alive."

"Wait a minute- why would they need to use such a strong drug to get her into that state?" The maknae wonders aloud.

Namjoon rubs his chin. "That's a good question, Jungkook."

"Well, given what we know, one thing is certain: whatever facility 007 came from isn't a regular facility."

"Jin, you were able to get any details on her?" Namjoon looks to the eldest.

The latter shakes his head. "No boss, absolutely no traces of her. When Jimin and Jungkook met her, she seemed to appear out of nowhere."

"Alright, it seems like we'll have to make do with what she can tell us about the institution where she was held."

"But for the time being, let's concentrate on the enrollment—So, 007…" The leader now turns his attention to you. "We talked last night, and we all agreed to send you to school because we'll be away on a… business trip."

Yoongi snorts, stifling a laugh, at the notion of you attending school during their time in Daegu. But the rest of them gave him a look that made him shrug. "What-? I thought it was funny, nothing wrong with that."

"What is school?" You tilt your head.

"Basically prison." Jungkook muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear, and Hoseok chastised him by nonchalantly smacking the back of his head. "Ow- hey-!"

Your pupils dilated. "Prison? Did 007 do wrong?"

Jimin frantically shakes his head. "No, no, you did nothing wrong. And it's certainly NOT a prison." He then glares at his dongsaeng. "Jungkook has no idea what he's talking about."

"Oh… Then, what is it?" Your face regains its innocent expression.

"It's a place where young people like you go to learn all there is to know about the world." Jimin answers. "It… It can be enjoyable, and you'll meet a lot of other kids like you!"

"Actually, there are no other kids like her. At least a kid who can heal others and herself in seconds and has glowing eyes." Jungkook interrupts.

"Jungkook-! Seriously." Jimin gives him another scowl.

"Okay, I'll stop." He chuckles.

"You'll get used to it, I believe in you." Taehyung smiles at you.

You reciprocate his smile. "Okay, when I go?"

"Today, in a like two hours maybe." Jin checks his watch.

"However, before we can register you, we must first create a birth certificate for you. The only issue is that we need to give you a real name."

"Name…? 0-0-7—" You point to yourself. "Me- my n-name, 007."

Jin shakes his head. "No, that's a number. Those people in your facility didn't give you a name; they just gave you a number. A number makes you a subject, not a person."

"And you're a person, a human, not anything else."

"So, 007, what do you want to be called?" Taehyung lip-smiles.

With confusion, your eyes are blank. "I-I don't know."

"How about, Ae-Ri?" Jungkook suggests.

"Eh, that sounds too girly for her." Taehyung disagrees.

Jimin arches his brow. "Too girly? What makes it 'too girly', Taehyung?"

Taehyung pursed his lips. "Uh… no… Nevermind."

"What about, Eun-Ha?" Hoseok proposed.

"Oh hell no- that's my sister's name. Definitely not." Jin grimaces.

"Okay, not Eun-Ha, what do you suggest then?" The younger said.

"Let's do Min-Ah." He smirks.

Taehyung giggles. "Sounds like the a shorter girl version of Jimin-ah."

Jimin narrows his eyes on the later 95. "Fuck off, Taehyung."

"Hyung!" Jungkook whines as he notices your ears perk up at the swear word from Jimin.

Jimin looks at Jungkook then shifts his eyes to you, where you look at him with wonder. "Fuck?"

He nervously laughs. "Don't repeat that. Especially not in school, okay?"

"Fuck?"

"Yeah, don't say it okay?" And you nod in compliance, to which Jimin sighs in relief.

"Han-Byul, it's classic." Namjoon says.

"No offense Namjoon, but if I were you, I would sit this one out." Jin said.

Namjoon looks at him, completely offended. "What, why? What's wrong with my name idea?"

"It sounds ancient, you're going to make her seem old." Jungkook pats his leader's shoulder.

"Exactly, took the words right out of my mouth." Jin concurs.

"It's not old, it's classic." Namjoon repeats.

"It's old, that's what it is." Taehyung comments.

Jimin then turns to look at you. "007, how do you like the name, Ji-Won?"

"Ji-Won?" You think audibly.

Jungkook snorts. "Are you sure you want to name her after one of your hookups?"

Jimin swivels his head to look at the maknae. "No...? Wait- How do you know her name?"

"You're telling me you didn't know? She's hundred sixty-two centimeters, smaller eyes, black to blonde ombre hair— that girl, does it ring a bell?" Jungkook looks at the older expectantly.

"Ohh- her... Why do you even remember her anyways?" The master seducer squints at him.

"She came crying to me when you broke the 'news' to her one day after your guys 'amazing' night." He answers.

"Oh- well, then I got nothin'." Jimin says.

The room eventually became silent as they all struggled to come up with a nice name for you, as you sat on your knees gazing at them on your bed.

"Y/N." A voice disrupts the silence.

All seven heads turned to look at the source of the voice, and all eyes were drawn to Yoongi. "What did you say?"

"Y/N, it's simple, and it matches her- I guess…" He mumbles, his eyes averted elsewhere, missing the way your eyes gleam at the mention of the name. Hearing it piques your interest.

Another beat goes by, and your sweet voice comes out. "Y/N…"

"I l-like Y/N." You say again.

Jungkook, Namjoon, and Hoseok's expressions gradually shift to one of slight surprise, while Jimin, Jin, and Taehyung's slowly smirk at your response before diverting their attention to the second-oldest member's reaction to your reaction.

Yoongi coughs, attempting to dismiss it; the bitterness from last night is still present. "Goo- Yeah, whatever."

"Alright, if 007 likes it, then we'll go with it." Namjoon claps his hands.

Everyone accepts with a nod, and Taehyung's boxy smile forms on his face. "It's nice to meet finally meet you, Y/N."

You grin, revealing your teeth. "T-thank you, Tae-tae…"

"D-did I say name r-right?"

Hoseok chuckles as he tries to correct you. "It's actually—"

But Taehyung interjects, waving his hand. "Yeah, you can call me Tae-Tae."

You giggle slightly in response to his pleasant remark.

After a fifteen-minute drive, the eight of you arrived at Yonsei University. The chauffeur parks their black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Luxury van, and shortly after you all exited, eliciting numerous attention from students and a few from the school's bypassing staff.

Your eyes surveyed the magnificent architecture, which was partially covered by what appeared to be green moss. Jimin and Jungkook walked on each side of you, both staring at the structure. "From now on, this is where you'll spend the majority of your time."

You twist your head to look at the tattooed-sleeved man on your left. "I-It looks n-ice."

Jimin hums, looking at you. "I think so too."

"Let's go inside." Namjoon announces.

To say that everyone in the front office was surprised is an understatement. Everyone halted in their tracks to gawk at the mafia gang as they strolled in with you, nearing the front desk where the assistant head administrator stands.

She gulps visibly as you all approach, Namjoon in front. "We want to register a student here. Where is your head administrator?"

"H-quite he's busy at the moment, you might have to wait for about half an hour before he could meet with you." She answers.

"Well, tell him to cancel his plans right now because we're on a tight schedule." Namjoon smiles that didn't reach his eyes.

She timidly nods, reaching for the black phone beside her and dialing the number. "Hello, sir; there are people here who want to enroll a student right now."

"Didn't I say I had work to do? Tell them I decline to meet them, and do your job to set up another time."

"Besides, it's mid-year; they're crazy to register them now."

The assistant anxiously flickers her eyes at Bangtan, which catches Hoseok's attention. "Sir, you don't understand…"

Hoseok's face twitches with amusement as he approaches Namjoon from behind. "Boss, he's most likely refusing."

The woman hears Hoseok and glances at them both with fright. "Ah- no, he'll—"

Namjoon blinks, his face expressionless yet menacing to everyone else. "I'll talk to him."

She hands the phone to Bangtan's leader immediately. He then presses the phone against his ear. "Morning, Pang Chunso-ssi—"

"Who am I speaking to? Are you the one who wants to enroll a student in the middle of the school year? Are you insane?"

Namjoon chuckles dryly. "This is Black Mamba speaking, I'm sure you've heard of me."

The phone went silent.

"Good, you have. Then you should know that I wasn't asking when I said I wanted to register a student here."

The man suddenly clears his throat. "I apologize! O-of course, I'll have my schedule c-cleared out r-right now."

"Excellent. And one more thing Pang Chunso-ssi..."

"Yes... Sir?"

"Am I crazy?" He grinned evilly.

"N-No, o-of course n-not, sir."

"Right, because I'm not that crazy to know about the secret second family you've been hiding from your wife and two kids for the past three years." He replies.

"H-how…"

"Ah, ah, no questions, we'll be at your office in two minutes, and if you're not ready by then, all of those pictures will be sent in two minutes, understood?"

"Y-yes."

"See you soon, Chunso-ssi." He hangs up the phone and returns it to the woman. "Lead us to his office."

They entered the chief administrator's office two minutes later, exactly as Namjoon had stated, with the documents in Jin's hands. As Bangtan comes in, the man straightens up.

He greets Namjoon and the others with a 90-degree bow. "Please take a seat."

"To begin, I'll need the application form, birth certificate, past school records, and emergency contact documents." He begins.

Jin passes over the packet with all of the necessary documentation. "There aren't any school records."

"Pardon?" He raises his eyes to Jin.

"She's never been to school before; this is her first time." Jin responds.

The head administrator's face contorts in befuddlement. "And it's for…" He then takes a look at the application form and the birth certificate. "…Kim Y/N."

"Y/N, me." You smile as you talk, pulling the man's attention to yourself.

He smiles professionally. "That's the new student, I see. I see- well, unfortunately, without any school records, we won't be able to—"

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear Pang Chunso-ssi... Should we find out how your wife and kids will react when they realize you—"

"Okay, okay!" He coughs, trying to keep his composure. "I'll get her registered, she'll start attending tomorrow."

"Today." Namjoon cuts in.

"I- Today..." Chunso glances at his assistant, calling her over. "Tell them to prepare her transcripts and class schedule."

The woman nods, taking the documents and hurriedly leaving the office. Chunso then claps his hands. "Well, you may wait outside, her papers will be ready in a few short minutes."

They all rise from their chairs, and the man bows ninety degrees again. You cock your head. "What are you doing?"

Everyone then looks at you. "I-I'm showing respect."

"Oh." You blankly look at him up and down then mirror his actions, bowing ninety degrees, making the old man's eyes widen. "Huh-?!"

Before you could say anything else, you're grabbed by the shoulder and led out of the office, leaving the headmaster stunned.

"Y/N, you don't have to do that." Jin tells you.

"Why?"

"You're with us, or at least closely associated with us now. And a thing about Bangtan, they don't bow down to anyone, so neither should you." Namjoon explains.

"So... no bow?"

"Yes."

Once your papers were printed, indicating that you were an official student at the school, the assistant informed you that you would be given a tour of the school by another student, which meant that the seven men who accompanied you were no longer required to be present.

So they're back at the entryway, near their parked luxury vehicle, wishing you goodbye.

"I feel like a mother dropping her child off at college." Jin says this while smiling at you. "But aside from that, behave well and have fun, okay?"

He carefully extends his hand and softly pets your head, making you grin slightly as you hum in response.

Jin steps back, allowing the others their turn. Everyone except Yoongi, who is already grimacing in the van as his members say their goodbyes.

Hoseok and Namjoon finished their turn next, followed by Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung.

"Ya, don't do anything I wouldn't, alright?" Jungkook says, causing Taehyung and Jimin to nudge him roughly. "What-? I didn't say anything bad."

"Yeah but she doesn't understand that. And besides, the things you wouldn't do is socialize and be nice to others." Taehyung rolls his eyes.

"That's exactly my point." Jungkook responds, which makes the elder less amused.

He then looks at you. "Hope you have fun my cutie. We'll be back before you know it."

The two youngest then climbed in the vehicle with the others, leaving Jimin alone. "Also if anyone bothers you, tell us okay?"

You nod. "O-okay."

He ruffles your hair lightly. "Bye Y/N. We'll arrange for Sun-woo to pick you up after school."

"Just look for a car like this one, understood?"

"Yes."

Finally, all seven members piled into the vehicle and drove away.

"Y/N-ssi." Someone beckons to you, prompting you to turn around.

"Hello." You greet. "My name, Y/N."

"I know, I called you that." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm Young-Jae, I'm assigned to show you around the school, so keep up."

"Keep up?" You furrow your brows at the phrase.

"Yeah, it means don't be slow." He scoffs. "What are you five?"

"No, my name, Y/N." You gesture to yourself.

He irritably clicks his tongue. "Yeah, you said that twice, now come on."

After about a half-hour tour of the school, Young-Jae had bite his tongue every few seconds in answer to your absurd questions. Seriously, how do you not know any of the stuff here, like a water fountain. Were you born under a rock, or are you just dumb?

Then a bright bulb went out in his head, yeah, it will undoubtedly be a memorable first day of school for you. He comes to a halt in the middle of his stroll, which causes you to come to a halt as well. "Hey, wanna see a cool spot that no one else knows about?"

"Cool…?" Your brow furrows with interest.

"Yeah, you'll enjoy this." He lies.

"O-okay." You blithely agree. Too easy, he thought.

He snatches your wrist and drags you over campus, your small legs struggling to keep up with his speed. He then comes to a halt in the middle of the corridor, in front of an old, worn-out door. "We've arrived."

You peer around behind him, your gaze scanning the door. "What is it?"

"Oh, there are so many great things you could play with." He responds in a phony happy tone that you miss.

If there was anything nice that came out of the facility, it was the unlimited quantity of toys you were given to keep you entertained in the ten-by-ten-foot box room.

"I-I can g-o in-sside?" You questioned.

"Sure you can!" He opens the door and then shoves you inside. "Have fun!"

Then he shuts the door and doesn't bother to switch on the lights for you. You stare about in the darkness until you hear a click that causes your head to jerk up. "H-hello?"

But all you're met with is silence.

And suddenly, the darkness merely brings back the unpleasant memories you're trying to erase. You start grabbing your chest and squeezing it repeatedly, striving to keep your whimpers silent. Your eyes are closed as you strive to remain quiet; otherwise, someone could discover you and scold you for being so… weak…

"Hello, 007." An artificial voice interrupted your thoughts, forcing you to startle and open your eyes.

Your wide eyes landed on a purple three-dimensional holographic lady, and your eyes began to glow violet again as you stared at the unknown woman in front of you.

"Do not be afraid 007, I am only here to assist you." The woman speaks robotically.

"My name is Genesis, and I am a three-dimensional artificial intelligence. Dr. Hyon Kwan created me. Also known as for you, Mister."

masterpost | two | four