Feels Like Home - ch. 8
summary: Emotional Support Werewolves. You never thought you’d hear those words in the same sentence. As a beta yourself, it should be insulting. It would be if it weren’t for the fact the Bangtan pack provides these services to other werewolves separated from their packs. Your refusal to take advantage of such services only lasts until one difficult night in particular, where being separated from your parents’ pack is too hard to handle on your own. Who knew your roommate’s insistence would eventually win you over?
pairing: ot7 x f!reader, ot7 x ot7, ot7 x original character(s)
genre: written fic with some smau chapters, Werewolf AU, college AU, ABO verse, fluff, (some) angst, eventual romance, comedy
chapter word count: 3.8k
chapter warnings: none.
permanent taglist (open): @yoongiofmine @xianav @lilacdreams-00 @emmmui @cursedblood707 @hqtetsurou @geauxlsu79 @lyra0cassiopeia @halesandy @lunaoceanchild @annoyingtimemachinee @babycoffeefire @darlinggod-sweetvillain @yu-justme @rageyoudamnednerd @bubblytaetae @aurel1ia @valhallawhispers @somelazysundays @cuteipat @borahae-reads @dahliasbouqet @funkylittlebisexuall @wrmnssoul @saweetspoiled @infatuatedghost @black-rose-29 @hopeoncrackkk @atinymonbebestay @nabiolive @bands-r-my-heros @idontevenknow75 @m4gg13-g @yoongiigolden @velvetskize @mintsugarmy @moonacholy @toughbook @blank-et-noir @savagemickey03 @kpopmultistantrashsstuff
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“Who are you texting?”
You startle at the sound of Taehyung’s voice beside you, nearly dropping your phone on your face as you rush to close out of your conversation with Mari. Your heart gives a violent kick when you glance over at him, noticing the way his eyes squint at you in his sleepiness and the way his hair is falling haphazardly across his face. You get the urge to brush some of it from his eyes, but clamp your hand tighter around your phone to refrain.
“My roommate,” you sigh, watching with a small smile as he stretches his arms above his head with a soft grunt. “Sorry she woke us up. She wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
He peeks at you from beneath his lashes, letting out a long huff of air before pushing himself into a seated position, running a hand through his hair. “‘S okay. She didn’t need to run away though…”
You snort and follow his lead, sitting up and hugging the blanket a little closer to your chest, pleased by the fact none of his scent has faded. “That’s what I was telling her. She’s probably just so used to kicking me out when her boyfriend is here that…”
You trail off when he lifts an eyebrow at you, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. Your face heats and you quickly amend, “Not that this is the same thing, but–”
He scrunches his nose with a chuckle. “But if she’s going to ask for privacy when she has guests, it’s only fair that she does the same. I get it. No need to get all flustered, pretty beta.”
You bite back the embarrassed whimper you feel clawing at your throat, fighting every instinct you have not to shy away from him when he nudges his elbow against yours. If there’s anything you hate more than being so easily flustered it’s how easily embarrassed you get from just how flustered you are.
It’s a vicious cycle, truly.
His grin seems to widen at the state of you, but instead of commenting on it further, he just sighs and plays with his phone. “It’s a good thing she woke us up, actually. I have a class in thirty minutes.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh! I’m sorry if I kept you from anything–”
He shakes his head before you can finish your thought, offering you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t have offered to come over if I had anything planned.” He pauses, taking a moment to observe you. “How are you feeling though? Any better?”
You sit silently, checking in with yourself. Your body definitely doesn’t hurt as much as it did before you’d gotten some rest and your mind is much less of a mess than it was before he showed up. You smile, a small and shy thing. “I’m feeling a lot better. Thank you for coming over.”
He shrugs off your thanks, hand twitching at his side like he wants to do something before he thinks better of it. Heaving in a sigh, he pushes himself off the bed and stretches. “I need to go home and grab my things for class.” He heads to the door to slide into his shoes, glancing back at you. “Are you going to be okay?”
You nod. “Mari said she’ll be back soon.”
His relief is obvious in the way his shoulders relax. “Good.”
The two of you sit in an awkward silence, neither one of you seeming to know what to say to end your time together. His eyes sweep over you, but for once it doesn’t make you nervous. In fact, you feel oddly calm, still wrapped up in the blanket he’d scented for you.
His smile softens. “Text me if you need anything?”
You nod. “K.”
He shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. “Take care, pretty beta, and get some more rest.”
“Bye Taehyung,” you call. “Thank you again!”
“Anytime,” he says softly before closing the door behind him.
You stare at the space he previously occupied, then at the food still littering your desk and the bed that is still warm beside you. You sink back against your pillows and wipe a hand over your face, still far too sleepy to think too long and hard about the past couple of hours and what they could mean.
They don’t mean anything, really. Except maybe that Taehyung is a good guy with natural instincts as an omega to comfort and restore peace.
Mari doesn’t understand the dynamics of wolves. None of this has to mean anything.
At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you drift back off into sleep, firing off a quick text to Mari to let her know it’s safe to come home.
Roomie Mari: Great! I can’t wait to hear aaaaall about his visit! 😉
By the time Taehyung gets home after his evening classes, the pack is already waiting for him with dinner in the living room. He pauses at the sight, a bit surprised. They hadn’t actually eaten anywhere except the dining room since they’d started living together — not as a pack anyway. The change in location makes him wary.
“We got you a plate already, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin calls with a smile, motioning him toward the couch. “Come sit.”
He narrows his eyes, but drops his bag by the door and toes out of his shoes. He’s slow to make his way over to them, taking his time to take in the scene in front of him. Everyone is seated near the coffee table, where the ingredients for bossam and ramyeon are spread.
His eyebrows furrow. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Hoseok claims, quickly gathering pork and radish onto a piece of lettuce. He carefully offers it to Taehyung, one hand beneath the other just in case he drops it. He smiles brightly when Taehyung accepts it, chewing carefully as he settles onto the couch with furrowed brows.
“Why are we eating in the living room then?” he mumbles, words muffled around his food. He motions toward the table, dazedly accepting a bowl of ramyeon that’s passed to him. “And why bossam?”
“I had a craving,” Yoongi grunts with the lift of an eyebrow, carefully piling ingredients onto a piece of lettuce. “Does everything have to have a reason?”
“Well, no,” he allows. “But–”
“Good,” Namjoon interjects, sliding a can of beer his way. “Then eat.”
Taehyung pouts into his food, eating a bit begrudgingly. They’re all acting weird, no matter what they say. After a moment of eating in complete silence – something else that’s uncharacteristic of them – he huffs. “Is this about the beta?”
Seokjin shoves two bites of food into his mouth in quick succession, wide eyes avoiding the omega’s gaze.
Taehyung narrows his eyes and looks around the table before settling on his alpha. “Hyung?”
Namjoon sighs. “We were hoping to eat first before we talked.”
Taehyung sets his bowl down. “‘M not hungry. What do you want to talk about?”
“You may not be hungry,” Yoongi grumps with a roll of his eyes. “But we are.”
“Yeah, we didn’t have a lunch date with a pretty beta,” Jungkook teases, earning a laugh from Jimin.
“It wasn’t a date,” Taehyung groans, sitting back against the couch.
“It would be fine if it was,” Hoseok shrugs. “It’s not like we’re telling you not to date.”
“That’s great to know,” Taehyung says with fake enthusiasm. “It still wasn’t a date.”
Yoongi sighs. “Can I be blunt?”
Taehyung lifts a brow. “Aren’t you always?”
“Yah,” Yoongi snaps, but there’s laughter behind the sound. He rolls his eyes, lips twitching around the smile he tries to hide. He glares at Jimin and Jungkook as they giggle. “Your next heat is coming up soon, right?”
Tae’s smile slips, cheeks warming at the reminder. “Not until after the full moon.”
Yoongi blinks at him as if waiting for him to realize something. When the omega remains silent, Yoongi nods slowly and takes a bite of ramen. “Which is next week.”
“Okay…” the omega says slowly, drawing out the word. “And?”
“Which means your heat is only two or three weeks away,” the beta says simply, as if that explains everything.
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. “Can someone explain what he’s getting at, please?”
“Taehyungie,” Jimin sighs, scooting closer and looping their arms together as he rests his head on Tae’s shoulder. “We’re just worried.”
“Why? About what?”
“You always get…” Hoseok starts, then stops, considering his words.
“Clingy,” Yoongi supplies bluntly.
“It’s not a bad thing!” Jimin adds hastily.
“We’re just concerned you may be…” Seokjin continues, then frowns.
“Clinging,” Yoongi drones.
Seokjin’s expression flattens.
“Hyung,” Namjoon sighs with a shake of his head. Reaching toward Taehyung, he squeezes the omega’s shoulder with a small smile. “What everyone is trying to say is that we’re worried you may be getting a little attached to the beta you visited today.”
Taehyung’s heart sinks at the same time his pulse races, his mouth opening and closing a few times around soundless words. He feels heat settle over his cheeks, spreading quickly down his neck, as he looks around the table. Are they serious? They’re really blaming this all on his heat?
“I’m not clinging to anyone,” he defends, truly offended. “Just because my heat is coming up doesn’t mean what I’m doing is because of that. I’m just worried about her. You met her too!”
He turns accusing eyes on his alpha.
Namjoon withdraws his hand and shifts where he’s seated.
“You can’t tell me you couldn’t sense her anxiety about being so far from her pack. And to go without seeing them for so long!”
“That’s her pack’s problem,” Yoongi grumbles into his food. He yelps when he gets an elbow to his gut from Seokjin, shoulders slumping as he sighs. “Look, I get wanting to help her. I just think you need to be honest with yourself. Do you actually want this beta as a client or do you see her more as a friend? Because right now you’re not actually treating her like a client.”
“I don’t treat my clients any differently than I’m treating her…” Taehyung points out, genuinely confused.
“Sure,” Yoongi nods. “But she’s not a client yet. She hasn’t even made up her mind about it, right? And yet you dropped what you were doing earlier to rush over to her. You brought her food and fell asleep with her.”
“You say that like I should have just ignored her.”
Yoongi groans. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He throws his hands up. “Can someone else explain?”
“I…” Hoseok begins, looking between the two of them. “I think what Yoongi-hyung is trying to say is that he’s worried this may turn into something…unhealthy for you. It’s really easy in our line of work for people to take advantage of us or try to get our services for free — to, essentially, use us.”
He holds up his hand when Taehyung’s lips part around a response.
“I’m not saying she’s going to, but she could also do it completely unintentionally. She knows what your job is, she knows you’re good at comforting people, so she may seek you out for that. I think you should consider the boundaries you want to have before you get to know each other more. If you want her as a client, you need to make it known you won’t do the things you did today for free. If you want her as a friend or…”
“A girlfriend,” Jungkook teases, to which Jimin giggles.
Hoseok bites back his smile. “Right. If you’re interested in her…you also need to establish boundaries. To make it known you won’t always be available when she needs you — because you have paying clients and because you may not have the emotional capacity to be there for her on your off hours. You need to rest too, Taehyungie. You can’t be the hero all the time.”
Taehyung deflates a little by the end of Hoseok’s speech. He gets it, he does, but he’s not really trying to be anyone’s hero. He just…wants to make you feel better.
“You’re right. I just…” he sighs. “There’s just something…”
“Something about her that makes you want to help her,” Namjoon finishes for him. When Taehyung raises his gaze to meet the alpha’s, Namjoon smiles sadly. “I get it. I felt it too.”
Yoongi looks between the two of them with furrowed brows. “So, what? You feel bad for her? Is her situation really that bad? Is she helpless?”
The words “charity case” bounce around Taehyung’s brain and he scowls at his hyung.
“What?” the older man asks.
“You’re being a dick,” Jimin scoffs, nudging his nose into Taehyung’s neck in an effort to comfort him. It helps a little.
“I’m not trying to be,” he defends. “There are hundreds of people on campus, many of which probably need more comfort and support than they have. The world is full of lonely people, sad people, people who have lived really hard lives. So, I’m just trying to figure out what makes this beta so special.”
“People don’t need to have special circumstances to be worthy of comfort and support,” Jungkook argues, chiming in for the first time, eyebrows pinched in thought.
“They don’t,” Yoongi allows, clearly frustrated they’re not seeing his point. “But why her? Why do you feel so strongly about helping her?”
Taehyung stares at the table full of food, not really seeing what’s in front of him. His mind is too full of thoughts, of the questions Yoongi keeps asking, of the questions he never really asked for himself. Why you? Why does he want to help you? Because he has a heart and can see you’re struggling, even if you try to hide it.
But Yoongi is right, there are a lot of people in the world who could use their help and they can’t help them all. Their time is too limited to be doing these things for free.
“You always say we can’t save everyone,” he murmurs, finally drawing his gaze away from the table long enough to look at Yoongi. The man’s eyes soften when their eyes meet. “But who’s to say helping one person won’t have a domino effect? That the one person I decide to help won’t then go on to help someone else or that it won't influence their interactions with people in the future? We’re all connected, hyung. Helping just one person isn’t really just helping one person. And I can’t just turn a blind eye to someone who needs help.”
“You’re gonna burn out thinking like that,” Yoongi points out. “You’ll spread yourself too thin or get hurt.”
Taehyung shrugs. “Then I’ll deal with that when it happens.”
“Tae…” Jimin says quietly.
Taehyung grunts, carefully untangling himself from Jimin. He bumps his chin against Jimin’s hand, lightly scenting him when the omega whines. “I don’t know whether she’ll be a client or not. It’s not something we’ve talked about recently, but we will. If she wants to pay for our services, I’m not going to stop her, but I’m also not going to turn my back on her either. Not when it’s clear she needs someone, not when it’s clear her pack has essentially abandoned her.”
Taehyung shoots Namjoon a look. “Tell me it’s not abandonment when they let their own daughter go so far away from them and not even attempt to see her or make sure she’s doing okay. They’re alphas, you can’t tell me they don’t know how painful it is to be away from pack for even a few weeks, let alone years.”
Namjoon purses his lips and doesn’t argue, jaw twitching as he averts his gaze.
“That’s what I thought,” the omega sighs, turning his attention back to Yoongi. “Look, I appreciate your concern.” His gaze flicks around the small circle they’ve formed, addressing all of them now. “And I get that this could get confusing and I’m not–” He huffs. “I’m not trying to replace her pack or anything. I just think…I don’t know. I just think this whole thing is unfair for her and I…want to help. I can’t explain why it’s so important to me or why I care so much about her specifically, I just do.”
Silence settles in the room and Taehyung lowers his gaze, picking at his nails and hoping they understand. Hoping they don’t keep pestering him about it. He understands they’re just doing this because they care and don’t want to see him hurt or taken advantage of, but…but, really, what’s the harm in helping someone?
“Okay,” Namjoon’s voice breaks through the silence and he offers a small smile when Taehyung peeks at him. “This doesn’t have to be a big thing–” He shoots a look at Yoongi when the beta rolls his eyes. “--but if it does turn into a big thing, then we’re here if you need us.”
The tension eases from Taehyung’s shoulders and he smiles – small and thankful. “Thank you, hyung.”
Namjoon nods. “Go get some rest. We’ll save some leftovers in case you get hungry later.”
“Thanks,” Taehyung repeats, exchanging a private smile with him before turning to do just that. The group is eerily quiet while they watch him grab his bag and he just knows the moment he’s out of the room, they’ll be discussing things more. Normally, he’d be annoyed by it, would want to stick around to further defend himself, but he doesn’t see the point. They’ll either understand or they won’t and none of them have the power to make his decisions for him.
Well, technically, Namjoon could very easily influence his decisions, but he would never abuse his power like that. Not unless one of them was doing something that’d put them or someone else at risk – something else that would never happen.
They’re not the type of pack that likes to control each other. They respect each other’s decisions and allow one another to live how they want to live, only discussing the things that may impact all of them or the things that everyone may be concerned about.
Apparently, he just happens to be one of those things lately.
He huffs and closes his bedroom door behind him, dropping down onto his bed and closing his eyes. He is a bit tired, even though he’d spent most of his time with you sleeping. It always takes a bit out of him when he’s around high or intense energy, can’t help but feel it as if it were his own.
He knows it’s an unhealthy habit, a sign of codependency, but sometimes he can’t be bothered to fight it.
It only takes a few minutes for there to be a knock on the door and Taehyung pushes himself up onto his elbows to watch as Jimin peeks his head in. The omega’s expression softens when he sees Taehyung in bed and he quickly squeezes through the door, closing it behind him. Taehyung hums and scoots over, making space for Jimin, who pulls the blankets up over them once they’re settled.
There are words dancing on the edge of Jimin’s tongue, Taehyung can tell by the way his eyes shift across Taehyung’s chest, by the way Jimin’s fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
He waits patiently for his fellow omega to speak.
“You know Yoongi only mentioned it because he cares, right?”
Taehyung sighs, closing his hands around Jimin’s and rolling onto his back, pulling the omega along with him. They tangle their legs together, Jimin’s framing Taehyung’s hip, and wrap their arms around one another.
This is what comfort is, Taehyung thinks as his skin warms and his heart rate evens, muscles losing some of their tension as he melts into Jimin. This is the thing you’re deprived of, the luxury of coming home to people who are so willing to check in on you, so willing to cuddle and cradle you when you need it.
“I know,” Taehyung mutters eventually, burying his face in Jimin’s hair and breathing in his familiar scent. And he does know, he knows bringing things like this up is just Yoongi’s way of telling them he’s paying attention. That he cares and wants things to work out for them, wants them to make good decisions.
Still, it does sometimes feel like he’s the parent of the pack, wagging his finger and reminding them to behave. Meanwhile Namjoon is the enforcer, only baring his teeth when it’s completely necessary.
Jimin’s quiet for a moment, drawing patterns on Taehyung’s chest with his finger. “How did your visit with the beta go?”
“The beta has a name,” Taehyung laughs.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “How did your visit with Yn go then?”
“It went…well, I think? She seemed calmer by the time I left. I–” he pauses, wondering just how much he should say. Wondering if he’ll get scolded for blurring the lines some more.
Tae sighs, glad Jimin isn’t looking at him so he doesn’t have to hide his blush. “I scented a blanket for her.”
Jimin’s hand pauses against his chest, but he’s quick to continue the soothing patterns. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes, remembering the way you’d shivered while watching him do it. He’d ignored it, of course, not wanting to make it obvious that he noticed – not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But the shift in your scent, the pheromones that wafted from you, was pretty hard to ignore.
“Did it help?” Jimin questions, lifting his chin to get a good look at him. A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corners of his lips and Taehyung would be blind not to notice the glint in his eye.
“I think so,” he answers honestly. “It didn’t take her long to fall asleep once I wrapped it around her.”
Jimin hums. “Cute.”
Taehyung shakes his head, caught between a smile at the memory and a frown at the reason he was there to begin with. “She was so tired, Chim.”
Jimin sighs and shifts a little closer, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s frame and burying his face in the man’s neck. “It’s a good thing you went over then, hm?”
“Yeah…” Taehyung sighs, contemplative. “I guess.”
“No,” Jimin insists, nipping at his shoulder and pulling a hiss from his lungs. “None of that, Tae. You did a good thing. You’re such a good omega.”
Taehyung relaxes at the praise, can’t exactly help it, even if it’s coming from another omega. Yoongi’s words have planted seeds of doubt in his brain, growing far too fast for his liking. “Thank you, Chim.”
“Anytime, TaeTae,” Jimin mumbles, squeezing his arms around him. “Now decompress. Rest.”
And, really, who is Tae to argue?
"K," he mutters, smiling to himself when he remembers you saying the same thing when he'd told you to rest. He wonders if you did. He wonders if you're resting now.
"It's not a bad thing to care about people," Jimin mutters quietly, as if as an afterthought.
"Yeah," he sighs, squeezing the man's hip. "I know."
"She's lucky to have you," the omega adds drowsily.
And, as Taehyung drifts into a light sleep, he can't help but hope that you feel the same.
next (coming soon)
Little do You Know | OT7 | Sixty
Pair: Bangtan (ot7) x f!reader
Summary: In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.
Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, playmate au, idol au.
Chapter warnings: HERE WE ARE!!!! Our fave series is finally back on the road!!!! I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter and that you are excited about what’s to come! How do we feel about the change in banner? I love the old one, but I feel like season two needed a new one!
VOTE HERE FOR THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!
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It took you two days to pack up your things and fill your car with everything you decided to bring back to Seoul with you. Most of your houseware, like pans and pots, bedding and decor pieces were still in boxes from your recent move back to Daegu, and your clothes easily fit three suitcases. A few of your old furniture were in a storage unit in Seoul and you’d take back whatever hadn't been sold yet once you figured out where you were going to live from now on.
Your old apartment belonged to Nolichingu, so going back there was out of question, since you didn’t work there anymore. You also had enough savings to rent a nice place, but you still hoped to get a good deal on rent, since the prices in the capital tended to be very high, and you guessed you’d be spending half, if not more, of your time either at the dorm or at the boys’ places.
The drive from Daegu to Seoul was a long one, you had to be on the road for hours, but your boyfriends had been texting you throughout the drive to make sure you were okay and tell you about their day. They were filming a new Samsung commercial and shooting some promotional pictures today, so they didn’t really know when they would be home.
But they had given you clearance to be allowed into their dorm apartment complex, and the doorman and security guards knew who you were anyway, so you didn’t have any trouble parking at their guest spot in the garage. You picked up your bag and a smaller carry-on suitcase that would serve you for a few days, not wanting to clutter the dorm with your boxes and things, only to move them out again once you found your place.
The elevator ride to the seventh floor was a nostalgic one. Everything had changed so much since the first time you stepped foot in those hallways and walked inside those doors.
You had been so sure you would never be back here again.
You were so overcome with emotion you could almost hear their voices inside the empty dorm.
“If you’re not going to help, stay out of my way!” Seokjin’s voice was so real you had to do a double take. “Jungkookah, drop that!”
“But it’s gonna look prettier here, hyung!” you could hear the pout on the maknae’s voice.
The more you walked inside, the more you realized your brain wasn’t pulling tricks on you and the seven men were actually there, not where they told you they would be. Jin was in the kitchen finishing the icing on a cake, while Jungkook looked for a nice place to put a vase with your favorite flowers.
“This is stupid, you know it’s not her birthday, right?” you heard Yoongi speaking from the living room.
He had purple and pink balloons all around himself as Tae and Jimin tied them together in pretty clusters.
“You’re only salty because you don’t know how to tie them, hyung.” Hoseok mocked as he tried putting up a ‘welcome home’ bunting up on the wall and above the TV.
You watched them from the hallway, with the biggest stupid smile on your face, until arms wrapped around your frame and pulled you back. A big hand covered your mouth to muffle your squeal and you relaxed as soon as you recognized the earthy and fresh smell of Namjoon.
"You were supposed to text us when you arrived in Seoul, jagiya." Namjoon hushed, lightly pressing your back against the wall of the hallway. "Now everyone is going to be upset for not having time to finish your surprise."
"But I'm surprised, Joonie." you pouted.
Sure they had asked you to text them once you passed the 'Welcome to Seoul' sign, but you had chucked it off to them being over worried, and not so they could rush and finish your surprise.
But Namjoon didn't seem to mind so much having you there early, if the way he was looking at your mouth was anything to go by. And you knew just what to do to entice him, licking your lips and batting your eyes at him.
Your bag dropped to the floor as your hands rested on the back of his neck. You hadn't kissed any of them yet, not since you had quit, so you were dying to taste Joon's lips right now.
The man let you pull him down until your lips were pressed together in a sweet and innocent kiss. At least it was innocent as it started, before Namjoon licked between your lips for you to part then. Your tongue met his willingly, jaw relaxing as he chased your tongue with his and pressed your body between his and the wall behind you.
"Maybe you should text the group chat now, saying it will take you another thirty minutes to arrive." his lips dragged over your jaw, kissing down your neck. And you were this close to agreeing with him too.
"Nice try, Joon-ah." a second voice brought you out of your haze. Hoseok had just caught you. "Don't I get a hello kiss too, baby?"
Namjoon moved off of you, but you remained in your spot by the wall, nodding as the older man took his best friend's place. Hoseok leaned in and took your bottom lip between his teeth as you looked at the leader over his shoulder.
"Don't mind him." Hoseok’s forefinger touched your chin, bringing your face and gaze back to him when he let your lip get back into place with a little wobble. "Joon likes to watch."
You let out a deep breath as your hands clutched to Hobi's shirt, watching him lean in again, ever so slowly, until his parted lips met yours. His tongue swiped and pushed yours, deepening the kiss harder than Namjoon had before him, no doubt putting on a show for the younger man who was watching you.
You should be ashamed of the way your legs parted slightly, just in case he wanted to slot his between them. So much for taking things slow in a new relationship.
Hoseok’s hands squeezed your hips one time, two times, and he let go of you altogether. Leaving you breathless and a little hazy.
"I thought I heard baby's voice." Jimin was the third one to catch you. "Good to know I'm not losing my mind just yet."
"Minie." you sighed, grabby hands and half lidded eyes pleading him to come closer.
His head tilted to the side, a teasing smirk on his full lips as he didn’t move. So you said fuck it and went to him instead, hand tangling in his shorter locks, as he allowed you to kiss into his mouth.
Jimin kissed you back just as fiercely, despite his initial teasing, arms going around your waist to keep you closer to him.
"Should we go tell the others you're here?" he asked and you nodded happily. "Or should we go make it up for lost time?"
Your lips opened and closed as you tried to make a decision, both options sounding perfect to you right now.
"Don't torture her, Jiminie. We'll have plenty of time." Namjoon said, and you suddenly remembered that he and Hobi were still there.
"Let's go see the others." you said with as much self control as you could muster.
Once in the living room, the remaining four men stopped dead in their tracks. Taehyung yelled a 'surprise' for good measure, as Seokjin blinked with the piping bag still in his hand and the half finished cake proving they were late.
"Tokki!" Jungkook was the first to reach you, body hitting yours with force, but not enough to hurt.
"Have you been working out more?" you giggled as he lifted you in the air with ease, mimicking kdrama scenes.
"Maybe." he said sheepishly as you squeezed his arms and shoulders. He was definitely training more.
"Jungkookie might leave the band to become a professional boxer any of these days." Jin said as he rushed to finish the cake.
It looked delicious as it was, and you almost regretted catching their surprise before it was done. Almost.
You softly let go of Jungkook to say hello to your oldest boyfriend; face flushing with the thought that these were your boyfriends now.
"How long have you been here?" Jin asked as you got closer, no doubt noticing your slightly swollen and red lips from kissing three of his members so recently.
"Not long at all." you assured. "Do you need any help, oppa?"
"Don't worry, sweetheart. Hope you'll like the cake." he smiled, gaze still stuck to your lips, so you puckered them as an invitation.
And of course Seokjin took it, placing a small peck there.
You continued your rounds, hugging Taehyung so tightly he giggled, then sitting next to Yoongi on the couch.
"Did you have a nice drive, kitten?" the latter asked as you nodded mid yawn. "Tired?"
"I'm alright, just want to try to go to bed early tonight." you told him and the others who came to sit in the living room with you. "Could barely sleep last night."
"Too excited to see us?" Tae's beautiful face split into an even prettier smile.
"Actually, yeah." you giggled.
Ever since you made the easy decision to go back to Seoul, and accepted Jungkook’s question of becoming the eight piece of their puzzle, you had been extremely excited to come see them at once. You could have stayed in Daegu a little longer, could have searched for a place of your own before making the drive, but you had stayed away for too long already.
“I can sleep here tonight, right?” you checked.
Yoongi nodded, since he was closest to you, but Jungkook answered: “You can stay forever if you want.”
You laughed, because of course he’d be the one to offer that. Once the cake was done, Seokjin joined the rest of you in the living room.
You really loved his new, longer haircut, even if you had Mina, the former hairstylist, to thank for it.
“Since we are on the subject.” Jin started, getting comfortable on the corner of the couch. “There’s a vacancy in my building right now, maybe you’d like to take a look at that apartment?”
Hoseok scoffed: “She’s not gonna live in your building, hyung, but nice try.”
Seokjin’s building was very nice, especially since all the apartments had a pretty green terrace. And it was only a two minute walk from the dorm, practically across the street, and relatively close to all of the other members who lived in that same neighborhood. Hobi was the only one who lived further away.
“I’m sure it would be very nice, oppa, but I can’t really afford rent in Hanam the Hill without burning through my savings.” you hoped you were letting him down easy. “And I’m back at school now, so I shouldn’t spend so much just on a living space.”
“I always wanted to date a college student.” Namjoon thought out loud, face going red when he realized he actually said it.
“Ignoring that new fetish.” Jimin quipped, bringing your attention to him. “What if you didn’t have to pay rent?”
You hoped Jimin wasn’t about to ask you to move in with them, because that seemed too sudden, even if there was no way you could take things slow with them like you had initially thought. You also couldn’t accept any of them paying for your living arrangements, so you told them so.
“That’s not what I mean, actually.” Jimin corrected with a sly smile. “What if there was a place near us that you lived in before, and that already had an owner who would let you live there for free?”
“I thought you said HYBE had sold the playmate apartment?” you were confused, if the apartment upstairs was what Jimin was hinting at.
“They did, but I know who bought it.”
That piece of information surprised even his members, who had no idea about any of that. Namjoon remembered seeing a couple realtors in and out of the building while he was doing his workout downstairs, believing them to have interested buyers in the only vacant apartment of the building. But he never really saw any of the possible new tenants.
“Who?” Tae asked with a boyish curiosity.
“Me.” Jimin admitted for the first time.
He had been inside the playmate apartment when a realtor came over to show the place to a couple who was thinking of buying the home. And once the initial shock of getting caught there passed, Jimin realized he wasn’t ready to see the apartment belonging to anybody else. So he finalized the deal, paid for the apartment and signed the documents an hour later.
The hyungs were always raving about how important it was to invest their money on things like land and real estates anyway, he didn’t think it would be such a bad idea. And it was even better now, since it meant Jimin could lease the apartment back to you, and you could stay closer to them than if you had to look for a new place in a cheaper district.
“I can’t live there for free, Minie.”
“You can pay me in other ways.” he shrugged.
“Yah, don’t be disgusting.” Jin rolled his eyes and Jimin’s face heated up. It wasn’t quite usual to have the man blushing, unless you were complimenting him.
“That’s not where I was getting at!” he defended himself. “If you want to do something about paying back, you can make a donation to a charity every month, because I won’t accept your money.”
So much for your plan of sleeping early! The more time you spent with the boys, the more you wanted to stay awake and enjoy their company. Especially since you knew they would be stuck with work for a little while now, even if you all promised to still make time for each other.
It was midnight when you sneaked out of Yoongi’s bedroom, the man whose bed you were sharing tonight. You pitter pattered to the kitchen to steal yet another slice of the cake Seokjin had baked you. It would have been a successful mission if Taehyung’s bedroom wasn’t so close to the kitchen and if you hadn’t dropped a knife so carelessly into the sink.
“Who do we have here, having a midnight snack?” you found Tae leaning against the counter, crossed arms and sleepy face.
“Shit, did I wake you?” you cursed with your mouth full of cake.
“Yeah, so now the least you could do is share.”
You swallowed the cake and offered your plate for him to get some, but the man had a different idea. His hands went to the sides of your face as your hands were too busy holding a spoon and the plate with the cake. Tilting your head to the left, Taehyung licked a bold stripe across your lips, collecting the frosting you had missed. Your eyes closed instantly and you chased his lips as he tried to pull away from you.
And Tae wasn’t one to deny his baby, so he kissed you again, letting his tongue taste the cake, and you taste his minty toothpaste. With a little teasing bite to your lips, he pulled away. And your busy hands couldn’t stop him.
Taehyung wiped at his bottom lip and went back into his bedroom, leaving you hot and bothered and with a half eaten piece of cake, but you craved a different kind of snack now.
“Someone looks frustrated.” Seokjin’s voice brought you out of your sulking. “Is the cake that bad?”
“Cake is perfect, oppa.” you shook your head. “Want to feed it to me?”
Jin chuckled, because you knew him too well. He had been standing there long enough to see Taehyung leaving you dry after a kiss that looked hot from where he was standing. And by your dilated pupils, his cake wasn't your main interest right now.
"It's late, you should be in bed." he said instead, taking the cake and spoon from your hands.
"Want to kiss me goodnight, then?"
There it was, Jin thought with a small laugh. At least that was less risky than feeding you. So as you stayed on the tip of your toes and reached for his face, he let you. And you kissed him, slow and steady, nails scratching his scalp as his full lips molded over yours.
But as your hand traveled down his torso, Jin pulled away and kissed the top of your head.
Just as quickly as he showed up, Jin left. You huffed, cake completely forgotten. This had been happening all day, since you stepped foot into the apartment. The boys would tease you and then leave you wanting more.
It wasn't fair, and now you had an ache between your legs that was caused by ten weeks of no relief, not even by your own hands or toys.
At the start of the dark period you spent away from the boys, you didn't even think about pleasuring yourself. And after that, it felt weird to unpack your vibrators while in your father’s house, sharing a wall with your younger sister.
You only realized you were opening the door to Jungkook’s bedroom when the man put his phone down to look at you with a pretty smile. His face was only illuminated by the phone light, but still enough to guide you towards him.
"Missed me already, tokki?" it really wasn't the time for that damn cocky smile. "Does hyung know you escaped?"
"I'll be back soon, just needed to see you." you said from the foot of his bed.
"Is that all you need, baby?"
It was dark in the room, but he could still see the way you rubbed your legs together underneath Yoongi hyung's shirt, so Jungkook sat on the bed. The sheet that covered him fell to his waist as you bit your lip as the small stud on his right nipple caught the light from the phone. From what you could see it was all healed up and ready to be played with.
“No, that’s not all.”
You climbed on his bed, straddling the man over the sheets, hands resting on his thick shoulders and lips clashing onto his. Jungkook’s hands were on your hips, trying to keep you steady, instead of allowing you to rock them. He was kissing you back, but other than that he wasn’t giving you much else.
“Koo.” you whined.
“I’m sorry, noona.” he said as his lips left yours. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?” you pouted as you sat back over his legs.
“Can’t.” he shook his head, looking as pained as you felt. “It’s your punishment for leaving us.”
Your brows furrowed for all of two seconds before you understood. So the boys had forgiven you, of course, but they still wanted to "punish" you for what you did. And apparently their punishment came in the form of ignoring your advances, of teasing you and leaving you bothered and wanting more.
It was cruel.
“But, Kookie…” you started, kissing down his neck, voice smooth and seductive. “Don’t you miss me? Don’t you want to fuck your girlfriend?”
Jungkook was almost cracking, you could feel his dick hardening under the covers. His hands slid to your ass, squeezing the flesh.
“Kitten.” Yoongi’s warning voice was stern and it sent a chill down your spine. “Come.”
You grumbled under your breath, but left Jungkook’s lap to walk to the older man as you stared at your own feet. Yoongi took your hand and pulled you out of the maknae’s bedroom and into his own at the end of the hall.
“Yoon.” you cried in frustration, arms going around his neck and lips to his jaw. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You know why.” he said, but you felt his breath grow heavy as you made your way to his lips.
“But I want you… I said I was sorry.” you insisted, hand pulling on his hair to make him groan. “You said you forgive me.”
Yoongi looked at your lips and the tip of his tongue wet his bottom one. He never agreed with this stupid idea anyway. What was the point of depriving you of them, if they would be deprived of you by default? So he let you kiss into his mouth, let you suck on his tongue as his hands kept you close to him.
Until he gathered enough self restraint to push you away gently.
“This was Hoseok’s idea, just so you know.” and with that, he got back into his bed and turned away from you.
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YA'ABURNEE DRABBLE [HYBRID! BTS OT7 X HUMAN! READER]
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summary: sneak peek of hyrbid ot7 x human reader "ya'aburnee" imagine (coming soon). The boys are patiently yet eagerly waiting for you at home, knowing you had another action-packed day, and can't wait to smother you and make sure you safely return home. But come to find out that you are injured at the front door in the arms of your older colleague, and to make matters worse, how and why you were injured. (Y/N *reader* is a bit stubborn here lol)
genre: hybrid au | minor angst | fluff | slight humor
pairing: hybrid bts ot7 × human officer reader (mackenzie valley wolf! namjoon, giant cheetah! jin, snow leopard! yoongi, wolverine! hoseok, kodiak bear! taehyung, maned wolf! jimin, golden jackal! jungkook)
warnings: mentions of injury
word count: 3,988 (kind of got carried away)
masterpost | pt. 1
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.
"Chin, I'm really fine." You try to convince your platonic older brother when he finally stops in front of your apartment complex.
In disbelief, he scoffs. "Y/N, you went into an extraction mission alone, completely outnumbered, and as a result, you were nearly killed."
"Okay, technically I didn't go alone. I had Kono on standby, ready to call backup if anything went sideways." You argued.
He deadpans at you. "Yeah, exactly, stand by. While you went in to save Steve by yourself."
"What were you thinking?!"
You sigh, looking away. "Getting McGarrett back... They were going to torture him further if I haven't broken him out, and it was my fault anyways!"
"You could've called me or Danny- or better yet, all of us to help you! You shouldn't have gone by yourself Y/N, you could've died!"
"They could've killed McGarrett if I haven't got there! And they weren't going to kill me, I had it under control... kind of." You mumbled the last part.
Chin exhales deeply. "You're lucky Kono called us in time and not having been far from your location."
You hesitated, realizing he was correct. You were a bit foolish to go on your now not-so-secret rescue mission into enemy territory without the proper support and guns. But they had to realize that you were growing impatient and that every second and minute that passed without getting any closer to saving Steve meant losing him to you bit by bit, something you couldn't have. You knew they wanted him back as much as you did, but with your worst fears overwhelming you, you made the impulsive choice to get McGarrett, leaving yourself exposed.
"Look, I know you want to protect all of us and do everything you can to help us when we're in trouble, but you need to understand that you can't do it all on your own. Sometimes you simply have to accept that some things aren't meant to be done alone; you need people, a team, and a family, and that's what we're here for. Second, you can't blame yourself for something beyond your control. You can't shield everyone from danger as much as you want because it can and will happen, either way. It will be difficult, but you have to accept it." He explains tenderly, looking at you with gentle eyes.
You trail your eyes up at him. "I know... I'm sorry, Chin..."
"Thank you for being there for me when I needed it."
He softly smiles. "Of course, you know I love you, right?"
"I know, I love you too." You nod returning the smile.
"Ohana mau loa." [Hawaiian Translation: Family forever]
"Ohana mau loa." You whispered as Chin pulled your foreheads together.
You stay together for a few more seconds until Chin separates. "Well, I hope you're ready for when you enter your apartment."
"Why would I need to be prepared?" Your brow furrows.
"Oh, you don't know? You'll see what I mean." He says this with a sly smile as he gets out of the car and walks up to your side.
He swings open your door and puts his arm under your armpits, hoisting you out of the car. "I can walk up to my door, thank you very much."
"Oh really?" He raises his brows. "Okay, fine, try taking another step without me."
He lets you go, and you try to regain your balance while hobbling with your sprained left ankle and clutching your aching side. You take another stride, certain that you can walk on your own, only to stumble and nearly fall, but quickly recover stability by gripping Chin's car.
From behind you, you could feel his smug grin. And when you slowly turn to face him, you scowl at the mocking expression on his face.
"Say it." His obnoxious smirk never faltered.
You continue to glare at him. "I need your help to get to the door..."
His smile widens. "What's the magic word?"
"What are you, five?" You squint at him.
"Actually, thirty-four. Twelve years older than you, so show some respect and say it." He replies.
You snort. "Old man. But a brain of a child."
"Oh, so you want me to leave you here. Fine by me." He takes a step back to the driver's seat.
"No-! Wait!" You briefly grumble under your breath. "Can you please take me up to my door?"
"Now was that so hard?" He then approaches you, throwing your arm across his shoulders.
Despite Chin's persistence to assist you to your apartment door, you did your best to lessen the weight and carry your own instead.
"You realize that the whole point of me helping you is to relieve you of the burden of doing all of the work yourself. Yet, you keep at it. He calls you out.
You drew your lips into a line. "I know... It's a habit, you know I'm not used to this."
"Yeah, but why don't you try to break that habit, like I said, you have people who care about you for a reason." He reminds you.
You nod. "I'll try."
Fortunately, your apartment building had elevators, so getting you to the third floor wasn't too problematic. Chin leads you two down the balcony, passing several of your neighbors' doors, to your front door.
You and Chin both notice the lights still on from the windows as you reach your apartment entrance. "Why are they still up? It's half past eleven."
Chin chuckles. "You're really asking that?"
You scrunch your brows. "Yes? Is that wrong?"
"Oh, dear Y/N, you have so much to learn, you're so oblivious." He laughs.
You grimace at his taunts. "What are you talking about? No, I'm not. And what are you doing?"
You interrupt Chin as he has his fist raised against the door. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to knock on the door."
"I have the key."
"You're not going to walk in by yourself, also it's better this way." He says.
"What do you mean 'better this way'? You don't have to bother them, Chin."
"Trust me, Y/N. They'd want to come to the front door for this." His mischievous smile returns.
You narrow your eyes. "I don't like this."
He ignores you and proceeds to noisily bang on your front door, making you cringe. "Did you have to knock that loud? They're hybrids, they have heightened hearing."
"You never know." He sings songs cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.
And within just two minutes the door opens, revealing a particularly happy bear-hybrid.
"Hey, what time is it? It's pretty late, isn't Y/N supposed to be home now?" Jimin peeks into the living room where Namjoon, Jungkook, and Taehyung sat on the long couch.
Jimin pouted as all three of the hybrids shrugged in response to their mate's question. He then enters the kitchen, where the three oldest were, Jin and Hoseok busy cleaning dishes, and Yoongi is seated at the island dining table, where all eight plates full of food were becoming colder by the minute, concentrating on his cell phone doing knows what.
"Does anyone realize how late it is now? Y/N isn't home yet." If you were there, you could have heard the pout in Jimin's words.
Upon hearing the maned wolf hybrid's voice, the three oldest turn their heads. "It is kind of late, it's already eleven-thirty."
"And the food is cold." Yoongi says, almost monotonously.
Jimin whines. "I miss her already. She should be home now, what if something happened to her? She did mention she had an important case today."
Hoseok's ears flatten; the wolverine hybrid was terrified of being hurt, or worse, having anyone close to him hurt. Being trapped in the fighting ring for so many years had its toll on him; he was never really a fighter in the first place, but rather a lover, as the saying goes.
"D-don't say that. I-I'm sure Y/N's okay. She was most likely caught up with paperwork at their office." He reassures Jimin, but if he were being truly honest, he mostly just meant to comfort himself more as the idea of it scares him.
"I'm sorry Hobi-hyung, you're probably right, I'm just overreacting." Jimin's face softens.
"Would you guys feel better if we called her?" Jin proposed, and Hoseok and Jimin nodded in agreement.
Jin shifts his gaze to Yoongi, who is still clutching his phone, almost as if he's talking to him telepathically to make the call. But before Yoongi could place his finger on your contact, a loud knock echoed throughout the apartment, alerting all seven hybrids.
Their ears twitch at the sudden sound, and all three of them hurry out of the kitchen to the living room, where Namjoon, Jungkook, and Taehyung were still sitting, albeit with puzzled expressions.
"Is that Y/N at the door? Doesn't she usually have the keys?" Jungkook questions.
"Yeah, she does. Taehyung, could you open the door?" Namjoon responds, and Taehyung rises from the couch and walks up to the front door.
His nose twitches slightly as he picks up your faint scent, confirming that you're behind the door. He then grips the knob, with his boxy smile across his face, swinging the door open.
But the moment he sets his gaze on you, his smile fades almost instantly. It takes him a brief second, but he notices your bruised face and slouched posture against your male colleague. And, although he could detect your scent, he could also sense the overpowering scent of the man who was so so close to you. He tries to suppress the urge to growl in his throat, making a silent decision to scent you later on.
"Hey, Tae." You croaked, flashing a lopsided smile.
"Y/N..." He stutters at your appearance.
"May we come in?" Chin stares between you two.
Taehyung snaps out of his daze and walks aside. "Y-yes, of course."
Chin assists you in entering your apartment, as Taehyung watches you limping against the older man. A joyful voice greets you as soon as you come into view of the last six hybrids in the living room. "Y/N! I was beginning to worry that you—"
The cheerfulness vanished as soon as they laid eyes on you, causing him to frown along with the others; this doesn't go missed by you. "Hey, guys..."
"Y/N, what happened?" Jimin approaches you with worried eyes.
You beam him the smile that they all adore, unknowingly leaving a blooming feeling in all of their hearts. "Nothing wrong, Chimmy, I'm okay."
Chin rolls his eyes at your remark. "And by 'I'm okay,' she means a sprained ankle, fractured ribs, and a minor stab wound in the gut."
You whack Chin's shoulder as their eyes widen at the last words. "They didn't need to know that!"
You return your gaze to your seven roommates. "Ignore him, he's being dramatic."
"Sure I am." He suddenly releases you, causing you to stagger in your stance.
"Well, go on." He smiles, finally realizing what he's doing, which makes you scowl mentally.
You give them a nervous grin as they stare you down, waiting for you to move so they can see how serious your injuries are. You gulped and stood up straight without cupping your painful ribs, you took a tentative step, and as you put your weight down, your legs buckled and almost fell to the floor.
"Y/N!" Namjoon and Jungkook quickly sprang off the couch as they all exclaimed. Jin and Yoongi rushed forward as Jimin and Taehyung followed suit being the closest, extending their hands forward to catch you.
"You're not okay!" Jimin grips your right arm, while Taehyung does the same with the other.
"That's what I've been trying to say. And so did the doctor, you know, the medical professional whose life's work is to treat and diagnose all that is wrong with the human body." Chin snides obviously intended at you.
"Alright, I get it. But believe me when I say I'll be okay; all I need is a good night's sleep and I'll be back at work tomorrow."
"You're insane if you think you'll be able to go back to work like this." Jin scowls.
"But Jinnie..." You nearly whine.
"No, he's right Y/N. You're not going back to work tomorrow; instead, you're staying at home. Taking a week off, as instructed by the doctor." Chin cuts you off.
Your eyes widened. "A week?! But what about work?!"
He chuckles. "As for work, you'll be doing file reorganization. I'll drop over the materials tomorrow morning."
"You're going to make me do paperwork. Are you serious?" You stare at him in disbelief.
"Yes, I am. Steve's words, not mine. Which you will hear an earful from him, I should warn you." He responded.
You groan. "I know, I'm dreading it."
He puts up his hands in surrender. "You asked for it when you infiltrated enemy territory alone and severely outnumbered."
"WHAT?!" You winced at their reaction as they all shrieked out once again. "Chin, seriously, leave."
"Okay, okay I'm leaving. But you're staying at home, L/N, that's an order." Once Chin used your last name, the deal was sealed; there was no more room for debate.
You huff in defeat. "Yes, Lieutenant Kelly."
"Good." He next turns his attention to your seven housemates. "Make certain she doesn't do anything dumb and leaves the house."
Everyone curtly nods. "Don't worry, she's not going anywhere anytime soon."
"I'll take my leave then, see you tomorrow Y/N." As he leaves your apartment, you gave him a wave in return.
When the door closes, silence fills the air as you wait for the seven hybrids to speak. But, to your surprise, Jimin scoops you up and carries you bridal-style, making you squeal. "Jimin!"
"Taehyung prepare a bath for her. Make sure it's warm." Jimin orders the bear hybrid, who nods and walks ahead of the pair of you.
"Jimin, you don't need to carry me, put me down."
You pout. "Jiminnnn—"
"You heard Chin, Y/N- how could you say you're okay when you're seriously injured! You even have a stab wound!" He scolds you.
"Well- he said it's minor!"
"Doesn't make it any better." He scrutinizes you.
"Once you're finished with your bath, you have a lot of explaining to do, Missy." You heard Jin behind you two as Jimin enters your room.
You carefully exited your warm bath and drained the soap-filled water when you finished your bath. You notice the folded clean clothing on your sink counter and smile at how thoughtful the boys are about your well-being. You leave the bathroom and enter your room, where you are welcomed by Taehyung, who appeared to be waiting for you just outside your bathroom door.
"Taehy-" You squeak once again as Taehyung sweeps you up and carries you bridal-style, just as Jimin had done previously.
"You almost missed dinner." Taehyung says as he carries you out of your room and into the living room.
"If I'm supposed to have dinner, why are we heading to the living room?" You asked.
"So we can watch you and cuddle you." He responds, making you snort and smile.
"Oh, something amusing to you?" He arches his brow.
With a smirk still on your lips, you shook your head. "It's just the way you said, it was a little funny."
"I'm funny to you?"
"No, you're cute when you try to be mad at me." You stifle another chuckle.
He scoffs. "Glad you find it amusing." Well, you were right. Even if he tried, he could never be upset at you. After all, you were his mate, and even if you didn't even know it, his animal part and human counterpart won't allow any negative feelings about you to fester for long.
He eventually places you on the couch, between Jin and Yoongi, while the others gather on the floor, around the coffee and the seven plates of food.
"Now that you're here, you need to tell us what happened. But first, you need to eat; you almost missed dinner since you came home late." Jin demands, holding a plate and a fork.
You nod, and as you reach for a dish on the coffee table, your hand is swatted away, and you turn to look at the person who slapped your hand, Jin. "What?"
"I'm feeding you."
"Jinnie, I think I can feed myself. I'm injured but my arms and hands are still functional." You laugh.
"Your ribs are fractured, and you were stabbed. You should limit movement that can affect those areas." Jin said. "I know you hate feeling dependant, but please allow us to help you, Y/N."
Your eyes were drawn to his puppy-like eyes as he awaited your approval. You pause for a bit before sighing softly and nodding. "Okay, just for you guys."
He grins with his lips, displaying his adorable bread cheeks, which makes everyone else smile. He then picks up several pieces of your food and begins feeding them to you. "Now, explain Missy."
So you proceeded to tell how you received an anonymous message detailing Steve's location with the order to come alone. And, even though you knew it was most likely a trap, you weren't about to disregard what may be a lead to rescuing your boss. But you also weren't stupid, so you let Kono come along but remain hidden and strictly listened to your word. When you finally breached the location, you anticipated being surrounded, but you weren't prepared for the number of men that would face you.
Seriously, a dozen men for a lone girl? Do they really think you're that much of a threat? It was a precarious situation, but you had to admit that it stroked your ego a little to be regarded as so dangerous that you needed so many people against you. And from there, it was obvious how the story unfolded, which led to you being hurt to the point of unconsciousness and returning home late with the help of Chin.
When you finished telling the incident, the room became quiet for what seemed like hours as the seven of them processed the information until a raspy voice pierced the void. "Ya, are you crazy?"
You jerked your head, finding Yoongi staring at you, and you responded with a guilty smile. "Maybe?"
"Who are they anyway?" Asked Namjoon.
You sigh. "I don't know, that's what we've been trying to figure out the entire time but we got nothing. The only reasonable conclusion we have been able to come to so far is that they are the same people we dealt with in the Nakama and Sulgi case, which led us to Korea."
"But it wouldn't make sense for them to come all this way for that." You stated.
"What if they're the same ones that are looking for us?" Jungkook questions.
You shook your head. "No, I highly doubt that. If it were true, they would have come long ago. I don't think those people even know you've left the country."
You then notice the mix of doubtful and concerned expressions on their faces. "Hey- Hey, guys, it's okay. You guys are safe. They're not after you. It's me they want, I was the one who killed a lot of their men, anyway."
"They just want revenge."
"And that's exactly what we're worried about." Jin glanced at you with the same worried doe-eyes as Jimin had when you came in earlier.
"Oh, Jinnie, you don't have to be worried about me—" You attempt to reassure him.
"But that's the thing, we care about you, so much Y/N. We will be worried for you, I mean, just look at you!" Taehyung exasperates. "You can hardly walk, and it's obvious that you were nearly beaten to death!"
"But I wasn't! I'm not dead, I'm still here!" You yelled back, but the minute you realized you raised your voice at them, you felt regretful. You knew they only wanted you to be safe; being a cop and dealing with serious crimes on a regular basis isn't exactly the safest job. There will be occasions when you are confronted with the most gruesome scenes, pushed into life-threatening situations, or forced to make difficult decisions that will affect not only you but everyone else involved.
Despite Jin's protests, you rose from the couch and approached Taehyung. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."
"I know you were all terrified when you saw me walk through the door. But I promise you that I'm not leaving anytime soon." You tenderly cup his face, staring at him with the most sparkling, purest eyes he's ever seen, making it impossible for him to break away.
You both locked gazes until he drew you into him, and wrapped his arms around you. "You better not. I don't- I mean, we don't know what we would do without you."
You chuckle in his chest. "Don't say that, you guys will still have each other."
"But it will never be the same without you." Hoseok says, making you to release Taehyung from the hug which causes him to whine.
"Y/N, c-can we see?" Jimin sweetly asks, catching your attention, and you nod in reply.
"Come back to the couch, first. I don't want you standing for too long." Jin orders, and you giggle at his attitude. "Yes, Jinnie."
You return to the couch, but before you can sit down, you're dragged by your elbow into the lap of a certain snow leopard hybrid. You yelp, as you land on Yoongi's lap, eliciting a low growl from Jin. "Ya! Be careful with her, she's hurt, for god sake."
"You smell." Yoongi says flatly, making blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment.
"But I just had a bath." You muttered as Yoongi's cheek rubbed against your head.
"He's not talking about that. It just- you were... How should I put this...?" Taehyung struggles to explain.
"You reek of that man from earlier." Yoongi states, monotonously once again.
"O-oh... Does it make you feel better if you scented me?" You queried bewildered.
"Yes, but seems like Yoongi is already doing it." Jin answers while glaring at the snow leopard, who ignores him. "Is it alright with you?"
"Of course, whatever makes you guys feel better." You confirm, then you suddenly hear purring from behind you.
"Okay, that's enough—sorry, Yoongi goes a little too far at times." Jin apologized, and you shook your head. "No need to apologize; it's perfectly fine with me. You don't have to stop if you don't want to Yoongs."
"I actually like it, and the purring is relaxing." And with that, you've inadvertently caused another major spark in their hearts. Unbeknownst to you, they've mentally decided to scent you as much as possible now that they've been given the green light.
"So, can we..." Jungkook spoke out, drawing your focus away from Yoongi's actions. "O-oh, yeah. Just don't freak out, okay?"
"Well, we can try, but we can't guarantee anything." Jimin replies.
You mumbled an 'okay,' then began lifting the hems of your shirt, revealing your horribly bruised abdomen with a small size gauze pasted your epigastric area. You can see their breath hitch as it comes into full view for them, and you can feel Yoongi's grip on you tighten slightly.
"Jesus, Y/N... This is- this is bad." Namjoon whispers. "Is that where your stab wound is?"
You nod, and their frowns deepen even further. "That's too close to your artery."
"Well, their aiming sucks." You made a joke, but their lack of smiles caused you to pout. "Too soon?"
Jin leans forward. "Can I see it?" Without saying anything, you start to peel away the medical tape, slowly exposing the blood-red slender wound, the one that was far too close to your heart. Upon seeing it, you hear several low growls.
Then Jungkook advances toward you and takes your hands. "We'll find out who did this, Y/N, and they'll be sorry." They hurt you, and they hurt you real bad. If it had been an inch higher, it could have pierced your heart, and then what? You would have died.
And that thought infuriates them, enrages them even, but they try hard to conceal such emotions in front of you. Nobody ever hurts their mate and gets away with it. It hasn't been a long time, but you've become such an important person in their lives that they aren't going to let you go for a while.
"Thank you, Kook, unfortunately, we won't be catching them anytime soon, but I'll give you first dibs when we do." You give him a cheeky smile.
"From this night on, you will be resting. We'll take care of you for the next seven days." Namjoon asserts. "No ifs and buts, okay?"
You huff and cross your arms like a child, which they find endearing. "Okay."
I absolutely loved your latest tae fic!!! I would like to please request slight yandere jungkook with slight dd/lg please :)
pairing: yandere! jungkook x f! reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au ||
summary: just you and your high-school sweetheart.
word count: 5k
tags/ warnings: slight (i think it’s more than slight) ddlg, fluff, briefly mentioned death/ murder, smut in the forms of : unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), cumming in panties, masturbation, dom! jk, crybaby sub! reader, oral (m! receiving), grinding against a foot, dick riding, doggy, creampie, multiple orgasms, dildos, there’s a tentacle dildo mentioned too, squirting, cock slut reader, jks kinda mean as well in some parts and idk where it came from, dacryphilia
notes: ahh i’m glad you liked it! and here i present ~ yandere bf jungkook! i hope this is okay! i found this a lot harder than i thought i would so i hope this is what was wanted this is also like 30% plot and the rest just them fucking :’)
request rules can be found here || my masterlist
You’re unsure of when you and Jungkook had gotten together; the lines between romance and friendship always a little too blurry for you to differentiate between the two.
Even in the beginning it seemed neither of you could get enough of each other. Drawn to one another like two opposite ends of a magnet.
Jungkook however, knew the exact day, hell, the exact hour he first laid his eyes on you; of course he knew. He knew everything about you. He knew everything about you before you even knew he existed.
That might be a little dramatic but neither of you had ever spoken before, you shared a few classes and Jungkook doubts you’d ever looked in his direction, let alone gossip about him like a few of your classmates did about the boys in your grade. He doubted you even knew his name.
It was meant to be a meagre high-school crush. He was only meant to watch you from afar, maybe be frisky and become one of many secret admirers on valentine’s day; though he knows you never read the letters that piled up in your locker—and just wish for the day he worked up the courage to talk to you.
Fantasies only seemed to get him so far. Perfect for when his cock throbbed at the mere idea of being in the same room as you, with your skirt that would be so easy just to flip up as he fucked you from behind over the teacher’s desk; but he wanted the real thing.
He’ll admit, he wasn’t the best looking when the two of you first met. Not like now, his body permanently inked with his own art, a plethora of piercings that you frown about when he comes home with a new one. Nothing a sweet, soft kiss couldn’t fix from your doting boyfriend.
It’s not that you didn’t like them, you loved toying with the delicate earrings that would dangle, caress his neck in the way you like to; it was fact that many of them would have hurt.
You liked to deny it, waving Jungkook off when he would tease you about it, but you were a little bit of a crybaby.
Okay, maybe not a little.
But you’d always been like that.
Ever since the moment Jungkook had first found you.
You’d silently cry while reading, and he wonders if the story was really all that sad, or maybe your heart is too soft for the world. And that you just needed someone to hold you as you felt such big emotions. Nothing too overwhelming for someone as delicate as you.
Faking confidence was easier than Jungkook had initially expected. Something fabricated suddenly turning to reality the more he convinced himself that he was worth your love. That he’d worked hard for it and that no one else would ever be able to take care of you the way he knew he could. Knew he would.
He believed there was a special formula when it came to you. A set way in which you needed to be cared for and Jungkook happened to be the perfect person to carry that out.
Neither of you really had friends during high-school, both flitting from groups of people, hoping that maybe you’d fit in. Moulding yourselves around others interests and personalities; never truly yourselves when surrounded by others.
And maybe that’s why you were so perfect for each other.
It must have been fate, the day assigned seating was introduced into the history class. A spontaneous decision on your teachers part, and Jungkook’s final little push to start whatever the two of you now had.
You didn’t talk much, not that Jungkook minded. He knew you liked to listen, and so he filled the silence for the both of you. He learnt you liked writing and drawing with black ink rather than blue, and maybe that’s why so many of his tattoos lacked colour. Each delicate line reminding him of your time spent together as teenagers.
He knew he wanted tattoos the moment you’d started to draw on the palm of his hands during class. You’d always been a little fidgety, needing something to toy with, always fiddling.
And maybe that’s where this all started. A way for him to meander you in the direction he needed you. Pliant and Pretty. Moulding you into his perfect princess that would do nothing more than be subdued and malleable.
He learnt you liked soft things, your fingers running over the fabric of a sweater his mother had bought for his birthday, commenting on how you liked the texture. Pulling his arm to your face so you could rub the fabric against your cheek during lunch.
You didn’t question it when it suddenly appeared in your bedroom. Neatly folded on your desk the night after Jungkook had come round. Nor had you bothered to wash it and give it back. Liking the way it smelled like your best friend, a silent comfort for when you slept; like Jungkook was laying beside you.
And so he slowly started swapping out his wardrobe; pulling you around the mall so he could get your opinion on certain textures of fabrics. Over the years his style changed, but one thing always stayed the same; if you liked the texture, so did he.
Days of being friends slowly melted into months and years. The two of you attending different colleges and meeting new people.
That didn’t change much though.
Jungkook had gotten a job, working overtime in a shitty convenience store while you helped in a worn down family restaurant on weekends. You think maybe that was the hardest time for the both of you.
But no matter how many new people approached you or Jungkook. How many times men and women alike had stuttered out a confession to said male, you always found yourself back with him. Little red string of fate pulling the two of you back to one another each time you were apart.
By the time your last year of university rolled around, the two of you had saved up enough to move into a cruddy one bedroom apartment together, and maybe that’s when everything had felt right.
Even as you both worked, spent hours in class, you’d still come home to one another at the end of the day.
Jungkook would cook on a Saturday, boxing up lunches and dinners for the week so the two of you could spend as much time together as humanly possible. So evenings could be spent in the bedroom, huddled under blankets instead of hauled up in the dingy kitchen that was more a closet than anything else.
A few of his friends would asked him, if you were really worth the trouble. If your cunt was good enough, if the sex was that mind blowing that he marched around like a dog for you.
He would always brush them off, never telling them that he hadn’t gotten a taste of your sweet little pussy just yet. Because they didn’t need to know. The very thought of them imagining you naked was enough for him to clench his jaw tight, teeth grinding until it hurt.
And maybe that’s where something changed inside of Jungkook.
He hadn’t meant to kill them.
He was only meant to scare them enough they never let your name linger on the tips of their tongues, spat like venom when you were nothing more than sweet, smooth honey.
Hadn’t meant to be home late to you when he knew you wanted to watch a movie with him that evening. Excited because the old woman that you worked for had given you a cake in thanks for all your help around the shop.
It had been one snide comment too far and Jungkook felt something inside of him snap.
And so he snapped the fucker’s neck, burning his body before anyone could notice he’d gone missing.
Jungkook didn’t feel bad about what he did, relived that your name could no longer be uttered by such filth.
A similar fate had followed to the countless others that started to confess to you. Motives too vulgar for someone as precious as you.
This wasn’t high school anymore and one quick social media check was enough for Jungkook to know that all these men wanted was your body.
Jungkook wasn’t like that.
You’d cried one night, wondering why your new group of friends slowly dwindled to nothing but yourself. And Jungkook had been there as your tears soaked into his shirt.
You hadn’t understood why all of them moved away without telling you. Why they all suddenly seemed to leave half way through the semester.
You’d asked Jungkook if there was something wrong with you.
He’d cradled you so gently that night, whispered promises that you were beyond perfect and maybe those so-called friends of yours were the real problem.
“You’ll stay with me forever, right” you’d rubbed your cheek against the bare skin of Jungkook’s chest.
“Of course, baby” he smooths a hand through your hair, “Just you and me forever”
You liked that Jungkook always seemed to know what you were feeling, and you didn’t even have to tell him.
You liked that Jungkook never judged you, even when those around you would give you weary looks.
It had started with clothes.
How nothing you wore seemed to bring you much joy anymore. Dull shirts that your parents would buy for birthdays and christmases, the obligation to kind of like them because your family had spent their hard earned money on the tatty looking fabric.
You remember crying.
A little temper tantrum one evening when you were sick of it all.
Maybe it was just a bad week.
Hell, it had been a bad few weeks.
Jungkook was working overtime, you were behind on assignments and you just wanted to be held by your best friend.
You hadn’t heard when Jungkook had slipped into the apartment, socked feet nothing more than a dull thump on the wooden floor as he wandered into back bedroom.
You’d looked up at him in nothing more than your underwear and Jungkook had cooed, bending down in-front of you as he cradled your head to his chest.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he soothes, pulling you to straddle his thighs.
You hiccup, Jungkook taking a peek at all your clothes scattered across the bedroom floor.
“I don’t feel good in any of it” you snivel, a fresh wave of pearly little tears coating your cheeks.
“You can wear my stuff if you don’t like the texture, baby”
“Not the problem” you slump against him further, “wanna feel cute”
“You are cute” he smiles, pulling your head from his chest from the back of your neck. And he can only compare you to a delicate little kitten.
“How about we buy you some new clothes? I’ve got some cash left over from last month” he smiles down at you, pressing a feather light kiss to your temple.
You blink up at Jungkook, lips parting when he slips his thumb inside of your mouth. Instinctively, you begin to suck before nodding your head.
“Thank you, kookie” you muffle, Jungkook’s dick twitching in his sweats as your tongue runs over the pad of his thumb.
“Isn’t it weird?” you asked him as he threw a pleated skirt into the basket, finger running over his bottom lip as he riffles through another rack of clothes.
“What’s weird?” he doesn’t turn to you, but he can hear the frown in your voice.
He throws a glance over his shoulder when you don’t say anything.
“Answer me, doll”
You fidget, fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.
“Aren’t these things too…” you trail off, eyes flirting to the array of pastel clothes Jungkook had helped you pick out—all soft and ever so girly, you didn’t feel pretty or dainty enough to wear any of them—“childish?” you whisper, but Jungkook hears.
“It’s not weird if you like them, baby” he chuckles, flinging an arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the back of the store.
“You’ve been a good girl today, how about a treat” he nudges you towards the shelves of little stuffed toys.
You turn back to him, brows furrowing, but all he does is give you an encouraging nod.
He remembers the way you’d stumbled a little outside the toy store on one trip to the mall; looking for new furniture for your new apartment.
Your eyes wide with wonder at the display case, every animal you could imagine waiting to be stuffed and loved.
“Do you want one?” he’d asked.
You looked like a deer caught in headlights.
He’d frowned when you’d shaken your head.
“No, i’m fine. Thank you, kookie” you’d smiled. But Jungkook hadn’t bought your unease little smile. He knew you were still shy about what you wanted, always drawn to the softer things in life, and he was slowly weaving you into his perfect little girl.
So, he’d skipped back to the mall a week later, your new little friend sat carefully in a bag, with a new wardrobe for you to dress him up in.
He remembers the way your eyes had lit up. The biggest smile he’d ever seen pulling at your cheeks until they hurt.
“Do you like it, baby?” he’d bent down to your level, brushing your hair away from your forehead. You’d nodded so fast he was worried you’d give yourself whiplash.
You’d looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. Frog held close to your chest for the rest of the afternoon, your hands running over its fluffy tummy as you stood by him while he cooked dinner. Because he didn’t like you cooking.
‘It’s too dangerous for small things like you, baby’
“Kook” you’d tugged on the back of his sweater.
“What’s wrong, doll?” he turned the stove down, his full attention on you.
“What do frogs eat?”
“I’m not sure” he hums, finger tapping at his chin, “probably like bugs or something. Why?”
You fidget, rocking on your heels under your boyfriends gaze.
“Wanted froggie to eat dinner with us tonight” you whisper, and Jungkook had almost missed it.
“ahh” he nods, tugging you into his chest, “better go get him then, dinner’s almost done”
Even now, as the two of you live together. Share a home. Your little frog remains at the head of the bed.
Some nights Jungkook will slither into the room late, having been busy somewhere downstairs on his laptop as you settle to bed. And he’ll find your little hand wrapped around the foot of your frog. One of his little webbed toes had matted fur, your poor frog a victim of your habit of chewing something during your sleep.
The day the two of you had sex, was when the pits of hell had opened for Jungkook.
He couldn’t get enough of you.
Both of you were unsure the first time. Both each other’s firsts for everything and it took months to figure out the dynamic the two of you had.
It had started where most teens do, dry humping one another until you work up the courage to get naked and actually do the deed.
“Feels so good” Jungkook throws his head back as you grind over his cock, thighs tensing each time the tip nudges your clit, rough fabric of your panties only enhancing the pleasure.
“Gonna cum” you whimper, hips continuing to roll against Jungkook’s shaft. Your thighs starting to cramp with how long the two of you had been going at it.
“Come for me” he murmurs as he pulls you down for a kiss, drinking down your moans as your thighs begin to shake, electrical pleasure wracking through your body as you topple over the edge. Cum dribbling into your panties.
You’d flopped against Jungkook, chest heaving in unsteady breaths. Your heartbeats in tandem with one another as you ride out your high.
You squeaked when Jungkook flips you onto the bed, body caged beneath him as his hands start to tug at his cock.
He pushes your panties to the side, head falling onto your chest as his cum coats your slick covered folds. Your thighs twitch closed at the sensation, mouth falling open into a breathy moan when Jungkook pulls your panties back into place and pats your covered cunt, spearing his cum a little more.
Jungkook learnt that he loved to watch you cry. Something about your blotchy face with tear tracked cheeks making his cock throb. And as much as he wanted to bend you over and shove himself balls deep inside you, the wait always seemed worth it when you’d end up sobbing for him to fill you up.
And so he started making you beg for his cock.
“I can’t help if I don’t know what you want, baby” he hums, foot coming to push at your clothed pussy.
You hike your skirt up around your waist, hips rolling forward as Jungkook toes at your clit. A jolt of pleasure causing another wad of slick to stain your panties.
A pitiful whine spills from your lips, “please, kookie”
He hums, barely acknowledging you as tears start to weigh down on your waterline. A guttural moan rumbling from Jungkook’s chest as saline tears spill down your cheeks like precious little waterfalls.
“Stupid girls like you don’t deserve cock, that’s all you can think about right? How good it would feel if daddy fucks you?” he bends down to meet your eyes, pulling you forward from underneath your arms, situating you over his foot.
You look up at him expectantly as he leans back on the sofa.
“What?” he drawls, “Get yourself off then”
Jungkook can’t help but palm himself over his jeans as you start to grind against his foot, cooing as you hiccup, hips stuttering as you find just the right angle.
“Good girl” he groans, your mouth falling open in a moan, you lean against his thigh. Nose inches away from his throbbing erection.
Your fingers fiddle with the zipper of his jeans, Jungkook helping you as he pulls his flushed cock from his boxers. He slaps the tip against your lips, lazy smile tugging at his cheeks as your tongue lolls out of your mouth, clear bead of pre-cum coating the surface.
You snivel as Jungkook teases, only inching the head of his cock past your lips before pulling back. Groaning as you let a wad of spit slick up the head of his cock.
“Please, want your cock” you continue to grind against his foot, no longer worried about coming yourself; focus set on Jungkook’s girthy length that’s inches from being inside of you.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, bringing a hand to brush your hair from your forehead, “How bad?”
You blink up at him through your lashes, not missing the way his throat bobs in impatience.
Jungkook liked to tease you but his self control had never been the best. And as much as liked to tease, he would give you anything you asked for.
You moan when he feeds his length into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as your hips stutter.
You didn’t have a gag reflex, years of Jungkook using your mouth as his own personal fleshlight slowly morphing your mouth into a perfect little hole to fuck as he pleases.
However, today he had other plans.
“Up” he pulls your head off his cock, silencing you with a kiss to your forehead when you start to whine.
“Daddy wants to cum inside your little pussy, baby” he pulls you up into his lap from under your arms.
He helps you pull your panties off, skirt pulled up so he could take a look at your soaked folds, red and puffy from grinding against him.
Your thigh highs pull taught as you slowly sink down on his length, his hand holding his cock in place as you test the waters.
Your breath hitches as the tip pushes your folds apart, a dribble of slick coating his cock as you rock your hips forwards.
The head of his cock nudges your clit and you hands fly to hold onto Jungkook’s shoulders for support as he guides his length back towards your hole.
The head of his cock pops into the tight ring of muscle, your mouth falling open at the stretch. Jungkook watches as a breathy whine tumbles from your lips as you slowly bounce on the mere inch he has tucked inside of you.
Be pulls your shirt up over your head, tugging your bra down so your tits spill over the edge as you start to inch down.
He leans forward, mean as he tugs one of your nipples with his teeth before lathering them up with spit.
Decidedly, you drop down until your ass meets his thighs, and Jungkook holds you close to his chest as you gently start to grind your hips.
He hears you sniffle, cock twitching against your velvet walls as you bounce a little.
“Why you crying, huh?” he chuckles
“Feels so good” you whisper, mouthing at the bare skin of his neck.
Goosebumps prickle down Jungkook’s spine as he feels your warm breath fan his skin.
He slowly grows impatient, hands firm on your hips as he uses the floor as leverage, hips jackhammering into your soaked cunt.
You cling onto your boyfriend, staccato of breathy “ah ah ahs” melting with the wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook thrusts up into you.
You clit rubs up against his abdomen, your thighs starting to shake as he continues his pace, his grunts being followed by the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass.
“Together, yeah?” he grunts, fingers digging into your hips, mesmerized by the way your tits bounced.
“mmhmm” is all you manage before your cunt starts to clench around his length, his thrusts a little less sharp as he starts to tip over the edge.
He leans forward, lips closing around your nipple, and that’s all it takes to push you over your peak. Your thighs shake as Jungkook languidly rolls his hips up into your, cock jolting before you feel him flood your cunt with his cum.
Your hips stutter at the feeling, fingers threading into the short hairs at the back of his head as you feel him fill you up.
“My good girl” he soothes, keeping his now softening cock inside of you to keep his seed plugged up.
“Like feeling full” you sigh, and Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe your wet cheeks.
“I love you” he smiles, his hand tangling in your hair, tugging it so you’d face him.
Jungkook presses a firm kiss to your lips, tongue licking at the seam.
Lately Jungkook had been worried.
You’d been on your phone a lot recently, the screen always turned away from him when he was in the room. Never leaving it lying around the house like you usually would.
And that worried Jungkook.
You didn’t have any friends beside him, he made sure of that. He knew everyone that was in your life, and he knew everyone that would face him if they made one wrong move.
What if you were talking to other people?
He couldn’t have that.
He couldn’t have them corrupting your precious little mind.
And so, he does the only logical thing; a little snooping through your phone.
Guilt doesn’t cross his mind as he flicks through your phone.
The only chats open were your mother and him. The only contacts you had were your family and him.
He tilts his head in confusion.
Nothing seemed out of place.
He’d checked your phone months ago and nothing seemed any different, so he couldn’t understand why you’d been so skittish about him know what you were looking at.
He swipes up, ready to close all the apps he’d opened when he finds it.
His eyes widen at the screen.
“What’s this?” you shake a brown box, a week later and Jungkook peers out of the kitchen to see what you’re talking about.
“Ah, doll. Come in here and open that” he motions for you to sit at the table.
You do as told, pulling a chair out from the dining room table and placing the box in between you and Jungkook.
He pushes the box forward. Urging you to open it.
He grabs you a pair of safety scissors, fussing over you as you try and open the box before he evidently does it himself.
You can see Jungkook’s thigh bouncing in the corner of your eyes and you look up to meet his gaze that was already on your face.
“Is it a christmas present?” you ask, voice soft. And Jungkook shakes his head.
“Nope. I have 2 surprises, this one will keep you busy until we can use the second one”
Your eyebrows furrow, beyond confused about what he was talking about.
You peel away both flaps of the brown box, fingers gentle as you pull the little strips of tissue paper from what lays beneath.
You jaw falls open, eyes wide when you get a first glimpse at what Jungkook had bought you.
“Why—“ your cheeks flush a dark shade of pink, matching the hoodie Jungkook had bought you.
“I got a dick piercing” he smiles.
“Huh” you head snaps up to meet his eyes.
“We can’t have sex for 8 weeks while it heals” he explains, watching you frown, “So i got you a little present”
Your fingers skim over the ridges in the dildo. You wouldn’t have been surprised, you and Jungkook already had one upstairs somewhere in the closet; what was surprising was the shape.
“How’d you know?” you whisper, entrances by the shimmer the silicone held.
“That you like tentacles?” he asks and you hum.
“You left a tab open on your phone” he admits and you nod.
“You weren’t meant to see that” you bite your lip and Jungkook pushes himself from where he’s sat.
He leans down, thumb running along line of your jaw as he brings your lips to his own.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about with me, baby” he murmurs, fresh smelling coffee tickling your nose.
And it’s only then, what he’d just told you sinks in and your eyes glaze over with tears, “That would have hurt a lot, why would you do that” you sniff, Jungkook kissing your tears from your cheek.
It hadn’t been hard to convince you to quit your job.
The big wide world a little too overwhelming for you, that all it took were a few gentle words from Jungkook and now all you did was stay at home.
He earned enough for the both of you, enough to spoil you when he felt like it.
So it wasn’t uncommon for him to come home to you, bouncing on a silicone cock as you watched something on the tv or color at the table with something plugging up your needy pussy.
You held your little frog to your chest, thighs straining as your bouncing morphs into your hips rocking forwards.
“Couldn’t wait until I got home?” Jungkook flops down on the couch beside you.
You meet his gaze, “Felt too empty” you whisper and Jungkook smiles over at you.
“Poor thing” he croons, running a hand through your hair, “Bend over, love”
You do so, palm of your hand keeping the dildo buried in your cunt as you bend over and show Jungkook.
His tongue wets his bottom lip, fingers grasping the base of the fake cock before he pull it out half way, only to shove it back into you.
You jolt forward, lewd moan dripping off your tongue like honey as he continues to thrust the cock into you.
“Not enough” you whine, hips canting backwards to meet his thrusts.
“No? What do you want, sweetheart?”
“Your cock” you turn to look over your shoulder, meeting Jungkook’s gaze.
You watch his eyes glaze over with lust, uncaring of your whine when he tugs the fake cock out of you.
You smile when you hear him shuffle behind you, hands splayed across your hips as he lines himself up with you cunt.
You rock backwards, a silent plead for him to hurry up.
He feels your walls clench around him as he slowly pushes him, kings crown piercing dragging through you walls as he pulls back before snapping his hips forwards.
You moan, slick dribbling around Jungkook’s length as he pulls out only to slam back into you.
“Look at you, creaming all over my cock” his hand swats over the plush skin of your ass, a broken whine his response as you feel your asscheeks flare red.
“So good for me” his head tips back as he continues the pace of his hips, the backs of your thighs flushing pink as his skin comes in harsh contact with your own.
You slowly start to feel your peak forming, crashing so hard over the edge you feel a rush of wetness push Jungkook’s cock out of your core, hole clenching around nothing.
Jungkook lines himself back up, fingers trailing down the front of your body to flick at your clit, tight circles sending jolts of delicious pleasure through your body as Jungkook picks up his pace.
He ignores your cries of overstimulation, a mean chuckle rumbling through his chest as he pulls your hips towards him, his own starting to stutter as he nears his end.
“Come for me again” he groans, continuing his onslaught on your clit.
Your thighs tremble, and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s tight hold on your hips you would have collapsed.
You feel his cock twitch, your boyfriend pushing his cock as far inside of you as he can before he’s coming, the rhythmic clenching of your pussy enough to milk him dry.
Your second orgasm of the night isn’t a big as the first, watery arousal leaking down Jungkook’s cock, murky with his own white release.
“Keep it inside, please” you cry when he goes to pull his soft cock from your messy hole.
He takes a hold of the dildo, shoving it back up your tight pussy before he’s pulling you over his lap, hands skimming down your sides as you turn your attention back to the documentary you were watching.
Your hands stroking him to full hardness again. And he knows it’s going to be a long night, with you a little fussy as you squirm in his lap. Intent of your cunt being stuffed to the brim with his cum.
“So good for me, my perfect little princess”
Buyers Beware: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: AU where whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s too. Except when all seven members of BTS happen to be your soulmate… well, that presents a small challenge. Legally speaking.
Tags: Soulmate AU, fluff, comedy, possessiveness, polyamory, fluff, domestic bliss, slow burn, chaotic bts, chaotically whipped bts, moderately paced self-indulgent brainrot
🔞 House of Serpents: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: Straight-A student by day, Kim Namjoon’s personal toy by night, you didn’t live a terrible life. At least not until you met his six equally depraved “friends.”
Tags: Mafia AU, PWP with some plot, shameless smut, sugar daddy, possessive behavior, power imbalance, dub con, oral, overstimulation, moral bankruptcy, 5-way betrayal, yandere jimin, yandere jungkook, morally ambiguous characters
No Relation to Morals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: You are a genius, a billionaire, a morally flexible business magnate And by absolutely no fault of your own, also roommates with a demon. A few demon(s).
Tags: Demon AU, Soulmate AU, eventual smut, fluff, domestic bliss, polyamory, slow burn (demonically), overprotective BTS, chaotically whipped BTS, demonically petty BTS
Bang & Burn: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: After a few unfortunate run-ins with your bike, elite espionage agency BTS decides to flag you as "capture or kill". Or fuck. Or marry. (Terms and conditions will probably apply.)
Tags: Spy/assassins AU, slow burn, eventual smut, annoying namjoon into apoplexy, chaotically armed BTS, intense pettiness, friends to enemies to lovers, morally ambiguous character, chaotically whipped bts, polyamory
Day in the Life: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Pairing: Hyung line x reader
Summary: You have seven kids. Four husbands and three toddlers. So yeah, seven kids.
Tags: family AU, domestic fluff, EXTREME domestic bliss, seokjin is in a constant state of stress and overwhelming fondness, polyamory, protectiveness, established relationship, crack, slow burn
🔞 Combative [Assassins AU, Jungkook]: Fuck Jungkook or die. That’s it. That’s the story. #sex pollen #fuck or die #enemies to enemies
🔞 Captive [Corporate AU, Namjoon]: You’ve got your shit together. Smart, sharp, god complex. And then Managing Director Kim Namjoon decides to take you down a couple pegs. #namjoon has a humongous dick #AU where namjoon has a driver’s license. → discussion
🔞 Entrapment [College AU, Jungkook]: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed, but that doesn’t preclude him from having plenty to teach you. #strangers to enemies #jungkook has a horse cock
🔞 Perverse [Soulmate AU, Namjoon]: You can hear Billboard Singer Kim Namjoon's thoughts. This is something of a problem. Especially as most of them are about your ass. #overstimulation #edging #orgasm control #literally
🔞 Tightrope [Mafia AU, Rap line]: You run logistics for three of Korea's biggest crime lords. Sometimes, this translates into the three of them domming the absolute shit out of you. #is rapline trying to kill you or woo you #read to find out #brat taming
🔞 Obliged [Royalty AU, Maknae line]: Three emperors are in need of a prince. Sadly, you're the last woman alive. #breeding kink #maknae line plays 4D chess
🔞 Possess [Magic AU, Seokjin]: As a prank, upperclassman Kim Seokjin tries to spike your drink with an aphrodisiac. To retaliate, you spike his with a truth serum. Tired of all the squabbling, Professor Min switches your drinks. #enemies to lovers #just kidding it’s enemies to enemies #sex pollen
🔞 Entanglement [ABO, OT7]: Don't go into the forest, they said. Don't feed the wolves, they said. Definitely not during mating season, they said. (OT7) #stuck in the wall #gang bang #marathon sex #obviously #somnophilia
🔞 Wicked [Pornstar AU, Jungkook]: You think you can best the greediest fuckboy in the game? No, amateur. You can’t. #lovers to enemies #jungkook has a big dick #jungkook is a big dick
Hexed [Guardian Angel AU, Jimin]: As punishment for excessive tardiness, you’re sent to earth to babysit some singer or another. No one thought to mention said singer is the devil incarnate. #jimin is an ass #but sassy #demonically so #sex pollen
🔞 Duplicitous [Daechwita AU, Yoongi]: You must fuck two Yoongis to stay alive. One of them is an emperor. The other one is a jackass. #mean yoongi #yandere yoongi #sloppy seconds #competitive overstimulation #bondage
Entitled [Billionaire AU, Taehyung, Jimin]: Some shit-eating idiot stole your parking spot. As it happens, the shit-eating idiot happens to be the two wealthiest men in Korea. #competitive proposing #enemies to lovers #this is actually just fluff
✨✨ Half-baked Trash:
Professor Kim Namjoon
Puppy hybrid Jungkook
note: if fic is not linked, it has not been posted yet
Hi! Could you write yandere bts (all members) with fear kink, con noncon, group sex and knife play..
You can write anything that comes to mind, thankss, Ps. I love your work!
😳 thank you ily!!! this was challenging but...
pairing: ot7 x reader
genre: roommates!au, friends to lovers
warnings: oof everything mentioned above and more!!! con noncon, fear kink, knife play, rough sex, degradation, possessiveness, mentions of corruption, manhandling, dirty talk, outdoor sex, oral sex, creampie, this is basically a gangbang ahshdhdh sorry? 🤷♀️
You were such a pretty, little thing. Falling asleep on the way home was your first mistake. You startled when Yoongi rubbed your shoulder, lifting your head off of his chest.
"Finally," you sighed - then paused.
All eyes were on you, and for some reason no one made a move to get out of the car. You realized why when you took in the scenery outside the window. You weren't parked in front of your house; you were in the middle of the woods. The thick silence in the air made your heart start pounding wildly, your stomach twisting with unease.
"What's going on?"
It was Jin who reached over to open the door for you, a gentlemanly gesture that did not match his commanding tone.
You wanted to ask if this was some kind of a joke, but your throat suddenly felt too tight to let any sound pass through.
"You better listen to him, baby," Hoseok murmured.
Blinking, you turned to Jimin for help, hoping to find some answers to your questions. All he did was smile at you. It made your knees feel weak.
Upon realizing you had no other choice, you stepped out of the car, dry leafs crunching under your foot. The air was cool, the darkness of the night seemingly endless and thick with tall, old trees. For the minute you stood there on your own, rubbing your arms, in a way you felt safe; and then they stepped out of the car as well, making sure to lock it and hide away the keys. Suddenly you were surrounded, nothing more than prey that was about to be devoured.
There was a small part of you, naive perhaps, that tried to make sense of the situation in the most rational way possible. You looked at Jimin, once again searching his angelic face for answers. But the only one you got was so devilish it made your heart jump to your throat.
"What's wrong?" He asked, taking a step forward to place his lips right next to your ear. "Thought you wanted some excitement. Can't handle it?"
"What?" You finally managed to find your voice, though it came out hoarse.
Jimin laughed quietly. Your stomach turned upside down, sparks of heat spreading through it. You could feel it paint your cheeks pink as he whispered into your ear again, touching your elbow.
"You came all over me so hard last night. Care to remember why?"
He pulled away then. One look at you and he knew you remembered.
You didn't answer him, but the split second your gaze flickered to Yoongi was enough to betray your thoughts. Jimin's cat eyes caught on to that little movement immediately, amusement lighting up his face.
"Oh, that's right."
He turned to the elder.
"She wanted you to-"
"Stop it!" You hissed, grabbing his jacket to pull him aside.
A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, dragging you away from Jimin and locking you in place tightly. You turned your head, finding Namjoon narrowing his eyes at you.
You couldn't calm down. Your heart was on the verge of bursting out of your chest, nerves mingling with this strange heat that kept on bubbling in your stomach. Especially since now, everything made sense to you. Struggling was useless; because Jimin already told them everything. He tsked at you, like he was disappointed, deliberately keeping his eyes on yours when he spoke up.
"What's wrong?" He asked again. "You wanted to be passed around, didn't you, baby? Changed your mind?"
There was no way to turn back now. You refused to break eye contact with him, unable to face the reactions his words might have gotten from the others.
"Go fuck yourself," you spat.
A low whistle sounded through the night, and the mocking laughter that followed caused goosebumps to break over your spine.
"Cute," Yoongi commented. "Let her go, Joon."
To your surprise, Namjoon did as he was asked and released you from his hold. You stared at Yoongi, your eyes widening when he reached into the pocket of his coat and produced a fine, silver knife from it. Its sharp edges gleamed in the faint moonlight. You could feel your stomach drop all the way to the ground below you.
He analyzed your reaction carefully, his eyes so piercing they seemed to be able to read you like an open book.
"Go ahead and run, sweetheart. I'll give you a headstart. How about it?"
Your blood ran cold. The last thing you wanted was to take the bait; but in the moment, knowing no other way out, that was exactly what you did.
That was your second mistake.
You broke into a sprint, diving in between the trees, your feet pounding against the cool earth. You couldn't see where you were going, or if Yoongi was already behind you; you were too scared to look back. The adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to breathe, but it helped you keep going. You ignored the branches that pulled at your hair and scratched at you, shoving them out of your way.
Your wanted to find shelter somewhere in the wide arms of the forest, not giving a damn about getting lost. However, any hopes for that were crushed when you were abruptly pulled back by your arm, the strength in Yoongi's hands knocking you straight into his chest. He tackled you, pain shooting up your spine when you hit the ground. He caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head, his eyebrows raised. While you could barely catch your breath, he only seemed excited, his eyes shining as he stared down at you. Like a predator that lived for the thrill of the chase.
His weight on your body felt too intimate. His free hand lifted to your face, the knife in it making you freeze under him.
"Now," he sighed, "let's get one thing out of the way. And I'd advise you to stay still, baby."
The warning was loud and clear. Still, the last thing you expected was for him to drop the knife and reach under your skirt, his fingers brushing against your clothed core. Your thighs clenched on instinct. He looked up at you sharply, but instead of scolding you, he just furrowed his brows.
"Fucking hell," he breathed. "You're so wet."
The weight of his words was mortifying to bear, but you knew he was right. And you weren't quite sure how to cope with it. Your breath was coming out in unsteady shudders, your throat feeling dry.
"Oh baby," he muttered. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this. I can't believe Jimin got to fuck this pretty pussy first."
You whimpered, all the fight seeming to leave your body. Yoongi picked up his knife and pressed its sharp tip into your throat. It felt so cold against your skin. You tried to calm your breathing, your spine tingling all over.
"Let's get back to the others, hm? I'm not the only one who's been waiting."
Your knees felt like cotton when he lifted himself off you and pulled you up, the implications of his confession doing nothing but ruining your underwear further.
It wasn't long before you were back to the same spot you tried to escape from, your back leaning against Hoseok's chest as you sat on the cold ground.
He kept your legs spread wide open and your arms locked in an unforgiving grip. Yoongi's knife was running up and down your soft thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties, but now its handle was in Taehyung's skilled hands.
"Look at you," he cooed. "Trembling like a leaf. Are you scared?"
You lowered your gaze, feeling your own slick running down your thighs.
The knife was suddenly beneath your chin, forcing your head up.
"I asked you a question."
"Don't bother," Jungkook cut in. "She just needs a little motivation."
He crouched down on the ground next to you, his boots crushing the leaves that were lying there.
"Isn't that right, honey?" He asked, tilting your chin towards him.
You swallowed harshly, remaining silent.
He stared into your eyes for a moment. Then his jaw tensed, his grip on your chin tightening.
"How about this," he offered, "you start talking, or I'll put that pretty, little mouth to better use right now."
A muffled whimper broke through your lips. You turned your head away, but you could still feel Hoseok's chest shake against you as he laughed.
"How is that supposed to motivate her? She's probably dying for it."
"No," you protested.
It was the first thing you managed to utter since Yoongi dragged you back here. Jungkook smirked, ignoring the scoff that came from Jin, who stood leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.
"I know my pretty girl so well," he purred.
You felt too weak to fight back anymore, your clit pulsing viciously, needy for attention. You couldn't tell why you could feel the heat of your own tears stain your cheeks; from the aching need to be touched, the humiliation of it, or the fear crawling through your chest. It was a twisted potion they got you drunk on, and they seemed to enjoy every second of it.
"Is she crying?" Namjoon leaned in, tilting his head. "She is."
"Poor baby," Hoseok muttered into your hair. But his actions said otherwise, his palms pressing into your thighs to spread them further apart for everyone's viewing pleasure.
Your vision was blurred when Taehyung turned your head back towards him, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
"No need for that, baby," he said. "Just be a good girl and stay still, and I won't hurt you. Okay?"
You nodded. It wasn't a verbal answer, but his eyes lit up nonetheless, the knife making its way back in between your legs.
This time, ever so gently, you could feel the cold tip slip beneath your underwear.
As though expecting your reaction, Hoseok's hands tightened on your thighs, holding them in place. It was a good thing, because with the way you flinched the sharp edge could have cut straight through your skin.
"Stay fucking still," Taehyung snapped. "This will only take a second."
Your chest tightened. Like a deer caught in headlights, you watched him slice through the ruined material, cold air hitting your drenched folds as he left you exposed.
You weren't sure who groaned. Their voices were starting to mingle together, your mind growing foggy with the intensity of the emotions rushing through you.
"She's so fucking-"
"Focus," Taehyung demanded.
You didn't know how to. Frustration got the best of him, and without warning he grabbed your shirt, ripping straight through it.
"You know," he gritted, running the knife through your bra roughly to slice it open as well, "I was going to be nice and take things slow, but if you need cock to think straight, I'll help you with that."
"Fucking finally," Yoongi exhaled.
Too much. It was all too much.
The sound of a belt unbuckling made your head snap up to Jin. He grinned at you as he fumbled with the expensive leather.
"Oh, now you can focus?" Taehyung sneered. He was next to start unbuckling his belt, standing up to tower over you. His fingers trembled with desire as he pulled his jeans down, grabbing the back of your head and forcing you to kneel.
It was only then that Hoseok released you from his grip. You pussy clenched so violently you couldn't help but shudder. You only had a second to take in the sight of Taehyung's cock, stiff, big and glistening with precum, before he pinched your nose, hard. Your mouth parted in a surprised daze.
"Gonna give you what you want, slut," he mumbled.
He pushed all the way inside, the sudden intrusion making your throat constrict. You coughed around him, attempting to push his thighs away from you, but he held you in place firmly, his head thrown back in ecstasy. The deep, filthy groan that left him made your cunt gush more, as did his forceful thrusts. True to his word, he didn't bother easing you into it, stuffing your mouth full and hitting the back of your throat.
"Holy shit," you thought you could hear someone gasp. Namjoon? "Don't fucking kill her, man." The concern would have been comforting; only it wasn't concern at all. "I don't want her passing out. I want her looking at me when I fuck her."
You whined so loudly someone swore, and Taehyung would have laughed at you if he could manage to do so between the moans that were flowing out of him. Your mouth felt so much better than he ever imagined. You gagged around his cock, unable to react when you felt somebody kneel behind you, their hands wrapping firmly around your breasts.
"Having a good time?" Jimin breathed into your ear, twisting your nipples softly. Your lungs were on fire, but you were tingling all over, desperate to finally be touched.
Taehyung's hips came to halt. With a grunt, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, leaving a string of saliva running down your chin. You collapsed forward and leaned your weight on your hands, greedily gulping in air. He was panting just as hard as you, if not more.
You barely caught your breath before Yoongi was pushing you onto your back, covering you with his body.
"Not gonna run again, are you?" He murmured, hot breath washing over your lips. "My knife is still here, little girl."
You were beginning to feel lightheaded, trembling beneath him, your heart thumping frantically against your ribs, like a frightened rabbit stuck in a cage.
You were so pretty. Even prettier with your pupils blown wide, fear and desire creating an addicting universe inside your eyes, all theirs to get lost in. Because if you thought you still belonged to yourself, you were wrong.
"You've barely been touched," Yoongi tsked, "but you're dripping like a dirty whore."
You hated how his words made your stomach clench.
The feeling of his hot, swollen cock dragging through your folds only added to the high, finally providing you with some long needed stimulation.
"Bet I could just," he mumbled, pushing the thick head against your entrance, "slide right in."
And as if to prove his point, he did, driving his cock into the heat of cunt in one thrust, until he bottomed out. You moaned, your stomach tightening, so deliciously full you could have cried again.
Yoongi hissed through his teeth, keeping still, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.
Jungkook knelt down beside you, stroking your hair.
"How does she feel?"
Yoongi grunted, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to use so many words. Perfect. Warm. Divine. But all that came out was a strangled, "Tight."
The view of the night sky became obscured by more faces looking down at you, shifting closer. Faces you knew so well but now saw in a different light for the first time since you met. And it seemed like the signs were always there, but you missed every single one; which landed you right here. Trapped in the middle of nowhere and being devoured at last.
Yoongi made sure to drag his cock along your walls slowly as he pulled out, until the tip was back at the entrance of your soaked pussy.
"Oh my god," Hoseok gritted. "Hurry the fuck up."
You didn't notice it before, but beads of sweat graced his flawless skin, his fingers wrapped around his cock as he watched what was about to happen.
You moaned so loudly Yoongi slapped his hand over your mouth, thrusting back inside you harshly. Your own hand was lifted off the ground, your wide eyes locking on Namjoon's. You weren't able to turn your head all the way, but you certainly felt the warmth and the grith of his length, even if you couldn't see it. His mouth parted as he helped you grip it. Your thighs started to shake, pleasure exploding deep in your abdomen, all the way to your already ruined cunt.
"Let her scream," Jin hissed, pulling Yoongi's hand away from your mouth.
He only grunted. He didn't care what was happening around him now that he was buried deep inside you.
With his hand gone from your mouth, you cried out freely, your eyes prickling with tears. You were going to come, and there was no way of stopping it from happening. You didn't want to stop it, either.
"Shit, let me- give me-" Jungkook stuttered, unzipping his jeans. "Give me a fucking minute."
You could barely keep up. He turned your head, pressing your cheek into the ground.
"She can scream all she wants later, just-shit- just let me-" he struggled, pushing his cock in your face. "Let me fuck her mouth."
He muffled your whines, his cock sliding in between your lips real quick, though unlike Taehyung, he made sure to stop just before he hit your throat.
"Ah, yeah," he breathed out. He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was afraid that looking at you now would make him blow his load right away.
"Oh shit," Yoongi groaned. He could feel your little pussy trying to milk him dry, tightening. "Are you gonna come, you fucking slut?"
"Of course she's gonna come. Let her."
"Yeah, I think she earned it. She's in for a long night."
You weren't sure who said that. Your muscles locked, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Black spots danced in your vision, Yoongi's thrusts growing sloppy. He fucked you through it, his own orgasm following right after, making him moan obscenely. His cum was so warm when it rushed into you, the feeling dirtier than you could put into words, but exactly what you needed.
Such a pretty, little thing; so easy to pick apart. You were too high up in the clouds to notice that Yoongi had slipped out of you. Jin replaced him in between your thighs, eyes stuck on the cum flowing out of your twitching hole.
"My turn, baby," he sighed, slapping the head of his cock over your sensitive clit.
"Wait," Jimin groaned. "Sit up. I wanna see her."
And like the good friend he was, Jin listened, knees pressed into the ground as he pulled your ass back towards his leaking cock.
"Gonna fill you up real good," he promised. "Gonna fill you up so good you won't wanna leave the house ever again."
That's been the plan all along. Jimin's little confession of your secret desires only sped things along. It was most pitiful that you didn't seem to understand that at the beginning; you have always been theirs.
You could feel Hoseok shifting closer to your face, next in line to use your mouth, his cheeks flushed from excitement.
"Say ah, baby."
He sighed contentedly when you did, parting your swollen lips for him obediently. His smile was so sweet for a moment you saw a flicker of the Hobi you thought you knew. But then his hips pushed forward, and your jaw ached as you were filled again, tasting precum on your tongue. You were so far gone; you were so perfect. The wait has been worth it, as they knew it would be. Hoseok gritted his teeth, tangling his hand in your hair.
"What a good girl," Jin praised, still in his awe.
Their good girl. They loved you too much to ever let you go.
red room | masterlist
— warnings should have not been ignored but turning a blind eye might be the only key to saving your dwindling modelling career.
pairing: ot7 x f!reader
genre: model au, photography au, smut
warnings: dark themes, exploitation, blackmailing, manipulation, dubious consent
note: more warnings will be specified in each part and the plot may change along the way.
× lenses | photographer!jungkook — one
❝ another angle sweetheart ❞
× property | manager!namjoon — two
❝ we’ll take care of you ❞
× layout | editor!seokjin — three
❝ do it again ❞
× design | stylist!jimin — four
❝ i’ll always dress you perfectly ❞
× setup | technician!yoongi — five
❝ the lighting needs to be adjusted ❞
× image | model!taehyung — six
❝ our chemistry is unmatched ❞
× duty | assistant!hoseok — seven
❝ everything is ready ❞
© jadedjjk 2022. All rights reserved. | cr: @mahoneysuga
Unorthodox | Masterlist
Pairings: Fem!Reader x OT7, Taehyung x Jimin (and more)
Rating/genre: M (18+); smut 💖, fluff, light angst; Idol!AU, Reader-is-really-lucky!AU
Summary: You meet BTS on vacation and everything is awesome! (read author’s note please)
Warnings: Will put in each chapter. Minors please dni.
***(General warning for the fact that this is a very self-insert work for me. As I am fair-skinned, small/average height, and have long hair, there may be things that reference these descriptors in this series, though I’ve tried to remove anything too overt.)
PARTS (💖 = smut)
Something Like Happiness (3.7k)
The Noise Complaint (2.9k)
Ask Nicely (2.9k)
Playing With Fire (4.5k)
Never Have I (6.1k)
Not Anybody’s (5.4k)
Angel Baby (4.5k) 💖
A Good Apology (6.7k) 💖
You Found Me, You Knew Me (7.1k)
Greedy (6.7k) 💖
Reciprocity (6.9k) 💖
Whatever You Want (8.6k) 💖
The Boss (5.3k) 💖
Hot and Cold (5.9k)
Don’t Overthink (6.4k)
Mood Board #1 - Something Like Happiness
Mood Board #2 - Angel Baby
Mood Board #3 - Reciprocity
Setting Recreation: BTS Villa
Answered Asks Tag
AUTHOR’S NOTE - please read :)
This series is a long (ongoing) work of wish fulfillment and escapism that I never originally planned on sharing. It is not “good writing” per say; it doesn’t have a plot/story arc. It’s more slice-of-life. There’s only some light angst, so if angst is what you’re into, you probably won’t love this lol. It’s mostly fluff and smut.
Reader is involved eventually with all seven members. The focus is mostly on Taehyung, Jungkook, Hobi and Yoongi (slow burn here tho lol). A decent amount on Jimin. Some on Namjoon. And not a lot on Jin (and it’s not for a while). So, if you are Jin-biased or even Joon, you might not find this satisfying. If one of your biases is any of the other 5 then you’ll probably enjoy this.
It becomes a poly/ENM situation. There will be smut with multiple partners/group sex. There will eventually be Male x Male smut as well as possibly other Reader x Idol relationships/smut, like SVT, SKZ, ATZ, and maybe others. Reader is pansexual so could be Reader x Female!Idol too.
Oct. 23rd fic doc word count: 150,000 words + 53,000 words of extras that I have taken out and will slowly add back in as I continue writing. Of course, some will be cut but, yeah, there’s lots to come!
Chapter 17 💖
Chapter 18 💖
Chapter 19 💖
Chapter 21 💖
Chapter 22 💖
Chapter 24 💖
**It goes without saying that this is a work of fiction and is for entertainment purposes only.**
To be loved. (5)
⇢ pairing: bts x chubby!reader
⇢ alpha!Namjoon, alpha!Jimin, alpha!Taehyung, beta!Jin, beta!Hoseok, omega!Yoongi, omega!Jungkook.
⇢ genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut
⇢ word count: 9.4k
⇢ warnings: harmful thoughts towards body and self, ed habits, arguments (but not really?), I believe that's it!
⇢ summary: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7, is that too much for a person? Should that number make you think so terribly? It shouldn't but it does. Someone else sees the numbers and thinks thoroughly and even tries to help in his own way. When he does all you can think is how can someone's hate feel like this? When has hate felt like a hug?
chapters: prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
Chapter five! To the anon who asked when she gets a home cooked meal here you go. ^^ It was a roller coaster but in the end the MC enjoyed her meal with someone. I like this chapter because It feels like someone is trying but in their own way, which is so important! rather than helping in a textbook kind of way yk? but as always I hope you enjoy it! reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated! <3
You sleep well that night. The night air feels cool with a hint of warmth, as if you left out your coffee just a bit too long but not long enough at all. You hear someone knocking on the door and you can't find it in you to answer. So you try your best to make a sound loud enough that whoever is behind the door can hear it. Apparently they do because you hear the door open and feel someone standing there. You don’t want to open your eyes knowing the sunlight would cause them to water more than the early mornings already do, but you can tell they're waiting for you to.
You open your eyes and see Taehyung looking at you, his long shaggy hair glowing under the sunlight. Pretty browns and bits of auburn threaded into each strand. “Morning y/n.” he says in a low voice. You sit up on the bed and look to the side so he can't see your face. Jaebeom would tell you omegas must always appear pretty and so when you wake up an alpha expects to see you freshened up and put together. “So don't show me your morning face. Clean well before you appear in front of me.”
“G..good morning.” you say feeling the nervousness of his judgment crawling up your spine. He hasn't said anything to you but alphas only want to see pretty omegas even if they aren't theirs. Jaebeom said omegas must be pretty to look at, if not then they're pointless. Taehyung doesn't know why you seem so nervous right now, is it because it's him and not Jimin? He noticed you're quite fond of Jin as well, the beta is quite comforting to those around him. He doesn't want to make you uneasy.
“I'm sorry if I disturbed you or made you uncomfortable. I just wanted to let you know that it's just you and me here and I made some coffee.” he apologies for something unknown to both of you. “No, you didn't make me uncomfortable. It's just that… I look a bit unpleasant in the morning. I wouldn't want to scare you or anything.” you try to joke about it lightly though the joke eases the tension of the words it still tastes bitter on your tongue.
Makes you feel as if you are something scary to look at, as if you're a scarecrow in a field. Lonely with no one to call it pretty. Maybe you are? Maybe you aren't supposed to be praised when you're not something praise worthy. Taehyung goes quiet and it makes you feel uneasy. He's just standing there not saying anything. He could have at least pretended to laugh at your stupid joke, it would be better than this silence.
“No one is unpleasant in the morning, we all are just a bit listless and undoubtedly bare which is normal. Our hair sticks up and things that can be frazzled but it’s not unpleasant. Also you're not scary to look at, the joke was what was scary.” he replies with a joke of his own. You smile a bit at that, the words sticking to you.
You turn to him and look down, fear still managing to cling to your skin. “If you would like to freshen up though, I'll leave you to it, okay?” you nod and go to get up. The black pajama pants being a bit long on you almost making you fall. You make yelp noise and Taehyung runs about to help just in case you fall but you manage to stand straight. You giggle nervously and mutter an apology which Taehyung reassures you that you're fine.
Just as you're about to walk into the bathroom, Taehyung says something that catches your attention. “I'll be in the library if you need me.” right as he says the word your eyes light up. He sees them shine at the thoughts of books and a place filled with them. You nod a bit chirpy, just the mention of a library making you want to hop just a little bit.
Taehyung walks away to the library and you decide to freshen up. You grab the pastel blue toothbrush Hoseok got you and begin. You rinse off your face the cold water waking you up a bit more than you already were. You walk into the kitchen and smell the coffee that sits hot in the pot. You want to make some but are unsure of what mug to use. What if there are certain mugs only they can use? What if they don't want you using their dishes?
You see a plain black mug that looks a bit old, it's chipped in certain spots. Making it seem used but since it's in the back also forgotten. You choose that one and pour you a cup. You love coffee and always have but didn't get to indulge much with your fiancé. When you used to go to Starbucks and cute cafes with Jimin when you guys were younger you loved a good iced frappuccino.
So as you look at the mug that holds coffee that holds no sugar it makes you miss the sweetness that the old days used to hold. The black coffee is bitter no matter how much you have had to get used to it. Each sip is as if hand sanitizer is made into a dark liquid. You hate the taste, the emptiness to it but you tolerate it. You sit in a spot at the dining table while the sun shines through the sheer white curtains brightly. The light casting the kitchen in a white glow.
The house is quiet, not even the presence of Taehyung would be known if he hadn't told you he was here. You draw little patterns onto the table as you think about how to get a job. When should you start looking, now perhaps? But you have no device to look up jobs. You pout at that, the realization that you can't repay them back if you don't even know what’s hiring. Then again you haven't done a job application in years, how much have they changed?
You hear footsteps getting closer and see Taehyung walk into the kitchen sporting glasses this time. The frames sit nicely against his bridge as if they were made precisely just for him. You watch as he pours himself another cup into his mug. A cute brown mug with a little baby yoda on it. You almost want to coo at how such a mysterious alpha is drinking out a little baby yoda mug. He sees you smiling to yourself as you watch him. “What?” he asks as he takes a seat across from you.
You giggle harder at being caught. “Nothing, it's just I didn't expect you to have a baby yoda mug.” you smile pointing at the little green guy. Taehyung looks down and looks back to you with a serious expression. “Baby Yoda is the coolest guy ever, don't laugh at him.” you frown a bit because his tone isn't holding any lightness to it.
“I didn't-” he chuckles quietly and that makes you stop your sentence. “I'm kidding y/n, I mean not about baby yoda being cool. He is cool.” he says, examining his mug, tapping one of baby yoda's ears. “Yeah he is pretty cool and cute!” you say the frown immediately leaving your lips. You say it as if everyone needs to know baby yoda is infact a cool but cute (don't forget cute) little green guy. Taehyung shakes his head and you give him a bit of an eye smile as you take a sip of coffee. You both sit in silence as you sip at your mugs. The silence isn't unpleasant if anything it's nice. Nice to know for once that you're being silent out of choice and not force.
“Do you like books?” taehyung asks. He sees light in your eyes again and he doesnt think it's from the sun. you nod enthusiastically. “What kind of books do you like?” he replies. “Hmm I'd have to say fantasy is my favorite.” you reply and he gestures for you to continue. You don't want to possibly bore him with your lame book stuff but he is looking at you with such a soft smile that you find yourself continuing.
“I like fantasy books for a lot of reasons. Mostly because it takes you away from the place you are in. it's full of things that aren't true to you, true to your life. You get to indulge in a little place full of things you'd never get to see and experience. You never know what's coming next but it's exhilarating. And-” you stop yourself from the next sentence not wanting to sound stop sappy.
“Go on.'' Taehyung encourages. You clear your throat “And um you know when you feel stuck in such a world that only causes you pain, to be transcended into a world that can comfort you and make you forget that it is so lovely. Even when fiction has pain it's written so beautifully that it's as if your heart is breaking and mending all in one.” you finish as you play with your hands. Nervous you may have sounded simple minded. “Sorry if i sounded stupid.” you apologize just in case he gets angry at your words, feels as if you're trying to act smarter than him.
You know alphas don't like when omegas try to appear more intelligent. Jaebeom would sa- “you didn't sound stupid. Your words were true and you felt them. Your words were beautifully said.” You sit there staring at him, your mouth a bit open as if he said something slightly bizarre.
“You'll catch flies y/n.'' he says with a light laugh. “Sorry it's just, nevermind it's quite silly.” you say turning to look back at your empty mug. You think Taehyung's done with coffee as well if the way the cup has a bit of an echo when put down has any say. “Tell me, nothing is quite silly in this house as we would be considered silly people. So hit me.” you play with your fingers, rubbing the thick skin of your knuckle.
“It's just…I was so shocked. I've never been complimented on the things I say. I usually get shot down, ignored, or perhaps worse.” you laugh trying to ease the heaviness that word implies but could words ever ease the heaviness of the hands that hurt you. The worse to you indicates something that couldn't be eased, Worse beatings, worse nights, worse pain.
“So I don't know, you just shocked me a bit by calling something I said beautiful. That word is usually only associated with others.” you say looking up to him slowly, eyes holding many emotions. “Thank you for that.” you smile softly. It's Taehyung's turn to be silent because he knows. He's always known and it eats at him everyday.
So to see you're here explaining just a bit of what he assumed, of what he saw not only saddens him but makes him feel the guilt. The guilt of those footsteps that he walked out that door that day, the guilt of his eyesight seeing something but simply turning away. He knows and he knew.
“Who’s your favorite author?” The change of subject doesn't startle you at all nor anger you. Gladly feeling the weight of the conversation shifting. Flying high off its feet to something you both can smile about. “Kim Tae.” you say a bit loudly and it makes you immediately apologize but Taehyung reassures you you're fine. To scream all you want until your lungs ache, burn from the words you haven't been able to scream.
He's pretty poetic you think, the way he speaks as if he sees the world as a book to write, a story to tell. He laughs at your answer and you tilt your head confused. “What?” you question, a bit offended at his laughter. You love Kim Tae and will ride or die for the anonymous author. His words do wonders for you.
“Nothing nothing, may I ask why you like them?” you nod the subject making you excited. “Warning, I'm going to sound like a nerd.” you say to him with a giggle. “Nerd away, nerd.” you playfully glare resulting in him laughing at you. The warmth in this kitchen is doing wonders for the coldness that sticks to your skin. That never leaves you, reminds you that the warmth is never a luxury you get to bundle in but now?
Now you feel that warmth just a tad, that you don't ever want to leave this feeling. Though your coffee cup is empty, the taste of coffee is still heavy on your tongue. Taehyung's scent is spiked with an emotion you want to believe is happiness, like you.
“I love kim tae not just as an author but what i know about them as a person. The fact they stay anonymous is something I find beautiful if I'm honest because it gives them privacy free from judgment. Whether they’re a woman, man, both, or neither! The only thing about their identity is that they’re an alpha. It makes me happy because can you imagine how alpha pups will feel knowing that even if some of society says they can't indulge in such things that there is an amazing author who does just that?” you say so much passion in your voice. As if the thought makes you soar with happiness, soar with comfort that they will be comforted by such a thing.
“Also them being an alpha kinda gives my fiancé a slap in the face that alphas can in fact read but they can also write!” you say annoyance clear in your voice at the man you're speaking of. Taehyung is feeling almost shy because these words you say are never said to him. Never being this thoroughly explained to him. So he's hiding in his hands and you stop yourself from continuing, scared you, annoyed or bored him. “Sorry if I'm boring you I'll stop.” he peeks at you through his hands “n..no um please continue.” you're confused at his reaction, “you sure?” he does respond verbally but the nod of his head gives you confirmation.
“I also like the way they put little notes at the beginning and end of their story as if to have a little convo with you before you start, an introduction if you will. Then at the end as if to close the story by closing the conversation. Sometimes it's words about the story but my favorite is when it's words of comfort!” you say kicking your feet with excitement. Just talking about books and authors with someone after not having anyone to talk about it with for years is pumping serotonin in you.
“Comfort?” he questions, voice being a bit muffled from the way his head is still in his hands. “Yep, hmm I would say it was like my body was a cage. I was locked in something that I couldn't escape. it's silly but it was as if Kim Tae freed me in a way?” you say and Taehyung takes his head out his hands to look at you.
“When I read their stories I felt so free, entranced you know? While my fiancé was gone I was able to fly into a world full of poetry, fantasy, or little stories about silly things. Kim Tae saved me. I would say, if it wasn't for them I would have gone insane and probably not as human as I am today.” you say a sad laugh escaping you unwillingly. You realize that laughing must be a border your body is putting up to not cry.
Taehyung is just staring at you, an expression you can't read well. On the contrary Taehyung almost feels as if he could cry. Your words somehow comforting him, motivating him. Kim Tae is amazing but he knows the author gets discouraged, gets to a point where they feel as if writing is useless. Now though he believes if your words, your emotions of their work is told to him that Kim Tae will go on.
Kim Tae's stories will continue to give you as much comfort as they can. Kim Tae wants to continue and after today he believes a part of Kim Tae is going to continue just for you. Though he feels himself frown at the mention of your fiance. Taehyung has known of you since long ago, not personally but in a way that when he saw you he could never forget you. Forget when your hat fell, when your arm was grabbed. Taheyung has known of you and thought of you for days. Guilt will always eat at him but the guilt may simmer just a bit with the knowledge that Kim Tae helped you. Kim Tae was there.
You and taehyung sit in silence for a while, that is until you hear chatter getting closer. You hear what you believe to be Jimin's laughter and smell Yoongi's vanilla scent. They walk in the kitchen and their eyes widen in surprise at seeing you and taehyung there. “Taehyung’s out of the library at this time of day? Its going to fucking snow.'' Yoongi teases. Taheyung grunts at the omega all while a smile is etched onto his face. Jimin sits beside you as he grabs the bags full of snacks. You glance but immediately look away. Snacks are a no no. Too much carbs and possible trans fat.
“How’s your morning going peach?” he says, still looking through the bags, the alpha being pretty concentrated on sorting them out. “It’s been really good.” you reply softly. “Yeah? Taehyung good company?” he asks, finally looking at you. “Yeah but I have to say baby yoda was a bit better at that.” you giggle and Taehyung shakes his head at your child like humor. He doesn't understand how it's making you still giggle but all he knows is he finds himself laughing along.
Yoongi sits down beside Taehyung having poured himself a cup of coffee as well. “Baby yoda?” Yoongi questions. Taehyung just waves him off and you smile to Yoongi. The joke being quite unfunny even to you but managing to make laughter bubble in the pit of your stomach. The feeling foreign and noise is even more. As if your laughter was locked away as much as your happiness was. The sound never having got to bounce off walls or fill up rooms like those you could only dream of being. You want to ask Yoongi a question but you're apprehensive. What if he finds you meddling?
“Yoongi um..” you stop yourself as he glances at you. Eyes devoid of emotion but not in a rude way. In a way that's expecting you to question him or make a statement so he can decide on a reaction he wants to give you. “May I ask where you work, like your occupation. I only ask because you always smell so sweet and it made me curious. sorry if I'm overstepping!” you say immediately. Not wanting to appear rude or nosy.
He stares at you and wonders why such a simple question makes that amount of fear make way into your voice. “I work at a bakery.” he answers simply, no further examples of what he does. “Are you the baker?” you ask bouncing with excitement he doesn't know why you feel but that might be because he's the baker in question. “Yeah, I baked the things along with a girl. We bake different things, but sometimes the same things. We work for an elderly couple.” he explains this time.
“Oh, like a mom and pop shop?” you ask curiosity filling you more. “Yeah.” you smile brightly “that’s so cool, you always smell of a lovely vanilla so when you come home smelling so sweet and like a million different pastries, i just wondered why” you say with a giggle and Jimin laughs at your words. You look at him head tilting but Jimin saw the shock on Yoongi's face at your wording of “lovely vanilla.” Your words cause the omega to almost feel shy of his strong scent.
“What?” you say. Jimin looks up to see you pouting to him. He just giggles as he pinches your cheek. “Nothing peach, you're just as sweet as usual.” you don't know why his words cause a bundle of butterflies to fly around in your stomach and blood to rush to your face. You cough and change the subject. “So if you don't mind me asking, what do you all do?” Yoongi thinks and begins to tell you. You learn that Jimin works at a small record shop that also has a cute section with old books to go along with the old records that collect dust but are aesthetic in display.
Jin is a doctor which you had known from the night he explained that he was. Yoongi tells you a bit about his bakery as he counts himself in the description. Namjoon is a psychologist and you frown at the name. Feeling as though you haven't seen the alpha in a while. (it literally has been maybe two days but that's how impactful pack alpha joonie is.) Hoseok is a daycare teacher which you lighten up at. Hoseok would work well with the little pups. Teaching them things the world is too scared to teach.
Like love is kind, being nice is better than being cruel, and to be who you want to be no matter what. “What does Taehyung do?” you question as you notice he skips over Taehyung. Taehyung looks at you, flashing you a smile with a shrug. You squint at him with suspicion and Yoongi chuckles at your action. “Oh and Jungkook-” “Jungkook what?” you hear the omega walk in the room. The brown sugar scent fills up the room instantly. His scent is always so strong even when he's angry. It fills your lungs until they drip with syrup.
“And that menace that just interrupted me is a tattoo artist.” Yoongi looks up and playfully glares at Jungkook. Jungkook sticks out his tongue as he sits near you but not close. You know he'd never sit next to you willingly. He probably didn't even register that you were here. “A menace proudly by the way.” Yoongi shakes his head, finding Jungkook endearing. You glance at Jungkook a few times trying to build up the courage to ask him more about his job. Jimin sees you playing with the skin on your knuckles as you glance at Jungkook.
He feels that you won’t ask what you want to without a push. So push is what he will do. “y/n do you want to ask Jungkook something?” you look at Jimin eyes wide at his question. He just smiles and motions for you to say what you wanted to. Your face is immediately hot at being put on the spot and caught in your staring. You glance to see Jungkook staring at you, not glaring but definitely not kindly. As if he doesn't care what you have to ask but will listen despite such.
“Um i just wanted to ask what all do you do?” you ask quietly. “I tattoo people with ink.” he states, looking away from you and you shrink into yourself at his answer. You knew you shouldn't have asked him. He isn’t fond of you so why would he tell you things about himself? You're nothing but a stranger but you hoped you could learn about such an interesting occupation. He sees Yoongi glaring at him and he looks to see you looking down. Once curiosity now cut short from the sharpness of his answer.
“I see what people want and turn into something in my style. Then I tattoo them with their desired colors and style.” you look up at him. The first time he addresses you with a sense of normality. No anger or words that are sharp. You tilt your head though. “So you turn into your style but tattoo them their desired style? What does that mean?” you ask. Jungkook stares at you, almost wanting to not reply but somehow your curiosity is a bit welcomed.
“I turn the whole tattoo artwork into my style but what I mean by their style is the lining. Like if they want the thing i styled to be more line work then color or if they want more shading. It's a bit difficult to understand. You wouldn't get it.” He says going to look at the snacks Jimin got. Jimin smacks his hand and Jungkook looks at him with a pout. “What? I answered.” he says, acting as if the baby smack hurt him. Jimin rolls his eyes at the dramaticness of his mate.
“y/n would know a lot more about that than any of us would besides you by the way.'' Jungkook looks to you a bit curious at what Jimin is implying. “Were you a tattoo artist or some shit?” he asks. Finally managing to grab a bag of hot chips. You shake your head. “y/n draws. She even used to draw for our one friends back in school that did do tattoos. Her art was pretty well liked by other people.” Jimin says going to grab himself a snack. Taehyung raises his eyebrows at that. “You draw y/n?” you shake your head. “I used to but I haven't since-” you stop yourself from oversharing. “Since a while.” you say summing it up into something short.
Jimin frowns at that because has it been since that night? “Jungkook, do you draw tattoos?” you ask, trying to shift the conversation from you. He nods while he munches on his chips, he looks in the bag trying to pick the most seasoned ones. It's a cute habit he must have. “y/n do you think you can still draw?” you hear Yoongi ask you. “Probably not so that's why I consider myself not able to.” you reply with a nervous giggle. “That's Not true peach with how good you were? That's not something you lose.” Jimin says, patting your shoulder and you smile at his reassurance.
Jungkook watches the interaction and bites his tongue. Like physically bites it so he doesn't say anything to make the room become dark and moody. He doesn't want to be the storm that crashes into the sun and turns its color to something gray. “I ask because would you like to draw again?” Yoongi diverts your attention back to him. You think about it. You would love to draw again after not having been able to create for years. Being able to draw cute things or even dark things that paint themselves in your mind would be nice.
To take a pencil to a blank paper and let your heart express in colors what your mind draws in lines. “I think I would like to one day. It would be nice to express myself through art again.” you answer. Yoongi nods and goes to pour his now cold coffee in the sink.
“Peach here.” Jimin says handing you a bag of spicy honey chips. You see it's a brand you used to love. The chips are always crispy just enough that the crunch is satisfying to the teeth. Now though? You couldn't even imagine what that would do to your body. What it would add up to in numbers. You stare at it and look to see Jimin waiting expectantly. “Do..do you have anything lighter?'' Jimin's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?” you don't want to say it bluntly.
Don't want to expose such a thing, that only people that have calories they can spare can eat things like that. You can't say that, have attention being turned to why you can't. To have attention turned to your body and your face. Let them finally see what you are, who you are, Someone unsightly and someone unworthy. “Like um…” you see Jimin frowning at you. You don't know what to say, but should you just tell him that- “there's banana chips.'' Taehyung states grabbing the bag and handing them to you.
You look at him and almost want to thank him for saving you from words. From the expression of your pain that would do no good for the warmth that is surrounding the room. You grab the bag and thank him and Jimin. They go back to talking and you open the bag as silently as you can not wanting to cause any disruptions. Nobody likes a loud omega so you've been told. You look at the nutrition label and see the serving size as well as other important factors.
You eat a few slowly as you read it. You count in your head and your hands how many you're eating and make sure you don't go over the serving size. If you do, you're not very good at math to tell how many calories it would be if you went over. You do this all while being oblivious to the eyes that watch you.
Jungkook watches as you read the label. Your fingers holding a number 5 under the table as if you're counting how many chips you are eating. You read the label and must have read the serving size as you close the bag after the 7th chip. Not eating more than that, once you're done closing the bag your fingers soon go back to normal. No hint of counting on them and it makes Jungkook wonder why you asked for something lighter.
Jimin gave you those chips as if he knew it was something you liked, taste can change of course but has yours? Has your taste had the chance to change? Now that he thinks you've been here for about 6 days now and he hasn't seen you eat a meal. You may have had a bite of a burger, might have had tea and coffee but have you eaten?
You place the bag of banana chips back with the other snacks and sit to yourself quietly. Your eyes, eyeing the bag of chips Jimin offered you as if you want them. You look away from them though with a shake of your head. What are you thinking? Is it harmful? Jungkook doesn't care for you, does not necessarily like you. So why is he considered for your well being as if he does?
You get out of the shower with a bit of a bounce in your step. The day has been so cozy, from the way Taehyung shared coffee with you, to the talk of their occupations that enticed you, all the way to the shower you just took with the coconut scented shampoo. All of it makes you feel so soft as you snuggle under the fleece blanket. Through all of this though there's an itch you can't scratch, the itch of something so familiar. Every time it comes it stays, no matter if you try to ignore it.
The itch can't be scratched because it's sewn into your brain. The stitches are so threaded that scissors couldn't even cut it. The itch of eating. You ate and more particular you snacked. You snacked on something that you would never have gotten to any other day. Should you feel sad over this, determine your worth over this. 7 chips?
No you shouldn't but what the brain is taught it will keep. What the heart has learned is how it will beat. So how could you ever be okay again and be able to be normal and eat? It's a dream, a sad one. One you wish to achieve but do you really? Or does that sick part of you wish to keep feeling the pain in your stomach from hunger. To keep checking if your collar bones stick out more today. You have never got to weigh yourself and know it.
Your fiancé would just tell you that you never lost a pound, which resulted in you never having got to nest but always getting to feel that thought of ‘maybe tomorrow.” But will that desired tomorrow ever come? You wish it would then maybe you would be free from the monster that haunts you. From the thoughts that weigh you down just as much as the number that defines you. Sick dreams, sick mind, sick you.
You hear the sound of the others laughing. Sharing food around and they spread love around even more. Love, what is love? You've never felt it, never got to be in the palm of its hand. The only person you've loved with all of your being is currently being loved himself. The love he once shared with you is now shared with 6. 6 people who are better than you, prettier than you, smarter than you. 6 people who can love him in a way you could never. That gives him a love that's painless, unlimited in its range.
No matter the color of the day his blue will shine to them and his blue is no longer for you. Love is tricky, love is painful but you think you'd rather die from the tree branches that impale you from the overflowing love of another. That's a way you'd want to go, the pain stabbing into your heart yet making it beat all the same.
As I paint the walls with the secret tears I shed that also paint the skin of my cheeks with red. Symbolizing the blood that's in me but has nothing keeping it pumping. No adrenaline, no happiness, nothing exhilarating. So love, what are you? What do you feel like? All my life I've only had one question, what is it like to be loved? Love if you could talk would you answer me? Then again I'm being silly by thinking such a thing. Though love if you can hear me, one second, one minute or even one day. Please, let me be loved.
That morning you don't wake up to a knock at the door or the sound of rough morning giggles. You wake up to silence, maybe you're the only one here? Last night you wore a simple long sleeve, baby blue ruffle pajama set. You enter the bathroom as per usual. You look in the mirror to see your puffy eyes and crazy hair. Wetting your hands, you glide them down your hair to get rid of the baby frizzes that stand tall as if to say ‘you can't get rid of me.’ Luckily cold water manages to pin them down. You try to apply cold water under your puffy eyes to get rid of the evidence of the tears you silently let fall last night.
You walk out into the kitchen to make yourself a glass of water. As you walk in to see eyes staring at you. you lock eyes with him, his scent being light this morning. You look away and go to get the chipped black mug that you used yesterday. You choose it again because no one commented, no one objected to you using it. As you fill up the mug with some cold water you feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head.
You don't dare to speak first, knowing you would anger him more than your presence itself already must be doing. “Why the fuck are you using that mug?” he questions. His voice being groggy and deep from the morning air. An indication that he too has just awoken not too long ago. You still at his words, you knew you should have asked someone first.
You turn to him with apologetic eyes. “Sorry I..I just this mug was in the back so I thought no one used it and-” Jungkook gets up and walks to the cup cabinet. You stop talking as you watch him, afraid he's coming to hit you. You close your eyes, not wanting to see the action happening before you feel it but it never comes.
“Wasn't saying you couldn't use it. I asked because it's old as hell and chipped. There's a reason it was in the back. favorite color?” he asks and you open your eyes. Staring at him surprised. He looks down to you and is waiting for your answer. “Oh uh it's blue! Yeah blue.” he hums. Looking back to the mugs he looks and picks one. Though you see him hesitate on this one. Despite that though, he rinses it and hands it to you. “Would you like some coffee?” he asks. You look to the pot and see there's none made.
“No, it's fine.” you answer. “Good because I didn't feel like making any and I don't like coffee much. So Hot choco?” you're surprised he is talking to you like this. Asking you things, offering drinks, it's weird but a good weird. “Sure!” you lighten up at the mention before it dawns on you. Hot chocolate equals sugar and you don't know how much. “Actually um, I'll take tea.” you say before he can begin making you some.
Jungkook looks at you and stares for a minute. “I'm making you some.” he states, grabbing the hot chocolate packs. “No, I'd rather not drink any, I appreciate it though.” you try to tell him a bit panicked at him insisting on this. “Why don't you want it? It's good so just drink it.” he groans. “But..” you halt your sentence. “But?” he says as he stirs the milk in the pot.
Jungkook’s not stupid he knows you’re freaking out about the hot chocolate because you can’t see the label. You don’t know what's in it but that's not a way to live. To live in a box that you can get out of because you're only allowed to fit in that box. You should be able to grow out of it, grow into a garden full of flowers that blossom into colors you've never seen. Petals that are so new that when it hits your tongue you feel delighted, not guilty.
You never answer him though. “Yeah, so sit and I'll make you a cup.” you find yourself letting out a frustrated huff. Walking away to sit at the table across from where Jungkook sat. your back to him as he makes the drinks quietly. He soon places the pretty blue mug in front of you. He sits across from you. He sips on his while he watches you stare into your mug. As if the chocolate beverage will jump at you. “Drink up.” Jungkook waits for you to follow what he said.
It takes you a while but you grab the mug and bring it to your lips. You take a deep breath and drink it slowly. The hot drink goes down smoothly. The chocolate sweetness fills your taste buds till they overflow. Fills your tummy till you feel warm all over. Then there's the bitterness of the chocolate. You find yourself enjoying the drink even wishing it had marshmallows to add a fluffy cuteness. You don't drink it all in one sip so you put the mug down. The heat of it makes it impossible to gulp down.
“By the way it's just you and me here. It's going to be like that probably all day, until about 7pm. Just wanted to let you know that your precious Jimin won't be back till then.” he says to you. The bitterness in his tone sucking the sweetness that just entered you out. “I don't get why Jimin not being here is a problem for me?” you admit honestly. “Oh bullshit, you guys are weird with each other. So I just assumed you like… I don't know, ugh!” Jungkook tries to explain but can't. It frustrates him because he feels as if the anger he feels right now towards you is pointless.
Is it? Is his anger towards you unreasonable? You almost feel bad for some reason though you don't know what it is he is implying. Weird with each other? Do they find you weird with Jimin? You don’t know why they would. “Whatever, I got things to do today.” he says getting up. You hear him empty his mug and walk out. His footsteps lead upstairs to their room you suppose.
You decide you’ll just stay in your room today. As you lay in your bed you can't help but wish you had books to occupy you. Your mind racing with thoughts because it has nothing to distract it. You just stare up at the ceiling as you try not to dwell on the hot chocolate. You enjoyed it, that's all that matters. It was good, it was hot and it was sweet. All of those things are nice so why does it feel bad? You won't let it though, wont let something so pleasant be something damaging.
The sounds of birds chirping have died down. The sun now has been covered by clouds. No longer a sunny day as the rain pours down. The droplets create a rhythm on top of the roof. You must have been asleep for maybe 5 hours because the clock on the wall says it is now 1pm. Your brain must have gotten tired of thinking so many things so fast. From combating itself between two things.
You stand up and look out your window seeing the rain droplets that lay on it, some sliding down slowly. You watch them thinking back to when you lived with your fiancé. You used to watch the window when it rained feeling a sense of peace along with envy. The rain droplets got to disappear with the rise of the sun or the gusts of wind. Yet you have to exist until you can't no more.
You want to drink some water, your mouth feeling dry along with your throat. Are you dehydrated? Even if you were, you wouldn't know the signs anyway. You walk in and see the kitchen empty, feeling a bit glad at that. You grab the blue mug you washed this morning and fill it with cold water. You chug it a bit fast, the coolness of it doing wonders for you. You hear Jungkook walk in and decide it's best to just finish your water and head back to your room. It seems you make him angry despite doing nothing but I guess you are doing something.
You as a person are burdensome and you've learned that long ago. So you know why he's angry, angry at someone like you. You finish your drink in silence as he takes out ingredients. You assume he must be cooking for when his pack gets home but it's too early for that. It would be cold by the time they get here.
You place the mug on the drying rack and head back to your room. “I'm making lunch.” you turn back to find him staring at you. You just nod, unsure of what he wants you to do or say. “You're eating some.” he says pointing the wooden spoon at you that he is soon going to use. “I'm not hungry, I appreciate it though.” you decline kindly. “I didn't ask you, I said you are eating some.” he says clearly insistent. “But I'm not-” you go to protest. “When was your last meal?” he questions and your heart stops.
You feel as if you're on a stage with the brightest of light to shine on you as people watch and hear. Watching as you stand still, frightened by the thought of answering or not. Hearing your shaking voice at such a small question. Your last meal? Could you ever consider what you ate with him as meals?
“I..I've ate meals.” you answer. Jungkook lets out a flabbergasted laugh at your response. He doesn't know why you lying about this is making him feel even more concerned. He shouldn't care but Jungkook isn't a mean person. He Isn't someone who treats others unkindly. He is someone who acts on emotion though. “Yeah, like what? Can you tell me what was your last meal?” he asks as he stirs something in a pot. “I don't have to tell you that.” he hums in response.
“It's an easy question.” you rub your knuckles finding this conversation suffocating. Easy? Easy for who? The question is harder than the concrete you fall onto that scrapes your knees as a child. “I eat obviously.” you motion to your body. Jungkook looks back at you and his once cold face now turned below temperature. Face so icy it could burn as if it was fire. “Don't joke that way.” he says almost in a growl, that is if omegas could growl. The sound he made being quite lower than a hiss.
You just stand there frozen in your spot as he stares at you. His face is devoid of emotion. “Why don't you eat?” you find yourself laughing at his question. Though even to your ears your laugh sounds desperately strained, desperately afraid. “I do eat.” you reply. The lie almost feels as if it were true in your mind. You eat right? You ate those 7 banana chips and had hot chocolate. See you eat, but the more you think about it the more sick you feel. Sick that you're being caught in an act you love but hate. A sickness you despise but hug in your arms.
“Then eat what I'm cooking.” he says as if it's the smartest idea, like he solved it all. “I can’t.” you admit and go to walk away. “You can an-'' you stop and turn around frustrated. “you don't get it!” you shout. He turns off the oven and lays the spoon on the counter. The food being long forgotten. “get what? because I'm pretty sure I do.” he says, crossing his arms. “No Jungkook you don't, you don't get it because you’re you and I'm me.” you try to explain simply but your heart is beating so fast. As if admitting these things is making it want to run, beat so much it bursts and its pain that’s connected to you will be gone. Then maybe you will be gone with it.
“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” he says angry at you implying something he can't understand. “you are you okay? That's enough of an example.” you say but he isn't letting up. “No it's not I don't get what you’re say-” you groan tears sitting in your eyes. Sitting there waiting to fall, waiting for the words you feel to be said so they can hear it. Hear how pathetic you are, that the body they lie in is one full of misery
“You're pretty! God Jungkook, you're beautiful okay? You can enjoy these things. You can enjoy the savory or sweet but I can't. Omegas should be beautiful and ones like me don't get such a luxury so please just please..” you find yourself crying. The feeling being so humiliating, crying in front of people makes you appear fragile but aren't you just that? So fragile that even your own breaths hurt you, even your own tears burn your skin.
“Please just don't make me eat. I need this because then maybe I'll...'' you try to say words that sit on your tongue but they feel too heavy. Too thick to say that even your tongue won’t lift to say them. “Maybe you'll what?” Jungkook questions. You don't know though. You'll be pretty, grow thinner, be someone worthy of living. Wouldn't all of that sound so silly to someone who is all of those things?
“What is beauty to you y/n?” he asks you and you are taken back. You think about it but the answer is already being said before you can stop it. “A monster.” he hums. “Who made it that way?” you sniffle, not wanting to answer him. Tell him about the man who gave you this scar, gave you these bruises and made you this way. “Him.” Jungkook nods.
“Well fuck that guy. Fuck him and anyone else that made something soft be something detrimental. You shouldn't fucking believe people like that y/n.'' Jungkook says angrily. Is he angry at you? Probably, the way you stand in his kitchen declining his kind offer while taking up his space and now you're crying? Seeming pathetic and making the room echo with the sound of your ragged breaths. “Sorry.” you say trying to ease a tension you feel. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he continues when you don’t respond.
“Beauty is in everyone. No matter what you are or who you are. Beauty isn't a monster y/n. So get that out of your head. Beauty is in the way your lungs expand and help you breathe, in the way our scent spikes when we're happy and dull when we're sad.” he explains, hands moving with passion. The words he speaks must be words he believes to be true.
“Beauty is in the laughter we fill up rooms with. Beauty is in the food you eat that helps you survive. Beauty is in you as much as it is in me. So don't give me that ‘only pretty omega’ bullshit. Those words don't even make sense. So stop thinking them.” he says and you shake your head, is it that easy? It can't be when, “ but it's just I don't look like them. Never got to feel like them. So how could I ever say beauty is in me?” you say quietly.
Though you want to scream out to the god that gave you this body. Ask her why she chose such a thing, chose such a display. Make you the laughing stock to those who feel light on their feet. How could you tell Jungkook that beauty hasn't visited you and created a home in the metaphorical heart in the center of your chest.
The tears you shed feel heavy as they fall, almost hearing a thud as they drop. “Sorry for crying, sorry.” You hear him walking close to you and you find yourself closing your eyes expecting to be hit for crying in front of him, showing emotions you should keep hidden. Once again though nothing comes except for arms wrapping around your frame. Brown sugar surrounds you, the scent so strong this close. That it feels as if it's being injected into you, the sickly sweetness being a medicine that soothes. As if it's in your veins to calm you, mixing with the blood that has nothing pumping it. Filling it with a sense of words that aren't being said.
Jungkook doesn't know why he hugged you. Why is he still hugging you when he could have pulled away? All he knows is that you are porcelain in a way that is cracked but manages to stay together. He knows you're strong yet easily breakable.
He pulls back and looks at you. “Beauty doesn't come and go. Beauty doesn't only choose one type of person. No matter the day, beauty has always and forever will be in you. And not to sound poetic and shit but-” he stops himself to look down at you but you haven't looked up at him yet. Eyes still centered to your feet. “Beauty is gentle and kind. It soothes or stings you in ways you don't realize. In the way your laughter makes your cheeks hurt, from the way tears make your eyes burn and even in the way your body is still kicking ass day by day y/n. But you need to make it know it's okay to be just as it is, just as you are.” he finishes, voice changing to a whisper.
Soon though his voice goes back to good ol normal Jungkook. “So stop thinking dumb things like ‘only pretty omega's’ that sounds so stereotypical. So once again fuck the asshole made you believe stuff like that.” You stare up at him, eyes welling with more tears if that's even possible. You nod to him, taking his words to heart. You wish you were like Jungkook, strong, confident, and so badass.
You think he's so cool, a part of wishes and dreams you could be that one day. He moves you to a chair and tells you to sit. “I'm just making soup okay? Something light.” you nod and he goes to cook it. You sit, exhaustion filling your body. You cried yes, but you haven't cried to or with someone in ages. Maybe that's why it feels so different.
As if a vine has wrapped around your finger as a ring to say that you too can grow. All you need is a bit of help, a bit of care to help you. You know this pack house is temporary for you but why have you felt the best you've had in years in the span of a week. They aren't your friends and they may just be being nice because Jimin knows you but it feels nice sharing a conversation with them. Even crying tears with a person who hates you feels better than shedding tears with someone who torments you.
Soon a bowl of soup is placed in front of you. The soup smelling of chicken and spices. Jungkook places hiss bowl across from you and goes to grab you two each a spoon. When he sits down he takes a bite after blowing it. You watch him and he looks back at you. “What?” you shake your head. “Nothing just…thank you.” you say to him. He grunts, taking another bite of soup.
You decide you'll take a bite as well. You don't even have the brain power to focus on the thoughts that are trying to eat at you. You blow on the spoon before eating it. Once it hits your tongue your eyes widen a bit. The flavors are so new it's as if they are dancing on your tongue. The warmth of the broth and the tenderness of the chicken being foreign to you. “Jungkook, this is really good!” you tell him honestly.
Jungkook tries to hide his smile because he doesn't cook often. So he feels like his skills might be rusty. So your compliment is taken gratefully but you don't need to know that. “I mean yeah why wouldn't it be?” he smirks to himself when he hears you huff at him. “By the way this doesn't mean we're cool or anything.” he says, bringing your attention back to him. You were so focused on the cozy feeling settling in your tummy.
The soup makes you feel stuffed but so warm. Warm, warm, warmth! Such a fuzzy word and that's all you've been feeling lately. You smile at him “yeah I figured you still hate me.” you giggle lightly. Though Jungkook knows you're joking he also knows you're serious. You think he hates you? He thinks about it and does he hate you?
All he knows is that he didn't like the sound of someone saying he hates them. Jungkook doesn't hate, even when people piss him off he doesn't necessarily hate them. A silence overtakes the two of you as he finishes up his bowl. You don't know what he wants you to do with the rest as you couldn't finish it. “Full?” he asks.
You nod and he gets up grabbing your bowl and putting it in the microwave. “It's in there if you want some later.” he says, washing his bowl. You get up and go to walk out the kitchen but stop. “Jungkook?” he grunts, not facing you. “Even though you hate me, thank you for today. I was a bit much so um..” you think of what more you want to say but feel embarrassed. So you cut yourself short. “ I don't know, okay bye bye.” you say before you walk away. He hears your door open and then you're gone, silent.
Jungkook smiles and though he doesn't want to, he finds it staying on his face for a while. Jungkook may not like you or want you here but….maybe you're more bearable than he thought and maybe just maybe, he took note of your favorite color very thoroughly.
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cry me a river | the liar
— summary: hoseok lied about choosing you, namjoon lied about leaving you, but the biggest liar of them all is you
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, mafia!au
— word count: 9.1k
— warnings: mentions of food poisoning, mentions of starving, fear of food, allusions to eating disorder, manipulation, y/n isn't in her right mind, talks of death, death attempt, ptsd
— PART 17 / previous post / masterpost
“Isn’t she pretty?” You say as you play with the white thin strings that hold the doll upright. “A pretty little doll, so perfect.”
She wears a white dress that falls to her ankles, dark black hair held in an updo, eyes that flutter open and close each time you move her head up and down, her wrists, back, head, and legs all held up by thin strings.
So petite and fragile.
“Look Dasom, watch this.” You stand from your seat, the strings in one hand as you hold it up into the air, and reach for the scissors. Dasom watches, lips sealed, her back standing straight with hands held behind. You take the scissors and you stare right at her, cutting the strings where they’re held together in your hands.
And down the doll falls in an instant.
Dasom doesn’t flinch.
“Pitiful, isn’t she?” You place the scissors onto the table and crouch down to pick the broken doll up. The wrists where the strings held caused her hand to detach from her body, a leg twisted, a knee to her foot also detached, bits of pieces broken like scars, no longer a part of her body anymore, and one eye remains wide open while the other falls half-lidded.
“The doll once belonged to someone, until it was passed over and promised by a new owner to always hold on and never let go. The new owner treated her well for some time but unexpectedly, they decided to cut all the strings and as a result, here she lies, broken on the ground, and returned to the previous owner to…reattach the strings once more.” You look up at her as you stand back up again and place the doll on the table, right next to the scissors. “You understand that, don’t you? After all, when we first met, you were the same; a perfect little doll forcibly passed onto my father.”
Dasom remains quiet but you see the way she clenches her jaws and you look back down at the doll. You take the hand that broke away itself from the body after its fall and look at it for some time.
“We’re the only ones who can fix ourselves, Dasom. If we trust in anyone else, who’s to say they won’t break us more than we are now? That’s why you cannot trust anyone, not even I. Because one day, I may betray you. Just as one day, you may betray me. Do not look at me as your savior, do not get blinded for even a moment, because when it comes down to it, one day…I may even end up just like my father and hurt you all over again. And when that moment comes, if I ever betray your trust and become the person my father was…your trust in me will hurt you more than anything. So never trust me, Dasom. Never.”
She stands alone in the room when you leave, heels clicking away, head never turning back for a second glance.
Dasom stands there for the longest time, staring at the broken doll who lays on the table, the scissors right beside her, and just before any memories can fall into her thoughts, the door opens to reveal Mingyu.
“What did boss tell you?” He asks when he walks in, and pauses momentarily at the broken doll on the table, before he looks at Dasom again, a mark of concern on his features. “Did she say something out of line?”
She looks up, meeting his gaze as her shoulder tenses even more. “She reminded me not to trust her,” she says, her brows furrowed. “She warned me to not look at her as a savior, that there will always be a chance she may end up like her father, like my perpetrator, like our perpetrator…..like her perpetrator….and that where we are now is just a fleeting moment in time, that just because she saved me doesn’t mean she can’t also be the one to cut my strings and I’ll end up more broken than I am…was.”
Mingyu keeps his eyes on her when she reaches for the doll, caressing it while throwing the scissors roughly to the side. Away from view.
“She said that only I can fix whatever was broken when my family was still alive and when her father still lived.”
“So. Do you believe her?”
“No,” she says without hesitation, eyes looking up at him with desperation meant for him to understand. “Because she saved me. She fixed me. Us. She took all the pieces that make up the Reapers, sewed our hands and feet, opened our eyes, helped us stand and run and fight, and become the sort of people that we are now, strong enough to protect her, to return the kindness that she had in her heart to fix what had been left broken by the people that have hurt us but we’ll never be enough, will we? No matter what we do, we’ll never be able to save her.”
“...” Mingyu takes a step forward to gently caress the hair of the broken doll in Dasom’s hand. He smooths down the disheveled mess and plays with the broken eye, silent for a moment, before he utters the words that the Reapers know yet hate to hear the most.
“Because boss doesn’t want to be saved.”
There is one part of the manor you’ve never returned to ever since destroying and rebuilding what your father cherished ever since that night you came back with news of his death and decided to rid all of his followers. There is one part of the manor you left untouched, one part of the manor even your reapers do not go near; your annex.
Where resides your old room, Mister Butler’s old room, the torture rooms; Yuna’s room 157, and,
The White Room.
You don’t know why your feet have decided to drag you down here, why you’re walking this way. It’s been months after all, months. You remember your eyes catching a glimpse of the calendar in that room you were in with Dasom and realize that it’s almost been a year since you decided to pursue your revenge plan.
It’s almost been a year.
A year since your father’s death, a year since his life ended and you seeking for your supposed lost freedom, a year since you’ve met with your ex-boyfriends, ex-husband, and although the revenge isn’t even a step close to being completed, perhaps now is when Namjoon will decide upon going back to the two of you never seeing each other again.
It won’t be unexpected.
You’ve given him the bait, after all, told him you killed his precious older brother, so you’re sure there’s only so little time left before he calls you over to discuss business on the alliance. After taking some time for grievance and taking in what you told him, he’ll end things.
It’ll end soon and you won’t have to see them ever again.
It’ll end soon.
So perhaps the reason why you’re walking towards an empty room, Mister Butler’s room, is for this very fact; to apologize.
Because if you can’t give Namjoon the truth, if you have to hold your peace forever and make him think you’re the bad guy, make him believe that all those hopes and dreams he had were for naught and turn you into the villain that you are so that he can hate you and push you away, the least you can do is apologize to his older brother.
Because despite how cruel Namjoon was to you in the last weeks of your broken marriage, Mingyu is right in saying that he didn’t deserve what you’ve done.
Meeting toxicity with toxicity will only fire back in the end.
And even if you did have a good reason, it’s still a selfish reason.
But Namjoon was getting too close to your liking. He was beginning to doubt, beginning to question, and you didn’t like questions because questions meant getting close to the truth, questions meant doubting the facade you pull every day in front of everyone, questions meant reviewing the past and realizing something was wrong from the very beginning.
You can’t have him doubting your happy fairytale with your father, the story made of rainbows and sunshine, the house of cards you and your father created with your hard work and easy lies.
Letting him think you’re the bad guy is the only thing you can do.
The hallway down the annex is daunting.
You hate all the repressed memories that wish to reappear, the cold air it carries, the ghosts of the past trying to touch your shoulder and crawl back into your life. It’s dark, so dark, and with each step echoes the daunting wails of the ghosts who hold onto your ankles, unwilling to let go.
The air is heavy, hoping to drag you down with the memories. Your footsteps are heavy.
You hate the distant screams you hear in the back of your mind. You hate the silence.
You feel your hands trembling, the way your knees falter and the heels underneath you threaten to twist. It feels numb. Your legs feel numb. But you keep your eyes straight ahead, not daring to take a glance to the side otherwise all those memories you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden will resurface and you can’t have that.
You can’t have it.
So when you reach Mister Butler’s room, you just simply stand right before it, facing it head-on but refusing to reach a hand out, twist the knob, and take a step in.
You stand there, staring.
You know that the room is empty; no furniture, no presence, nothing, and so you keep it that way because you’d rather imagine there is something in there.
His old bed, his old closet, the precious things that he kept in that room……Him.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, head lowered, eyes falling to your feet, bowed into a ninety-degree level. “I’m sorry.”
There is no one here, no one except you, but you still feel the coziness in the lost fragments of your memories, the only warmth in this annex, distant but felt, just like in the past. A gentle child’s voice echoes in your ears, laughing. An older gentleman follows along, kind and sweet just as it always was.
Why did he have to come here? Why couldn’t he have stayed at his own home? Why did he care for a child who held no relation to him?
He should have stayed, shouldn’t have taken up the mission his father gave him, stayed with his little brother and he’d have still been alive.
In meeting you, he died. In loving you, his life was taken away.
“I hope you can forgive me,” you say softly, knowing he hears every word you utter whether it’s barely audible or not. “I’ve hurt your little brother, told him a lie he believed in, crushed his hopes of seeing you reappear in his life ever again. I’m sorry for hurting him…If you were here, would you forgive me? Mister Butler, I…please…tell me what to do…”
There were times when you wished everything had been nothing but a long, long nightmare. Times when you’d wake up and run to Mister Butler’s room just around the corner, hoping, searching, just to see nothing.
No warmth. No smile. No kindness.
No Mister Butler.
He told you about his little brother once. Once. When he was tired and you were on the brink of falling asleep. You remember the gentle hand that patted your head ever so often, his voice soft when he spoke of his brother, eyes filled with happiness but with a bit of regret, a bit of guilt, a bit of longing.
He wanted to return, you realized years later and to this day you still wonder why he hadn’t. He should have, he had his chances, you were sure of it. If Namjoon and his father are both men known for their intelligence, then you’re sure Mister Butler should have been able to make his escape with the brain that he had.
But he never left and sometimes you wonder.
Was it because of you?
Did he stay because of you?
“I killed him,” the words repeat in the back of your head as you recall Namjoon’s confrontation. You may have not been the one to have pulled the trigger but perhaps you were the cause for it. Father told you he shot him because he was your weakness and perhaps father knew at the time he was an enemy in disguise, but at the end of the day, Mister Butler could have escaped.
“I killed him because of you,” Father said and for a while, you believed it. But there was another time you doubted his words, believed that it was just his way of manipulating you once more, that he was just saying it because he wanted to hurt a little kid like you.
And now that you think about it, perhaps you really did kill him. Because father’s right.
If it wasn’t for you, he would have been an ordinary man who didn’t catch father’s attention. If it wasn’t for you, father wouldn’t have cared about his existence. The very fact that Mister Butler looked out for you, cared for you, showed you kindness, and loved you, was the very reason father saw through him and decided to kill him.
If it wasn’t for you, he could have lived.
He could have lived.
You bite onto your lower lip, hard, and a memory resurfaces.
“Don’t bite too hard, young miss, you’ll bleed.”
He’s crouched down to your level, a hand reaching out to swipe along your lips when your teeth bite against it, while his other hand holds your head in gentle strokes, soothing whatever it is that has upset you this time.
“..Why?” You croak out, tears held back as you stare up at him with wide, bulged-out eyes, not daring to blink otherwise the tears will roll down your cheeks. Father says crying is weak. Father hates tears and you don’t want him to keep hating you.
You have to be loved. You have to earn his love. And only good girls can be loved. Only strong girls.
“If I do this, then it’ll be easier to not cry.”
Mister Butler knits his brows, that kind smile replaced by pained anguish. “If you do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I don’t care,” you say. “Father doesn’t like people who cry and if I keep being weak, I’ll never earn father’s love. I have to earn his love otherwise I’ll never be capable of love and—”
He cuts you off when he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around your petite body and pressing your face into his chest. “Don’t say that.” His voice sounds so odd when he says that. “Don’t, please..please don’t.” As if he were the one in pain, as if he were the one hurting in your stead, like an older brother who can’t bear the sight of his little sister in pain. Like it’s physically hurting him that you’re hurting. “You are worth so much more than what your father thinks of you as, my lady.”
“But I..I’m not.” You try to force yourself away from his embrace, hands balling into fists as you punch his chest and push him away. You can never be anywhere stronger than Mister Butler but he lets go, leaves because you want him to go. “If you keep showing me kindness, if you keep spoiling me, I will never get strong.”
“You don’t have to be strong.”
“But I do! Because then father will never love me!”
His face contours in pained frustration as he clenches his jaw and when you think about it now, perhaps what Mister Butler wanted to say was ‘Your father will never love you no matter how weak or strong you are’ and he’s right. Father is a monster who cannot love another human being.
But the little you then would never understand and would only hurt more if he were to utter such words.
So he swallows those words and holds your shoulders, keeping his anger in to not scare you off.
“Do you think of yourself as incapable of being loved because you are weak?” He asks and you nod.
“I can’t be loved. No one will love me if I’m weak.”
“I love you,” Mister Butler says. “I love you,” he stresses. “I promise I love you so please…please cry.” He cups your tiny face in his large hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You don’t have to hold it in, young miss. When you’re around me, you don’t have to worry about trying to act proper and trying to act strong because I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. You can lash out, you can throw a tantrum, you can scream at me and hit me and spit in my face and—”
“I’d never!” You quickly shout, face contouring in horror as if the very thought of it could break you. “I’d never, Mister Butler, I’d never.”
“I know,” he nods, pressing his forehead to yours, “I know but my lady, you…you don’t have to worry about anything because no matter what happens, I’ll love you. Even if you cry, young miss, I’m right here. I won’t leave, I won’t throw you away so it’s okay. It’s okay to cry because I’m here. I’ll still love you no matter what. So stop holding those tears in, yeah? Cry. It’s alright to cry.”
“No one’s here. No one can hear you in this room. It’s soundproof and no one ever comes around in these halls so it’s okay. No one can hear you except me. And I love you so it’s okay. It’s okay, young miss. It’s okay to cry.”
Your lips quiver, trembling, and he nods, encouraging you. When the first tear falls with consent, the rest follows and you close your eyes shut, allowing them all to fall like rushing waterfalls.
Against all the things your father had instilled in you, Mister Butler doesn’t leave, he doesn’t discard you. He presses your face into his chest, holds you as tight as he can, and in the sounds of your cries, you don’t realize that he trembles slightly, afraid, frightened, and angry.
You don’t remember the last time you cried but you know that it was before Mingyu came. Before he arrived.
You were broken before he arrived so Yuna is the only Reaper who has ever seen you cry but you don’t know if she can recall the exact moment you stopped shedding tears.
It’s been a while even you can’t remember. Your memories are hazy from those times, when things were rougher, when it was only Yuna who watched you every day like a frightened child losing their precious mother who lied on their deathbed.
Yuna was the only one who saw you through it all, who was there when you still had a soft heart, innocent and precious, who smiled kindly. She was there to see that light stripped away from your eyes, right there when you had let the darkness win, when you succumbed to it.
When you fell silent. Completely silent.
When you broke.
She was right there. The only Reaper to know and to remember all that you were and all that was lost. She may never be able to see again but you remember those eyes, those eyes that were far too young to see such a thing happening right before her.
Those precious eyes that you yourself had to rid of.
Perhaps that’s why in some ways, the others are a little gentler towards her and allow her to take care of your needs when Mingyu isn’t there. Perhaps that’s why they let her near you when you don’t want anyone in.
And perhaps that’s why you let her in.
Because she knows and because she remembers the things even you can’t remember.
Yuna remembers. She remembers everything.
But she was too young to lead the Reapers, too young to know everything on what to do when it came to you and your needs. You needed so much, too much, and her young mind wouldn’t allow her to think things through properly to know just what to do.
When you’d panic, when you’d freeze up, when you’d grow angry, when you’d refuse to eat anything, when you’d get silent, completely silent.
You needed to be saved and Yuna didn’t know how to do it.
She was too young.
While she knew how to comfort and provide you warmth, you needed much more than that, you needed a foundation that could hold you steady and keep you grounded. You needed Mingyu.
And Mingyu came.
And together, the two of them became the first Reapers only loyal to you, building something much stronger than anyone could ever imagine.
You saved Dasom, Mingyu allowed her to pledge her allegiance, and together with Yuna, they taught her on what she needed to know.
Then Yeonjun came along and the same thing repeated over and over again until you created a network of Reapers under your own control, who were loyal to you, and who hated your father all the same.
None of them, except Yuna, has ever seen you cry.
Not even Mingyu.
But you’ll never show them now, or ever. Because you’ve lost it all.
Your eyes can no longer cry.
Father has trained you well.
“My lady?” You hear footsteps, two pairs, and look up to find Yuna and Yeonjun walking toward you.
How they knew where to find you, you’ll never know, but you guess no matter what happens, your Reapers will always manage to find you wherever you are so you shouldn’t be surprised.
They take one look at the door beside you and they can already imply just why you were down here in the annex where you’ve forbidden yourself to come to. There’s something in Yuna’s hand which she hides away behind her back after taking a glance at the door, but you’ve already caught sight of it; it’s a letter.
A letter. Which means Namjoon has finally decided to formally end things.
You ignore it.
“Yuna. Yeonjun.” They come at your call. “I hate this place,” you say. “I hate it. I hate it.”
The air feels heavier, trying to constrict your breathing, something weighing on your chest, something trying to tear you down.
Your hand trembles when you reach out and Yuna’s right there to help you keep steady on your feet as Yeonjun offers his back to you. You climb on with some effort, eyes shut tightly closed as you press your face into his shoulder, hating everything about this annex.
It’s cold, too cold. You tighten your hold on Yeonjun, terrified and wanting the ground to swallow you whole so that you can disappear forever. You want to get out. Get out.
Everything screams at you in your head, the ghosts of the past reappearing, the distant sound of a little girl crying and begging and pleading for someone, anyone, while the two guards stand completely silent outside the doors of the White Room, not moving a single inch despite how hard she screams at them to come, to save her.
You hear it loud and clear in your head.
Loud and loud and loud in the silence of the annex.
Yeonjun runs out of here in an instant.
“Are you disappointed?” You ask, a small tilt in your head, raising a brow, with a quirk to the corner of your lips.
You look calm, carefree, and that playful smirk on your face is almost taunting him but Hoseok knows better than that. He knows not to take the bait in the same way Namjoon and the others have. This is just a facade.
“How can I be disappointed…when it wasn’t you who killed him?” He asks and there’s a small little falter in your lips.
The sharp corner falls and your eyelids rest to show your disappointment in him not catching the fishing hook you’ve dropped into the pond. You look upset, as if wondering why he still wishes to believe in you, why he still remembers the girl you once were when you lived with them, when you loved them dearly and when they loved you the same.
Hoseok stares right at you, unblinking, and perhaps that’s what makes you take a step back, hating his strong pursuit in not believing the words that leave your mouth, hating that he makes you falter, that he seems to hold power over you.
You look away, not wanting him to search through your eyes, and utter, “There’s no use believing in the girl you thought you knew.”
“Just like how I shouldn’t have believed in the girl who lied to me about being alright?” He asks, stopping you from turning your feet and walking away from him. You’re here for Namjoon, he knows, and sooner or later this alliance between the two gangs may fall apart but before any of that can happen, before he can never see you ever again unless by chance, Hoseok has to say something.
Before it’s too late.
“You never told me you went on your knees,” he says, jaws clenched.
“Why would I have told you that?”
“Do you think it’s shameful being desperate for something? Wanting love and attention from your loved ones?”
“I don’t know, Hoseok,” you look up at him, shrugging, challenging him, “why don’t you ask Namjoon that?”
He bites his inner cheek, eyes drifting off to the side because he knows. If there were anyone he should have asked that question to, it would be Namjoon.
“I could have done something,” he says, voice quieter, upset.
You laugh at those words, shaking your head. “Oh Hoseok, there was nothing you could have done at that point. Once a man like Namjoon makes up his mind, not even the strongest wind can make him bend a knee.” Ironic how you were the one begging instead. “He stopped loving me and the rest followed along because to them, to..you, I will always come second to Namjoon.”
“Don’t lie to me,” you cut him off sharply, eyes piercing. “The number one rule in the mafia is to never betray the gang otherwise you die, and obviously Namjoon would never kill any of you but you have nothing left without the gang right? Even if you had known the truth then, even if they had told you every last detail about what happened, you would have ended up just like the rest of the boys. You would have chosen Namjoon, and I would have been left all alone without anyone to rely on.” With a bitter smile curled along your lips, your eyes drift down to the floor, a flash of memory falling through your mind. “Don’t you think I kept everything a secret from you for a reason?”
You look back up at him, a pressed smile, “To hold onto that last piece of fantasy I blinded myself into living before letting it all fall apart. You would have ended up like them, Hoseok, like the rest of the boys. Even if they still loved me then, even if it was against their will what Namjoon did and even if they resented Namjoon for some time for it, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurts because you would have done the same, whether you think that’s true or not, you would have chosen Namjoon, it’s only inevitable.”
You begin to turn away from him, walking off. “You all loved him more than I, after all, and I would have been your second choice as well. Don’t lie to yourself, Jung Hoseok.”
Hoseok doesn’t have a say before you’re walking away, leaving him alone in the halls as he hears your heels clicking away.
A deafening silence.
You can never get used to silence no matter how long you’ve spent almost your entire life drowned in it because when it’s silent, your mind likes to speak. It likes to act. It likes to play with you.
Playing and playing and playing until you get too exhausted it drains all that you are.
You hate silence.
Hate it more than anything.
More than your father perhaps.
“So,” hence you’re the one to break it with a leg crossing over the other, leaning back as you play on an easygoing expression as if Mister Butler’s death meant nothing to you and that despite how much you came to resent Namjoon, letting him know that his brother died did nothing to your conscience.
“Shall we get straight to the point? We’re ending things, yeah?”
His thick brows knit, chin protruding in the way it always does when he’s angry or serious, his inner cheeks bitten upon.
That’s right, hate me some more.
“Do you have nothing to say?” He keeps his voice restrained, holding back his emotions, but you want to push his buttons. Want him to hate you with all that he has.
“Did you want an apology? Want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness like that night almost eleven years ago?”
“I can do it if you’d like,” you uncross your legs, standing, “I have no shame after all.”
On your knees, “I apologize for—”
“Stop!” He shouts at you, eyes reddening and there are signs of fatigue, nights he spent restless, nights he spent shedding tears for the news that you gave him, the bags he doesn’t care to hide, hair imperfect, disheveled, different from his perfect image, the stare in his eyes holding so many emotions it’s a surprise he’s deciding not to hide them before you.
Namjoon is a man who holds his walls up high.
Not as high as you but high enough.
He isn’t one to let people read him that easily yet here he is, emotions on full display.
Awkwardly, you stand back up to sit back down on the seat provided for you, feigning an exasperated sigh as if all of this was just a hindrance to your schedule and you’d rather run off killing the people on your hit list.
Namjoon presses his fingers to his temples, trying to keep himself controlled and calm and you frown at the fact that he isn’t lashing out more at you.
You want him to hate you even more than he feels now.
“Why?” He asks, voice strained and quieter.
You shrug. “Was I supposed to know it was your brother I killed then? We didn’t even know each—”
“You found out your old butler was my brother when you approached me again after ten years. You knew he was dead then and you used that to your advantage, hitting me at my weakest. Why?”
“Why?” You feign a chuckle as if the answer was that obvious. “To use you, of course. I needed your power, Namjoon. As a newly developed leader in the mafia world, climbing up the ranks was easy doing it alongside you. You got me to go up against Daejung, helped with Ying and Jummy, and even came to London with me. Not to mention your position as my ally itself scored me a lot of bonuses. Why wouldn’t I have used you? You made a great pawn on my chess board.”
A pawn, right.
“That was all I ever was to you, right? So isn’t it fair I did the same to you?”
He hates that silly little smile you press his way.
“Did none of my sincerity ever mean anything to you?”
The talks of the past, a face of offense as if you’re the only one at fault here. Your little smile falls, though a rueful chuckle leaves your lips. “You talk of the past as if it was just a few years ago. It’s not been a few years, Namjoon, it’s been ten, almost eleven. And in that span of time, a lot has changed. Do you still blindly believe I’m still the person I was then in the same way Hoseok still believes in it?”
His eyes harden. “I know you aren’t the same.”
“That’s right, I’ve changed. You used me as a pawn then, right? Discarded my feelings, all my sincerity, and threw me out when I was no longer useful to you. Why should it matter what I do to you now?”
“I didn’t use anyone you loved against you.”
“You used the boys against me.” You stand from your seat, glaring his way, and he follows suit. “You admitted it, Namjoon, you fell out of love with me, but you falling out of love doesn’t mean it’d be the same for the boys but in the end, they chose you.”
“How is that my fault?”
“It is your fault. A lot of their actions were their own faults but they were entirely your fault. Having you first, loving you first, and having gotten saved by you left them with no other choice but to choose you. If I had fallen out of love with you, they would have still chosen you. Don’t you get that? I wasn’t ever going to be a choice in that relationship, I was always on the losing end, and I would have inevitably gotten tossed away to the side whether you stopped loving me or not. If you had just stopped loving me, why didn’t you just say that? Why did you have to be a coward and made me believe I wasn’t ever going to be enough for you?”
“You ended up fine anyways,” he argues, “It’s not like you had nowhere else to go. Your father accepted you back with open arms.”
Ended up fine?
Your father welcomed you back with open arms?
And Namjoon watches with slight confusion plastered on his face as fits of laughter leaves your lips so obnoxiously you almost sound crazy and out of your mind.
You are crazy and out of your mind because it sounds so funny to you, his words. Your shoulders tremble, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as your eyes crinkle into crescent moons.
“You..really…” It starts to die down, slowly. “So that’s what it was, huh? You decided to play with my feelings, feign the fact that I wasn’t enough so I’d hate you and willingly divorce you on my own so I could return to my dear loving father? That was the story?” When he doesn’t answer your question, the silence answers itself.
Namjoon fell out of love and he thought the best decision to make everyone hurt a little less was to return you to your dear father.
Where you’d live out a fantasy and be that lovely little daughter protected by a father, loved and cherished by her people, and not get thrown into a lonely room, a cold, white room. Where you did not get neglected, wondering what her next meal would be because sometimes they come in small platters, or sometimes they don’t come at all, or sometimes you’d get too afraid of it being poisoned because your father has tried to kill you before as a child.
Once? Twice? No.
You can’t count how many times you believed over and over again as a child, thought the food was okay, only to end up in bed sick in the body for days and left on your own to take care of your own self.
Father wanted you dead and he did what he could to try and kill you. You don’t know when he stopped, or if he ever did, because by the time you learned to stop believing in the food he fed you, you started relying on your own self to grab the food you were sure hadn’t gotten touched yet by anyone.
So came the days when you stopped eating, when you wouldn’t eat at all.
Sometimes just bread crumbs you could find in the kitchen, sneaking out in the middle of the night when almost everyone was asleep, stealing bread.
So when you returned, the nightmares and fear returned.
Because Bangtan never gave you wasted food or anything that was poisoned. You remember it well, remember keeping your eyes open and pointed, watching the way the servers would serve food in random order, watching the way everyone took a bite first before having enough courage to eat yourself.
You never showed them your fears so they never knew and they still don’t.
But you’ve always been afraid of food.
And Yuna was the first person you ever trusted to make you food when you returned to the Reaper’s manor. You only ate what she gave you.
Only ate whatever she could make with her horrible cooking skills; eggshells in her egg sandwiches, food too salty, too bitter, too dirty in color, and sometimes they weren’t even edible.
But you ate them because she was the only person you could trust. The only one.
If she poisoned you it’d be an accident but you still ate it because it was Yuna. The first Reaper, the very first one. The only one you could trust.
The only one.
“You know, I’m glad your brother’s dead.”
Words uttered that don’t have any emotions behind them at all but you utter them with disgust, with contempt, and with hatred for the one who forced you back into that hell and made you fear for every second you lived in that manor when your father was still alive.
There were days when you didn’t eat at all, days when brought into the White Room, you’d just lie there against the wall or on the floor, eyes blank and dull, no hope left in them, no words escaping, no cries for help, no more calling for Hoseok because no one would come.
Nothing kept you warm except a flimsy old blanket Yuna would put on you but even that wasn’t enough to keep your temperature up.
Or sometimes your temperature would get too high and you’d tremble in that lonely room. The echoes of Yuna’s cries ringing in your ears but you don’t remember a lot of it because every day was like that; painful until you could feel no more.
Painful until you decided to get stronger, to feel all of your father’s wrath and all of his torture.
Hurting even more.
Namjoon will never know what his actions had put you through. He’ll never know.
“Excuse me?” So he glares at you when you tell him those words about his brother, believing in your lies, believing in your anger.
You see the way his eyes shake, hands balling into fists and if you were a man, you’re sure he wouldn’t have held himself back from hauling a punch right onto your face. It’s funny to you, so funny, because you want him to hit you, you want him to hurt you.
You want to feel the pain.
“You..you’re a monster.”
“That’s right, I am.” You play along with his anger, fueling it, wanting him to hate you even more. “I’m a monster, Namjoon. I killed the father who loved me so dearly and I killed the butler who showed me nothing but kindness. Do you know how gentle he was with me? When I’d cry, he’d hold me, when I’d bite onto my lower lips to keep the tears in, he’d worry about my lips bleeding. He’d give me extra treats, stealing the sweets when no one was looking. He’d ask ‘my lady, have you eaten?’ or ‘young miss, don’t eat too fast, the food isn’t going anywhere.’ And when I’d get in trouble and hide away from the adults, he’d be the very first one who’d find me. He always found me. No matter where I’d hide, no matter where I was, he’d find me. He’d be the first one to notice if something was wrong. Always checked my temperature in the morning, always made sure I was eating well, always made sure he was around to play with me if father was too busy or if mother was too sick to pay attention. Your brother loved me. And you know what I did?”
You show him your fingers, the index and middle pressed up against one another with the thumb off to the side, and slowly point it towards your temple, playing a trigger pulled and jerk your head to the side, laughing in Namjoon’s face.
“I killed him, Namjoon. I killed him. I told the Reapers to pull the trigger and he fell dead right before my foot, shocked I betrayed him.”
Namjoon trembles, eyes drifting off to the side, shaking, unsteady, breath held up against him as if he can’t breathe.
“I killed your brother, Namjoon,” you chant like a psychopath. Chanting, chanting, chanting. “I killed Jungwon, I killed your brother.”
He’s weak in his knees, he can’t hold himself up.
His hands come up to hold his face, breathing in, breathing out, while you chant and chant, until Namjoon looks through the cracks of his fingers, piercing eyes, red, a glare mirroring that of the devil, and it’s then that you realize he must really want to kill you right now.
So you push his buttons even further.
“Kill me, Namjoon.”
His hands slowly and shakily fall from his face, wrinkles in between his brows. “What?”
You take a step forward, ignoring all warning signs from your body because Leehyun still has lasting effects on you, and take Namjoon’s wrists, forcing his hands to wrap around your neck with a strong hold. He tries to pull back but you don’t let him.
“Kill me right now,” you dare, eyes staring straight into his soul. “Do it, do us both a favor, Namjoon. If you hate me that much, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”
For what he did to you, calling you names, belittling you, made you feel unwanted, forced you to rip your ring off, kicked you out, throwing you back to your father. Death feels less painful than all the things you went through when you ran back to the arms of your father.
For throwing you back into the lion’s den when you had escaped for the first time, Namjoon killing you would have been no different.
“Why don’t you just kill me?”
“Are you crazy?! Let go of me.”
“End me!” You push against his hold, tightening both your hands around your neck. “Do it now! You hate me, don’t you? I’m giving you permission now so just do it! I’m right here in your territory so there’s no one to stop you and even after the Reapers get the news of my death, it’s not as if they can kill you. You're stronger than me, stronger than us, and you have men much stronger than we will ever be. So what’s holding you back? End all of your sufferings and you’ll never have to see my disgusting face ever again. End me..-!”
In the midst of trying to pull away and rid of his grip around your neck, Namjoon accidentally pushes you too hard so you end up on the floor and his eyes widen, a gasp leaving his lips. “Y/N, I—”
“Kill me already!” You’re shouting still, wheezing from the chokehold, coughs leaving you, and while he gets distracted by those painful coughs, your eyes find the gun he placed on the coffee table just before the talk and rush to reach for it.
Only to have it snatched away by your ex-husband.
He presses something on his watch and the door opens, revealing Yoongi and Seokjin.
“Detain her,” Namjoon commands, and they look with confusion.
“She’s not in her right mind.”
Your eyes widen, rushing to stand, only to have someone holding you down. “Namjoon, stop being a coward and do it already!” You twist your body against Yoongi and Seokjin’s holds, trying to push them off. “Kill me already!”
Other footsteps are heard, the rest of them have probably come at the sound of your voice, but you’re still jerking about with all of your might. Why does it matter they’re here now? Rushing into the room, eyes widened and filled with a type of fear that wants to understand what’s happening and why you’re acting the way that you are.
Why does it matter now? Why do they have to act like they care? They could have cared then and it would have made a difference but caring now does nothing for you.
“Get off me!”
You use your legs, kicking Seokjin away, and use your head to shoot back and hit Yoongi right on his forehead, causing both their grips to falter for a second, and in that second, you escape from them.
“Y/N-” Namjoon comes to stop you but you punch your fist right into the coffee table, causing the glass to shatter from underneath and allowing your skin to tear, blood pooling all about.
The room falls silent.
“Do you know how much it hurts?” You look up, meeting his eyes. You stare at the gun in his hand, the one you failed to grab, the shattered coffee table, and turn at the rest of them before letting out a chuckle as if everything about this was funny. But it’s not funny. It’s not.
“I thought I stopped feeling long ago but it still hurts,” you say at the hand that bleeds with glass shards cut deep inside your skin but they know you aren’t just talking about your hand. “It hurts so much. But you don’t care one bit, do you? Just like that night years ago when I fell on my knees and begged for the pain to stop. You didn’t care then, why would you care now?”
You look at them again, feeling that familiar ache in your chest, a familiar pain you haven’t felt in a long, long time.
“I never begged for help until that last second but you knew, didn’t you? You knew that I was afraid and that I wanted help. You knew I was hurting. But what did you do but live in ignorance bliss, pretending as if nothing had changed and that Namjoon wasn’t purposefully hurting me just to force me into making a decision that he wanted; me out of your lives. You knew everything and you did nothing. If you tell me you cared then, that you did still love me then, then I call that bullshit because how can you love someone and willingly watch them fall apart?
“Ah but I get it,” you sigh, scoffing, “you couldn’t do anything because it was against the mafia’s code, right? Because Namjoon’s your boss, because loving me still and taking my side meant betraying your boss, the boss that saved you, the boss that loved you. If you went against him, if you chose me over him, that would have meant betraying the gang and you have nothing left if you left the gang, right?”
You look at Namjoon, eyes hardening. “That’s what you did, Namjoon. You forced them into a corner, forced them to choose you. Because of your stubborn and selfish ass, you broke apart what could have worked out if you had only tried just a little bit more. Oh, but why does it matter? Why should you continue trying when I could just return to my dear precious gang and live a life of bliss, escaping your abuse and your selfish acts, returning to the people that actually loved me? Because to you, in your head, you thought that I’d be happier if I was to return rather than remain in a toxic environment right? And then everyone would be happy because no matter how much the guys resented you then, in the end they’d forgive you and you’d all return to loving once again and we’d all live happily, ever, after. Me with my gang. You with yours.”
How funny is that?
Everyone lived happily in the end, happy and joyful and back to loving once again as if those three years with you had never existed in the first place. As if you never existed in the first place.
Everyone lived happily ever after.
Everyone but you.
You turn to your bleeding fist and hold it up to take a closer look, hating how your hand trembles, how you can’t seem to hide your anger and pain and fear this time.
No one says anything, no one answers.
It’s silent. You hate silence.
Leehyun walks into your mind when you remember touching Namjoon and letting Yoongi and Seokjin touch you. They’re all here in this room, watching you, staying completely silent because they know all the words you’ve said are true and have no courage to say anything that will rebuke you.
Your left hand comes up to hold your right arm, hugging yourself against the cold chill that falls down your body.
It’s dark, why is it so dark? You don’t remember the room being this dark when you first entered and no one is moving, no one has done anything to make this room darker but it’s dark. Dark.
Father likes it when it’s cold. Father likes it when you tremble like a leaf, telling you that you’re better off getting used to the cold but you never did and you don’t think you ever will.
You hate the cold.
You hate the silence, the dark, and the cold.
And when you look up, this time the faces in the room aren’t clear in your vision anymore. Everyone is a blur so you can’t make out what they look like, how they’re looking at you, if they still look concerned, if they still look the same as they had when they first walked in.
Your chest feels heavy, your throat feels as if someone is holding onto it like that moment you forced Namjoon’s hands around you.
He’s not touching you, he’s a few feet away but he’s not touching you. No one is. But you feel a presence, a heavy presence that constricts your breathing, that touches your skin, the nape of your neck.
Why did you touch him? Why did you force him to touch you?
Get away. Please get away.
You take a step back, afraid, and stumble upon something. Perhaps your own foot. But when someone holds an arm out, you immediately put on a defensive stance.
“Don’t touch me,” you demand. “Don’t come near me.”
The room is wide, large, so you move to a corner, away from them, and slide down the wall to rest on your bottom because your legs feel weak, because you can’t keep holding yourself up anymore.
You hear a voice in the distance, someone saying Mingyu’s name, but you don’t know what they’re saying. You feel eyes, eyes, and put your head down, afraid.
A second passes.
You count the beat of your heart which drums loud and hard against your chest to let you know that you’re still alive, that you’re still living. You count it.
One beat. Two beats. Three beats.
Mingyu says that if he’s not around, you have to get into a corner where no one can touch you, where no one is around, and listen to your heartbeat. You have to count it until he comes.
Until he comes.
Breathe in and out. Don’t forget to breathe.
Four beats. Five beats.
Six. Seven. Eight…
So Mingyu gets called after Namjoon makes a command and when he arrives, you’re sat in the corner of a room, left alone, head lowered, surrounded by seven men who watch your every move from a distance, not wanting you to ever leave their vision in case you do something irrational again.
He’s shocked at the scene, at the hands that still bleed because you refused any treatment, refused anyone to touch you, to come near you.
Mingyu takes a glance at Namjoon for some answers but he says nothing and only looks away to hide his gun behind his back so Mingyu turns back to you and walks over to you, kneeling before you.
“...Boss,” he calls, gently. He makes sure he doesn’t sound cautious, makes sure he doesn’t sound afraid, worried. “Hey, Boss. I’m here. It’s Mingyu.”
You look up slowly and he has to keep himself back from letting out a gasp at the red ring around your neck. Someone touched you but he knows Namjoon wouldn’t have deliberately hurt you on purpose. Did you do something? What happened? Why are you like this?
You say nothing but those eyes of yours are dead. Tired. And when he presses a hand against your cheek, you lean into it, closing your eyes, nuzzling against the warmth of his palm, and barely utter out;
“.....Take me home, Mingyu.”
When the room empties of your presence, the rest of them turn to Namjoon for an explanation, for anything, wondering what had happened, wondering why you demanded such actions from him, wondering why you were like that when they walked into the room.
But the leader keeps quiet for some time, for the longest time, as he looks out the window where he sees you carried in Mingyu’s arms and getting taken away into a black car. It is only when the car disappears completely from his sight does he speak.
“She didn’t do it,” he says and they keep silent, waiting for him to keep going. Namjoon turns from the window to face them and stares at the corner where you had sat. “There are a lot of things Y/N does but what she does best…” he looks at Hoseok, “is lie.”
He takes the gun from his back, examining it as the memories of you trying to grab it flashes in his mind.
“I killed him, I killed him, I killed him.” You chanted over and over again.
“Even back then she was the same. That part of her will never change.”
“She didn’t kill Jungwon,” he concludes. “And everything we knew about her…everything we thought we knew…..all of it was a lie.”
the comforts of creatures (2)
↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being
→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader
→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut
→ word count: 3k
→ summary: when you wake up in a strange place, met with softness and warmth instead of the pain you’re used to, a spiral of panic is almost inevitable. and the only ones around to pull you out of it are the seven strange men who brought you here.
→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (including low self-worth/effects of dehumanization, sensory overload), memory loss, mentions/effects of physical/psychological abuse, panic attack, lotta hurt before the comfort :( the boys trying their best
→ a/n: please mind the warnings before reading!! thank you so much for the love and feedback on the first part I really appreciate it!! 💖
previous part ← series masterlist → next part
part 2: seven strangers
At first, there’s only soft warmth.
You’re surrounded by it, cradled in it like a kitten huddled close to the rest of the litter.
For as long as you can remember, warmth has been a stranger. You almost forgot what it felt like. But right now, it somehow feels familiar. Suddenly, warmth is an old friend.
Downy and delightfully drunk with sleep, you breathe out a content sigh and snuggle deeper into whatever is making you feel this way.
It’s so warm here, and comfy too. It makes it easier to ignore the deep ache in your muscles, the pounding in—
A jolt of icy dread hits you. Why are you so warm? Why isn’t your body lying on hard stone? It doesn’t feel right, it’s not right you’re not supposed to feel like this.
Peeling your eyes open with considerable effort, light floods your senses, making you want to shrink back to where it’s dark, back to where you belong.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, you find yourself in a very strange place. Now you see with horror what was keeping you so warm.
The room you’re in is large, walls lined with curtained windows. The center of the room is dominated by a gigantic bed. It’s sunken into the ground, looking more like a huge fluffy pit piled high with blankets and pillows.
But the worst part is...you’re not alone.
Four other bodies are curled up against yours. One of them is pressed to your left side with an arm slung over your torso, head nestled into the crook of your neck. All you can see of him is his tan skin and few wisps of curly black hair.
The body at your right is a similar problem. They’re hugging you close with their legs intertwined with yours. A man’s body, lean yet padded with muscle.
When you look down, you see a head of silvery white hair cushioned on your stomach. And when you shift slightly, you realize that you’re using the person behind you as a pillow.
They’re all holding onto you like you might disappear.
Countless textures, the heat of their skin, the rub of their clothes, the tickling tips of their hair, it all swarms you with increasing pressure. A bombardment of scents fills your nose. Leather, cologne, a hint of tea leaves. Sweat, musk, and something heavy underneath.
It smells like the den of a hibernating animal. A scent that screams this is mine, don’t dare to touch it.
The intermingling smells seem to burn in your nostrils. Too many, so much all at once. There’s too much touching you. Too warm, too soft, too good.
And even though the curtains are drawn, the thin streams of fading sunlight that peek through bring moisture to your eyes.
All of this, on top of that same weighty feeling in your chest. It’s calmer than before, not so desperate and yearning. Still, it burns slow like the embers of a dull fire.
You wrench yourself free from the stifling embrace. Untangling your limbs, you squirm out from under them, half of you trying not to wake them and the other half desperate to escape from the suffocation.
You feel them stir. The man to your left tightens the grip of his arm, but you rip away like their touch burns. In a way, it does.
Stumbling over the mountain of pillows and stuffed animals, you distance yourself from the bed and the strangers in it as much as possible.
Something in your heart aches with the loss, but how can you miss something you don’t deserve?
Instinctively, your back hits the wall and slides along it until you find the nearest corner. Sinking down to the floor, you hug your knees to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut to block out the light.
Where are you?
The struggle to remember the events that brought you here hurts.
Memory has always been a slippery thing. It doesn’t come easy, especially when it’s always been less painful to forget. What memories do come are always fragmented, half-formed.
You can remember certain past emotions, an image here and there, maybe the shadow of a face. But never the events or places attached to them.
That is, all the memories before you were brought to the facility. Because everything that happened there...you remember vividly.
It’s all rushing back to you now. The dark, the cold, the damp. It was all you had to cling to. Why isn’t it here now?
You try again to remember how you got to this strange place, this place where there are light-bearing windows and soft, warm beds to sleep on.
Throbbing pain in your skull, tightness in your throat, but you push through it and reach into the corners of your mind.
Loud. Screaming, footsteps, gunshots. There was a creature, huge and powerful. And there was a man, beautiful but deathly.
They’d stumbled upon your room, but they didn’t hurt you. What were they doing there? And how did you end up here?
The rustle of sheets.
Your head whips up from between your knees, eyes popping open despite the too-bright light.
One of the men is shifting on the bed. It’s the one with the almost white hair. He rolls over with a sleepy groan, reaching out his arms like he’s searching for something.
When he doesn’t seem to find it, his head slowly rises from the mattress.
Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes please.
But they do, just a crack. His head swivels, looking around the room.
Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, for the love of god—
He’s facing you now, shaking strands of pale hair off his face. His eyes are barely open, but you know he sees you.
You know it from the way the feeling in your chest pulses. Panic racing through your veins, breath quickening.
The man yawns and opens his arms in a welcoming gesture, something that puzzles you immensely.
“Come back to bed, babe.”
His voice is bright and sweet, but it still sends a wave of alarm through your body.
It’s a trap, your brain drills over and over. You know you’re not allowed on a bed. He must know it too, he has to. Because you’re dirty and disgusting and wrong. Beds are meant for people, for humans.
You look up to find the man watching you with a strange expression. It’s concern, but you don’t recognize what that looks like.
You tear your eyes away from his, flinching with the realization that you just accidentally made eye contact. Damnit, no no no.
Curling in on yourself further, you wait for the consequences. A slap, a fist to the nose, a hand tight around your throat. Anything that hurts.
But it doesn’t come. Several beats of silence pass, your breathing picking up by the second.
You don’t dare look up again, that always makes it worse.
The man calls out a name. Then again, again, each time increasingly desperate.
The thing in the pit of your heart burns, pulsing painfully every time he says that name.
Why does he keep saying it? You don’t like it, it makes your chest ache.
Too hyper focused on all the overlapping sensations, you don’t notice the man approaching you, panic across his face.
Dropping to his knees, his eyes search your distraught face, ducking his head to try to catch your gaze.
“_____? What’s wrong? Please, tell me what’s wrong, babe,” he says, hands creeping up your arms, giving your shoulders a squeeze to try to ground you.
Immediately, you recoil away from his touch.
It’s too much. The light, the smells, the contact, the pressure inside your rib cage. All you want to do it disappear, shrivel up until you’re even more nothing than you already are.
More voices, different yet all alarmed, sounding faraway and muted in your ears. Your eyes must be closed again, because all you see is soothing darkness.
There are more hands touching you. The muffled voices are getting louder, more piercing.
It all makes your head throb. You wish it would stop, just make it stop please make it fucking stop!
Lungs feeling close to bursting, your ears suddenly perk up at the only string of words your stupid brain can process: a command.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes open, almost involuntarily.
Wide, warm eyes, high cheekbones, dark waves falling over bright skin. A man’s face hovering over you, his expression pinched with distress. Still, when your gaze meets his, a weak yet radiant smile blooms across his face.
“Good, good,” he says softly.
Momentary relief. You release a tight breath, focusing all your senses on the face in front of you, on the voice giving you delicious praise.
But then three more faces crowd your vision. They’re all looking at you so intensely, eyes wide and jaws clenched.
Panic like fireworks. Why are they all looking at you? What did you do?
The realization comes, a stab to the gut. Only one of them allowed you to look at him. And you just made eye contact with all of them.
No no no...It’s coming any second now. The pain.
They’re going to punish you for it, they’re going to hold you down and hurt you until you’re thrashing and screaming.
They know you were on the bed, they have to. They’re going to beat you bloody for it.
You can already taste the iron in your mouth. A violent swell of nausea ripples through your stomach. Can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.
They’re going to hurt you. The pain is coming again, there won’t be anything else.
Your heartbeat is thunder as you frantically scan the room.
The door isn’t far away, and it’s open.
A voice that isn’t your own says one thing in your head:
It’s been a long time since Jimin felt this content. He’s warm, he’s safe, he’s fed, and he’s got your heartbeat against his ear.
They’d made it home relatively unscathed, Jin still carrying you bridal style.
He’d refused to let go of you since you collapsed in his arms. Even when they were safely inside their own wards, even crossing the threshold of the house, he held you close to his chest and waved the maknaes off with a “go clean up” or “go eat something before you pass out.”
He finally surrendered you over to Namjoon to go fry up some meat while the rest of them washed up in the mudroom, knowing they’d be ravenous by the time they finished.
Namjoon managed to bandage your cuts and wipe your face with a wet cloth before Taehyung found him, trailing water droplets behind him, and dragged you into the den where he promptly fell asleep in a pile with the rest of the shifters.
Jin and Namjoon watched them fondly from the doorway, all of them utterly exhausted from the raid and from changing in and out of their full forms.
You were cradled in between Hoseok’s legs, Jungkook pressed to your right, Taehyung to your left, with Jimin resting his head on your stomach.
Namjoon put a hand on Jin’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture says you did good, we’re whole again.
When Jimin wakes up, he can feel the anxiety trembling in the air. The fine, sensitive hairs all over his body twitch with it.
He reaches for you, but you’re not there.
Opening his eyes, he finds you pressed into the corner, shaking.
He’ll never forget the way you looked at him. You’ve never looked so scared, never so much like a cornered animal.
But it’s not until he calls your name and you look at him with no recognition in your eyes that he knows something is very, very wrong.
You flinch away from his touch, sending a pang of hurt through his heart, covering your ears and burying your head between your legs.
Jungkook jolts awake, probably triggered by the stench of your fear. He’s by your side in an instant, quietly whimpering as he presses his nose to what’s left of your hair.
Taehyung and Hoseok follow soon after.
They all try to comfort you with soft touches and calming words, muttering “you’re safe now” and “nothing can hurt you” over and over.
But it’s like you don’t hear them. Or don’t believe it.
You can’t even look at them until Hoseok orders you to. He remembers that Jimin likes following simple orders when he’s overwhelmed, and when it works on you a spark of joy lights in his face.
Something similar lights in your eyes too, but the next second it’s gone. Replaced by more panic, your gaze darts around the room wildly.
Jimin’s teeth clench as he anticipates what’s coming next. He knows the signs of someone about to bolt.
He’s proven right seconds later when you lunge for the door, roughly pushing past them.
They’re all shocked still for a moment. Why would you run from them? They’re supposed to be your safe place, your comfort people. They finally got you back. Shouldn’t you be happy? Why would you run from your own mates?
Jungkook takes off after you, tearfully calling your name. Then Hoseok takes off after Jungkook, worried that he might scare you even more in his emotional state.
Taehyung and Jimin just sit there, deflated. When their eyes meet, they’re both thinking the same thing: helping you feel safe again is going to be a lot harder than they thought.
You can be pretty fast when you want to be, especially when you’re frightened, so you make it all the way down the stairs and into the living room before Jungkook gets to you.
He grabs your shoulders, trying to be as non-threatening as he can, anchoring you to the floor as he tries to meet your eyes.
Twitching violently and nearly hyperventilating, your breath catches when he finally manages to catch your gaze. Only to rip it away again as a strangled noise escapes your throat.
That rare sound that only leaves Jungkook when he’s distressed fills the air. Somewhere between a high-pitched trill and a harsh cry, it seems to echo all throughout the house.
It alerts the remaining hyungs, making their ears perk and their lungs hitch.
They fell that burning in their chest, a sign that one of their mates is in pain. And from the way it singes through their veins, they know that it’s not one of their mates, but several of them.
When Jungkook calls out your name, you break out of his grip and take a few unsteady steps backward, searching for the nearest exit.
By that time, the shifters have made their way into the living room, along with Jin and Namjoon. They all crowd around you, muscles tensing when they feel the air vibrate with your panic.
Whipping around, you realize that you’re surrounded and utterly outnumbered.
They watch as you crumble in on yourself, sinking to the ground again in an effort to shield yourself from an oncoming attack.
A string of jumbled syllables falls from your lips. They have to get closer to realize what you’re saying.
“Please...please,” you mutter. “Please don’t hurt me.”
It breaks their hearts.
Every time one of them touches you, you jerk back and let loose another stream of frenzied pleas.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t run again. Just don’t hurt me, please. I’ll be good I promise just please don’t, don’t...”
Jungkook and Taehyung grasp your shoulders with tears in their eyes, Jimin running a soothing hand up and down your back.
“It’s okay, baby. Really, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. Calm down for me, okay?” Taehyung says softly.
Your breathing slows just a little, maybe from hearing him say that he doesn’t plan on hurting you. Hesitantly, you look up at your surroundings, and the next second you’re thrown into another fit of shaking and begging.
“No no no, please...please,” you blurt out, voice trailing off at the end.
Too many touches, voices, scents. It all swirls in your brain and makes your heart and head thud rapidly. When will it stop, when will it just stop.
Everyone freezes at the calm yet firm voice.
The boys turn towards it while you burrow further into yourself, waiting for a hit or command or insult, whichever comes first.
Yoongi stands at the other end of the room. His head and shoulders are drooped with exhaustion, no doubt still weak after breaking through the layers of wards single-handed.
His eyes are zeroed in on only you, brows furrowed and fists clenched. This is the first time he’s seen you in months. The cuts and old wounds, the scars, your mangled hair, the way your body is shriveled with malnourishment. It all makes his skin crawl with quiet rage.
Yoongi takes step after slow step towards you, and something about his commanding presence keeps you still.
The rest of them step aside to let him pass, holding their breath in anticipation of his next words. He’s always been the most patient, the most level-headed when one of them is having a panic attack.
He drops down to one knee, tilting your chin up with one gentle finger.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he says, masterfully controlling his fury at seeing the state of you so none of it is directed towards you.
Still shaking, you meet his even stare. His own dark eyes soften, darting over the damage visible on your face.
“Tell me,” he begins in that same composed tone. “Who did this to you?”
a/n: thanks so much for reading!! what are your first impressions of the boys? please consider commenting your thoughts if you enjoyed! :)
taglist: @jeepersjiminie @scuzmunkie @anchovyinajar @btsiguess-kpop @btspurplesky @emu007 @goldeneclipsedragon @serendididy @namjoons-bug @angryperfectionpersona @wittyreader @ariavaana @crazy-person @kyrah-williams @leehaechanlee @jinkajous @dolliecat @reallysparklychaos @xmochiloverx @queen-in-the-shadows @astrids-pandora @kapten-xouk
@anonynim @massiekurrb @tito-the-mermaid
You're their little dolly, all tied up.
Warning: 18+ smut, dubcon, noncon, dark yandere, namjoon painting you >;), foodplay & food control, sex toys, overstimulation, spanking, bdsm, predator/prey, petplay, dumbification
Namjoon prefers only your arms tied up, chained to the headboard, and above your head. Your naked body neatly presented to him on top of the covers as you lay sprawled on your stomach, unable to see what he does to you. He likes torturing you with what’s to come next. After a long day of work he moves between your legs, forcing them open. He runs his cock along your folds and pushes into your sex without warning. He like the tightness of your pussy before you're all sloppy and wet for him. He likes stroking the wetness out of you, slowly, with each rough thrust in, until his heavy thrusts become smooth, your grunts of pain becoming cries of pleasure, your cunt becoming tighter again as you hurtle towards release. He pulls out and paints your back with his cum, thick white ribbons against your skin, a beautiful masterpiece he can call his own. He runs his fingers over your spent back, smudging his work across your skin until he is satisfied, until he's rock hard again. Then presses inside you, intent on finishing his art inside. You're his beautiful canvas after all.
Seokjin likes feeding you like this, arms and legs tied to the bed, your helpless body all his to take care of. He likes to put each bite into your open waiting mouth, let his fingers rest on your lips, your teeth, your tongue. If you spill or make a mess he likes to lick it off, trailing his tongue down your body, resting his head on your full belly. You're so hungry you'll do anything for another bite, so thirsty, you'll let the water pass through his lips before you drink. You'll do anything for him. You'll let Seokjin eat you, let him nibble on your thighs, lick over your folds, let his teeth graze your clit, fingers drawing out your sweet nectar so he can feast on you. He prefers to ravage your cunt until your legs are shaking, begging for reprieve, and then he'll unbelt his pants and offer you dessert.
Yoongi likes when you're all tied up. Arms and legs tied to each bed post, unable to shy away from his intense gaze. That way, he can use whatever toys he likes. He lets cold lube drop all over your core, using his nimble fingers to press the liquid inside your holes. He prefers to plug your ass, but tonight he plans to keep you up all night full and aching. He takes a thick dildo, pushing it in slowly, inch by inch, stretching your hole over the slippery silicone. He uses his fingers to tease you, pressing in and out of your cunt in a languid pace, pulling the dildo out in a matching motion. He does this until your pulling at your restraints, begging to cum. Then he fills your cunt with a vibrator, placing it on the highest setting and takes a seat. He pumps himself to your writhing body, enjoying the show. He can relax while you fight off another impending orgasm, tiring yourself out on the battery operated toy. Yoongi doesn't have to do anything but watch you reach another high, shaking and pulling at your bindings, the vibrator pumping deep into you at an unrelenting steady rate. You're going to cum again and again, unable to pull the toy out, unable to do anything but take the pleasure Yoongi has all set up for you.
Hoseok likes your ties loose, to give you a little hope for your escape. He likes the chase, but you never do get away, you end up on your knees or skull pressed into the floor as he fucks your throat roughly, your legs scraping on the hard ground. You gag around him, throat tightening against his cock in the best way, he has to release you, but you're too riled up to leave now. The chase might have ended, but his reward was still waiting, heaving in air, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping. He takes his time claiming you, tongue exploring your mouth, fingers deep in your sex, hand tight around your throat. All you can hope for now is to come, all you can think of is his tight grip on you, inside and out.
Jimin likes it when you beg for him instead, cry out for him to fuck you. He likes you tied with your arms behind your back, intricate ropes around your torso so he can move you where ever he likes. He flips your body on your stomach and puts his knees on top of each of your legs, spreading them wide when he opens his own, training you to meet his flexibility. He puts two thick digits inside your cunt, and instead of letting you feel the pleasure of his skillful seduction, his free hand comes down against your cheeks. His spanks are hard and swift, a painful contrast to his sweet teasing voice, whining out for you to take one more hit. He spanks you until your cheeks are swollen, his handprints raised and purple all over your skin. You whimper and he doesn't stop, you cry and he doesn't stop, you scream, your backside stinging, his knees digging into your legs and his digits pressed to the knuckle in your dripping cunt. You whine for him to fuck you instead, you cry for his cock, you tell him how much you want him inside you, please please! He laughs, sweet and mocking, and fucks you full, until you're crying out his name, yes yes!
Taehyung likes your wrists tied, blindfolded, in a cute lingerie set and stockings, a gag in your mouth and a collar around your pretty neck. Delicate things he can rip off of you until you are lying there naked and stripped. Then he places you over his lap so you can straddle him, work for your sight and speech. He likes watching you ride him, dragging yourself over his cock up and down, breathing heavily against your gag and shifting clumsily in your restraints. He'll praise you and tell you how good you are being for him, pulling your collar down so he can thrusts his hips up into your sloppy center. He will switch positions, placing you on your side, lifting one leg up over his shoulder so he can thrust in deep. He holds you by your collar, rocking into you so hard you see stars bloom in the darkness behind the blindfold, his good little pet.
Jungkook likes when you're full of all the members' cum. Slippery and drenched, smelling of sex, body spent. Then he can finally untie you, as you're too tired to fight back even if you wanted to. You lie, half asleep, mind still gone. You cuddle into the warmth of his body as he places soft kisses against your sweaty skin, body and mind too numb with pleasure to realize the way he's stretching you out over his fingers, pushing his members' cum back inside of you. "I'll take care of you," he says, so sweetly. He loves the way his cock simply slips right into your heat, the squelching dirty noises your body gives as he ruts into you, thrusting as hard as he likes. You take it with a sigh, a soft moan. He can pull your hair, bite your neck, suck as many bruises along your shoulder and breasts as he likes, you just moan and take it all like the sweet little doll he loves.
YA'ABURNEE MASTERPOST - HYBRID! BTS X HUMAN DETECTIVE F! READER
click if you would like to read the wattpad version.
back to masterlist
summary: after being inadvertently recruited as a former ex-criminal by your home's Oahu special task force three years ago, a particular case that sets your blood boiling causes you and your team to devise an infiltration plan that sends you all across the globe to south korea. however, halfway through your mission, you were injured and separated from your team, leaving you in a dense forest with unforeseen company.
genre: hybrid | angst | fluff | romance | action | crime
pairing: hybrid bts ot7 × human officer reader (mackenzie valley wolf! namjoon, giant cheetah! jin, snow leopard! yoongi, wolverine! hoseok, kodiak bear! taehyung, maned wolf! jimin, golden jackal! jungkook)
sneak peek | pt. 1 [ number of parts tbd ]
Pairing: Frat boy! Namjoon x chubby college! Reader (poly ot7 x reader alluded to)
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, smut
Rating: 18+ only
Warnings: Hurt feelings bc of a professor, chubby reader insecurities, reader talks poorly about herself briefly, imposter syndrome feelings, day drinking to cope with emotions, explicit sexual content, Daddy Dom!Namjoon, sub!Reader, over use of the word Daddy, fingering, marking, cockwarming, dumbification if you squint, finger sucking?, talks of punishment, allusions of a d/s relationship
Word count: 1.9k
Note: so this is part of a larger series that’s all about positive BDSM relationships and kink exploration. So keep in mind that all aspects of a healthy D/s relationship are assumed to have taken place previously, ie: limits, safe words, etc. Their relationship will potentially be shown later depending on if anyone likes this and wants to see more. Also this is largely unedited so I’m sorry if there are mistakes. I also don’t love the end but I can’t make myself write more to this.
Thank you @eureka-its-zico for helping me edit this and alway reading the random stuff that comes out of my brain.
She sighed, dropping her bag on the floor, making a bee-line for the kitchen. She figured no one would be home, and by the time someone did come home, she would be wasted. She picked a half-empty bottle of tequila off the counter, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.
“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Namjoon’s deep voice stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes slid over to his form, sprawled out on the couch lazily watching her. “Is my girl skipping class to drink all by herself?”
She pouted, walking over to him before plopping herself in his lap, not bothering to discard the tequila bottle as she slotted her knees over his hips. She normally wasn’t so bold as to put all her weight onto any of them, still conscious of her size despite their many, and repeated, protests. His giant hands reached out to take hold of her, kneading into her plush thighs. “No, I didn’t have class today because we had individual evaluations,” she mumbled, taking another shot as the tears welled in her eyes.
Namjoon frowned at her, wiping away a stray tear that she didn’t realize had escaped, “Oh baby girl,” he sighed, taking the bottle out of her hand before crushing her into his chest. She couldn’t hold it in anymore; she let the tears fall from her eyes as he rubbed her back gently, whispering softly in her ear as he held her.
“I just feel so stupid, Joonie,” she whimpered, burying her face in his shirt, her arms wrapped around him.
“Baby you’re not stupid,” he cooed, kissing the side of her head, “I don’t date stupid girls. And you’re my only girl,” he teased gently, making her pout at him.
“You didn’t hear what he said,” she mumbled sadly into his shoulder.
“What did he say to you baby,” Namjoon asked gently, his hand threading into her hair as he held the back of her head. She closed her eyes, releasing the tension in her shoulders, already feeling more calm. Namjoon had that effect on her, he always had. He seemed to know when she needed to be held, and his embrace was a solace for her. “Come on now baby, I know you’re a lightweight but you’re not about to pretend two sips of tequila can take you out.”
“It’s not the tequila, Joonie,” she sighed, nuzzling into his neck, “You know my brain goes a little fuzzy when you hold me like this. It makes me feel safe.”
He laughed, his lips dropping to the top of her head before pulling her tighter to his chest, “That’s because you’re my love, and you’ll always be safe with me,” he said seriously, “Now tell me what your professor said to you, baby.”
“He told me that I should never have been let into the program because I’m not good enough and implied that I stole the spot from someone more deserving,” she recounted sadly. She had felt extra confident walking to class that morning with Jungkook by her side — she had been so sure her professor would have some positive feedback for her final project that she'd even worn the cute, but short, dress Jin had put in her closet the week before. But the meeting had undercut any confidence she’d been building.
Namjoon’s body went rigid under hers, the shame from her professor’s words cutting through her like a knife as she sunk back into herself. Maybe her professor was right and Namjoon just didn’t know how to tell her he agreed. What if everyone agreed but hadn’t said anything to her to spare her feelings? Shame rose in her chest like bile and she tried to push herself off of Namjoon’s lap, but she was caught by his strong arms easily.
“Baby girl, tell me what’s happening in your head right now,” he demanded, his voice dropping an octave in the way he only did when he was slipping into a dominant headspace, or when he was angry.
“Do you think he’s right?” She whispered, earning a sharp inhale from Namjoon.
“I can’t understand why anyone would say something so disgustingly false to you,” he spat out through ground teeth, tugging the hair at the back of her head firmly to tilt her head backwards. The rage burning in his eyes made her stomach flip, a small gasp flying out of her mouth at his sudden aggression. “No one should talk to you like that. You’re fucking amazing, and smart, and talented, and the fact that he suggested that you were anything less, is not only ridiculous, but stupid.”
“I really appreciate you saying that, but he’s my professor and his opinion of me is really important, Joonie—“ she sighed, but was cut off by another firm tug on her hair and the soft moan that followed.
“Do you think that I would lie to you, baby girl,” he smiled darkly as her eyes rolled back, “Do you think that low of me?”
“No, daddy,” she pouted, making him hum in approval, “But you tell me to be a good girl and respect my professors, even if I don’t like them.”
“You’re right, sweet girl,” he smiled softly, releasing her hair before both of his hands wrapped around her thighs tightly. “But I don’t like this professor of yours very much. And I doubt anyone else will appreciate what he had to say about our perfect girl either.”
“But what if he’s right, daddy?” She sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands, “I’m not as smart or talented or driven as the rest of you,” she mumbled sadly.
“Nope, none of that. What’s rule number two?” Namjoon asked seriously, catching her chin between his fingers and tilting her head up.
“I’m not allowed to talk badly about myself,” she mumbled, staring into his eyes.
“That’s right,” He nodded, “Now hold onto me,” he instructed before propelling himself off the couch, keeping her pressed tightly to him as he headed up the stairs to his bedroom.
“Namjoon! Put me down! I’m too—“
“If you say one more negative thing about yourself today, baby girl, I’ll tell Yoongi and I’ll let him decide what your punishment is, you got that?” He said
Her arms wrapped around his neck tightly, “Am I being punished right now?” She whispered into his neck, almost afraid of what the answer was going to be.
“No baby,” he said kicking his bedroom door closed with his heel before settling against his headboard, not letting her move off his lap. “You need to remember how important you are, and how loved you are. I can see you doubting yourself, and me, so we’re going to try something.”
She nodded, grateful that he was able to understand her as intimately as he did. One look and he knew how vulnerable she was, and she trusted him to take care of her needs. His plush lips met hers firmly, making her melt further into his embrace. There was something about the way he kissed her that rendered her brain useless. Her hips started rocking against him of their own volition, his hard length dragging against her core.
She almost didn’t realize his hands were already under her dress until she heard a loud rip, a small gasp flying out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, baby, I’ll buy you a new pair, but I’m not letting you out of my arms,” he shrugged, a finger sinking into her heat. She whined loudly at the intrusion, her hands finding purchase in his wheat coloured hair. She’d helped him choose the colour after he lost a bet against Hoseok. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He asked sweetly, making her cheeks flush.
“I always try to be good for you,” she sighed. Namjoon’s hands always made her feel good, giving her more pleasure than pain, and rarely teasing her. Those giant hands of his — the ones everyone else said were the cause of destruction — were only used to destroy her sanity when they were on her body. His long, thick fingers could reach spots she could only dream of, and always managed to remain gentle, even in the most heated moments.
“You’re such a good girl, baby,” he smiled tenderly, removing his finger from her entrance. But before she could protest, his tip was at her entrance, making her eyes roll back. “That’s it, just take my cock nice and slow, baby girl,” he said encouragingly, holding her hips in his hands. He inched himself inside her, painstakingly slow as she whined and shuddered against him, “You’re doing so good,” he whispered into her hair, voice low and raspy.
“Daddy,” she keened desperately, burying her face in his neck as she showered the exposed golden skin in affection, leaving a collection of hickeys across his chest. “Please, don’t tease me,” she whispered before he bottomed out, dragging a breathy moan from her.
He chuckled softly, trailing his fingers up and down her back to calm her, “I’m not going to fuck you into the mattress like I know you want me to,” he grinned, but her mind had gone blank. All she could focus on was how full she felt; it wasn’t an entirely new sensation, but it was usually accompanied by him pounding into her like he had a point to prove. Namjoon was huge everywhere, and he’d always made her feel deliriously fucked out whenever they were together but now, just sitting with him inside her made her realize how entirely consuming he could be when he wanted to be. She felt like she was floating, only half in reality as he settled her weight against him as he saw fit.
She was almost dizzy at the sensation, her words slurring as he held her hips against his with one arm, “Fuck, daddy, ‘m so full,” she mumbled, her hands shaking as she clung to him, eyes trying to focus on his face.
She could see his proud smile, “My perfect little girl, so full she can’t focus,” he hummed happily. Her eyes rolled back as he pulled her almost impossibly closer, changing the angle as her face came to rest against his chest, cradling the back of her head in his hand.
If her mind hadn’t been blank before, it was now. The gentle lull of his heartbeat in her ear, combined with the mind numbing fullness, and the comfort and security of Namjoon’s embrace had her nodding dumbly.
“We’re gonna sit like this until everyone else comes home, and then we are going to remind you how perfect you are,” he explained, getting a slow nod in return. She was struggling to stay coherent, and he knew it. “God, you look so good like this baby, so perfect. Your eyes are all glassy and your cheeks are flushed,” he smiled, lifting one of his fingers to her lips to trace over the curve of her Cupid’s bow.
She gazed up at him through her eyelashes, taking the pad of his finger into her mouth, “Thank you daddy,” she mumbled, not bothering to remove his finger from her lips.
A low hum emanated from Namjoon’s chest as he stared down at her lovingly. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, the security of unconsciousness threatening to pull her under. “Daddy’s got you, baby girl,” he cooed softly, “Just rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Tagging @bibbykins @walkxthexmoon @blushingatyou @smasmashie for telling me to post this 🥴 sorry it’s like a week later than I said
Feels Like Home - OT7
summary: Emotional Support Werewolves. You never thought you’d hear those words in the same sentence. As a beta yourself, it should be insulting. It would be if it weren’t for the fact the Bangtan pack provides these services to other werewolves separated from their packs. Your refusal to take advantage of such services only lasts until one difficult night in particular, where being separated from your parents’ pack is too hard to handle on your own. Who knew your roommate’s insistence would eventually win you over?
pairing(s): ot7 x f!reader, ot7 x ot7, ot7 x original characters
genre: written fic with some smau chapters, Werewolf AU, college AU, ABO verse, fluff, (some) angst, eventual romance, comedy
rating: pg13 (probably with explicit drabbles/extras)
warnings: Some swearing. The mc will also be struggling with her sexuality in this one and will fall within the asexual spectrum. Terms may be used in this story that don’t make sense to readers, but I will always explain them in context. Due to this being a learning experience for the mc, there will be lots of talk about the way she feels, how it differs from other people, etc. This story will greatly center around fluff and affection that borders on romantic, but is rarely ever sexual. I don’t foresee this story needing many warnings, but if anything comes up I will add more here and to each chapter. I have a loose plotline, but this is a story I’m mostly making up as I go. That’s a warning in itself lmao. I hope you enjoy the crazy ride with me!
❗️photos used in this story are not mine❗️
status: ongoing ♾
schedule: none at the moment
permanent taglist (open): @yoongiofmine @xianav @lilacdreams-00 @vantxx95 @emmmui @cursedblood707 @hqtetsurou @geauxlsu79 @lyra0cassiopeia @halesandy @lunaoceanchild @annoyingtimemachinee @babycoffeefire @darlinggod-sweetvillain @yu-justme @rageyoudamnednerd @bubblytaetae @aurel1ia @valhallawhispers @somelazysundays @cuteipat @borahae-reads @dahliasbouqet @funkylittlebisexuall @wrmnssoul @saweetspoiled @infatuatedghost @black-rose-29 @hopeoncrackkk @atinymonbebestay @nabiolive @bands-r-my-heros @idontevenknow75 @m4gg13-g @yoongiigolden @velvetskize @mintsugarmy @moonacholy @toughbook
series taglist (open): see this sheet for the most updated list
This story is being cross-posted to AO3.
Social profiles 📱
Chapter 1 📱
Chapter 5 📱
Chapter 7 📱
— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader
— word count: 10.7k
— warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, mention of drugging, dissociation
— summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.
— amazing cover by @leithold!
Previous - Next
You wake up to a dull headache pulsing at the back of your skull. Groaning, you push yourself up on one elbow, the world around you spinning as you force your lashes to part. You peer over at your bedside table through bleary eyes, squinting as you try to make out the blurry shapes on top of it. The books you bought months ago and never read are still there, but there’s something sitting slumped over next to them, something you swear wasn’t there yesterday.
Unease spikes in the pit of your stomach as you shift your weight, your normally sturdy bed frame letting out an odd creak as you reach out for it. The rough texture of the worn down wool is unmistakable as you pick it up, Mr. Bear’s well-loved features coming into view as you bring the teddy bear closer to your face. You let out a small excited gasp at the sight of your childhood friend, wincing as the action makes your head throb even more. Clutching Mr. Bear to your chest, you close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to gather your bearings. Something about this doesn’t feel right. Waking up as never left you this horribly disoriented before, this confused. When did you go to bed last night? How did you even get into bed? You can’t remember anything.
You run a finger over Mr. Bear’s back, stilling as the reality slowly begins to seep back in through the cracks in your memory. Mr. Bear has been missing for weeks. You turned your apartment over five times trying to find him, even going as far as rummaging through the building’s trash to make sure you didn’t accidentally throw him out. He was gone. There’s no way he would suddenly just reappear by himself.
You sit up further, eyes still shut as you push your back into the pillows behind you. Everything is wrong. The sheets brushing against your skin are too soft, yours have been washed so much that no amount of fabric softener can save them. The mattress underneath you is thick, but not thick enough to cover the noisy metal springs that squeak whenever you move around. Your bed has never made a noise before – not to mention it’s made of wood. Your room shouldn’t be this bright either, no direct sunlight has ever entered through your bedroom window, the next-door building too tall. You let out a soft whimper as the realization hits you, muffling the sound by pressing Mr. Bear to your mouth.
You’re not at home.
You snap your eyes open, stomach rolling dangerously from how the pounding in your head only worsens with the bright light. You ignore it, frantic eyes bouncing around the room as you try to take it all in. Your white walls and light wooden floors have been replaced with a dark timbre, the material flowing seamlessly from top to bottom of the room. The furniture in the room is sparse, but someone has obviously tried to mimic how your bedroom looks, with how everything is placed nearly identical to how you have it at home. Just like how your books are resting on the bedside table next to you, you find more of your belongings scattered around the room. The hoodie you had thrown carelessly on your desk has been folded neatly on the old table made to replace it. A few of your potted plants have been stolen from your windowsill and placed on a cardboard box in hopes to imitate the position of where they normally would be. This is very clearly not your apartment, but a dingy room made to look like it.
You yank your hand away from your chest, squinting down at Mr. Bear. You didn’t misplace him; he didn’t just disappear – no, someone broke into your apartment to take him, knowing how much he means to you. It probably wasn’t the first time they did it either, not if they know the layout of your room this well.
You whimper, shivers racking your body as you push the sheets away. You have no idea how you ended up here, hell, you have no clue where you even are – but you know it’s not safe. No sane person would try to copy your room in an attempt to, what … soothe you? scare you? Either way, you’d rather not find out.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, pausing with one foot on the ground as bile suddenly travels up your throat. You know something is wrong with your body, that you probably need to rest to let whatever it is pass through, but you can’t stay here. You press your forehead to the mattress, breathing slow and steady as you try to settle the violent lurches in your stomach.
You do find some minuscule comfort in the fact that you’re still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the same outfit you had on to meet the guys–
A shuddering gasp passes through your lips, your chest constricting with fear as it all comes rushing back to you at once. The letters, the confessions, the terrifying fact that your stalkers, plural, are also your soulmates. The last thing you remember is feeling woozy, the room spinning in circles as seven figures closed in on you. You can recall being moved, being pressed against something warm, someone arguing about a cabin – about you.
You were drugged. Kidnapped.
Your worst nightmare has come true.
Hot tears spring to your eyes, nails digging into the sheets as you force your shaking arms to push your body up. You bite your cheek, blurry vision locked on to the only source of warmth shining into the room. You have to get to that window. You have to run.
You stagger out of bed, lightheaded, from the effort it takes to keep yourself standing. Your legs are shaking so badly you swear you can hear your bones rattle. You only manage one, two steps, before they give out, and you crumble. You crash to the floor with a loud thud, knees colliding painfully with the cold floor. The impact makes you hiss, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek from how uncooperative your body is being. You have no doubt that it's the lingering drugs in your system that’s causing you to shut down, your mind so shaken with panic and fear that everything has gone numb.
The door flies open, colliding harshly with the wall as as two sets of footsteps rush over to you. You can only stare forlornly down at the floor, your body unresponsive as someone gathers you into their arms.
“Darling, are you okay?” Namjoon’s pinched expression comes into view as he lifts you up. He cradles you carefully to his chest, one arm supporting your back while the other curls under your bruised knees. Your mind is screaming at you to push, fight, do anything at all to get away from his touch, but you can only manage to turn your neck; your heavy head slumping helplessly against his chest.
“What happened?” Yoongi asks, upset, as he steps into view. He tenderly touches your knee, the corner of his mouth sagging as he feels a jolt of pain mirrored in his own legs. Yoongi pulls back when you wince, hands hovering as if he’s holding himself back from checking for further injuries.
“You should place her back on the bed, Namjoon-ah.” Yoongi sighs as he realizes you’re not going to give them an answer, your lips pressed into a thin line.
Namjoon nods, turning around. The distance you managed to put between yourself and the bed is so short that he barely needs to take a step before the mattress squeaks under your weight. His face dips close as he gently places you back where you started, dark eyes looking troubled from how limp you felt in his arms. The sudden proximity makes you squeeze your eyes shut, trying your best to hold off the pathetic cries bubbling up your throat.
Namjoon grabs the sheets from the bottom of the bed, pulling them back up to cover your body. The few minutes that have passed since you kicked them off has managed to chill you significantly, the cabin obviously not made to house anyone past the end of summer. Namjoon begins to tuck you in, making sure the sheets are flush to your body so that none of your body heat can escape. You swallow thickly as his hands move along your body above the sheets, the feeling of his fingers following the curve of your hips giving you a burst of nervous energy. The temporary mobility in your limbs allows you to scramble back on the bed until you're flush with the wall. You bring the sheets up to your chest, eyes wide and fearful as you hoarsely whisper, ”Please, don’t.”
The flash of hurt in Namjoon’s eyes is overtaken by concern as you go a little green in the face. You regret speaking as soon as the words leave your mouth, bile rushing up your dry throat. You bring your hand up to your lips, gagging, as you attempt to keep it down. You can’t throw up. You have no idea what will anger them, what will tick them off - but you have faint idea that being vomited on probably won’t work in your favour.
“Are you feeling sick, darling?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows knitting together as he observes how weak you truly look. You give him a slight nod, too scared to open your mouth.
“Hyung, can you find something that’ll help soothe Y/n’s stomach? I’m sure I should have something in my bag.”
Namjoon speaks softly, much like Seokjin did when he was trying not to spook you, as he sinks down on the bed by your curled up legs, eyes never straying from yours. Yoongi lets out an affirmative noise at the request, shooting you another worried look before he leaves the room to grab what Namjoon asked for.
“I’m sorry you feel bad, darling, it appears that Hoseok gave you a bit of a higher dose than he was supposed to.” There’s a bite to Namjoon’s voice as he utters Hoseok’s name, nostrils flaring with agitation at your current condition. You hug your legs tighter to your body, shrinking under Namjoon’s gaze even though you’re aware his anger isn’t directed at you. You just have to make yourself small, small, small, just enough to survive until you feel more in control of your body.
Namjoon looks away, jaw tensing as he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He looks decidedly less put together compared to the first time you saw him, hair mussed and glasses nowhere to be found. He rubs the bridge of his nose, collecting himself for a moment before he turns his attention back to you, the displeasure erased from his features. Namjoon scoots closer, ignoring how you flinch away from his touch as he reaches out to run his thumb along the dark circles underneath your eyes. His fingers are warm, almost soothing, as he maps out the delicate skin.
“Darling, you look exhausted.” Namjoon tuts. ”Have you not been taking proper care of yourself lately? What did you doctor say during your check-up?”
You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to scoff at his misplaced concern. You temper your voice, all too aware of your predicament as you grit out a quiet, ”You know why I’m tired – I haven’t been sleeping properly for months because I’ve had seven people stalking me. It’s not exactly a good situation to be in. There’s no need for me to see a doctor, so I never went.”
Namjoon pauses, sitting unnervingly still for a second as he seems to process what you told him. He slowly nods, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek before he removes his hand, letting it drop back into his lap.
“Darling–” Namjoon sounds so disappointed it makes your stomach do another dangerous lurch.
“Y/n. You have to look after yourself. I know things haven’t been … easy, lately, but that doesn’t excuse disregarding your own health and wellbeing. You’re too precious for that. I wanted to give you a chance to do it yourself, but since you don’t seem to understand the importance of it right now, I’ll take over until you’re feeling better. Don’t you worry, darling, I’ll take good care of you.”
Don’t worry? How can you not worry when the person offering, no, demanding to look after you like you’re a child, is the same man who has been stalking you for almost a year?
Your breath is knocked out of your chest as another intense wave of anxiety and distress crashes over you. There’s a faint ringing in your ears, your headache pulsing at the bottom of your skull. It’s too much, your vision growing dark at the edges, and then–
You release a shuddering breath; the raging waves suddenly turning quiet, calm. You stare at Namjoon in slight disbelief, blinking, as you find that the only emotion you can muster up is, well, nothing. You clutch the sheets tighter to your chest, knowing you should be alarmed at the numbness that has settled in your body, but there’s nothing there. You can see Namjoon in front of you, feel the lingering warmth of his touch on your skin, but it’s like your mind has momentarily checked out, like you’re experiencing everything through someone else.
Though, even with your emotions temporarily unavailable, you’re still aware of the fact that you need to thread carefully with what you say. You don’t want to anger Namjoon by going against his demands, but you refuse to agree to them. Your best bet is to try to divert the conversation while hopefully still getting something useful out of it.
You press yourself closer to the wall, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze as you weakly say, ”How did you even get access to my doctor? Shouldn’t that be confidential?”
“Oh, that! My position at the library gives me access to the city’s archive.” Namjoon proudly explains, his chest puffing out.
”You used your full name and date of birth when you signed up for a library card, and that’s really all you need to pull up someone’s file. The archive contains your basic information like your address, family relations, and any healthcare clinics you might be connected to, and so on. It had all the details I needed in order to look out for you.”
What the fuck? How is that safe?
You can see Namjoon’s smile falter out of the corner of your eye, the same realization dawning on him simultaneously. ”Come to think of it, it was a little too easy to access it as long as you’re employed by the city. That won’t do, who knows what kind of person will take advantage of your information being so readily available? I should really give them a call to get them to update their protocols.” Namjoon mutters something else under his breath, something about security and Taehyung that you can’t quite make out.
You look over to the window on the opposite side of the room, the trees here having yet to change their colours and shed their coats. The deep green leaves moving in and out of view leave a sour taste in your mouth, the color all too reminiscent of the letters Namjoon has been plaguing you with. And as you’ve recently come to learn, you haven’t been only one receiving them.
“Right.” You swallow, throat dry. “Is that how you found my family?”
Namjoon brightens at the mention of your parents. ”Did your mom like the flowers I sent? I made sure to get her favourites!” The way he wrings his hands together in his lap almost strikes you as shyness, like he’s genuinely worried that she might not.
She did like them, but you’re not going to give Namjoon the satisfaction of knowing that. In fact, cruel as it might sound, you hope the uncertainty will eat away at him whenever he thinks about it. After everything they’ve put you through, they deserve to suffer in any way they can, no matter how miniscule.
Namjoon’s hopeful expression crumbles when you remain silent, a soft sigh leaving his lips. ”Y/n. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but everything I know about your parents is information they have posted themselves. You know your mother has a very strong social media presence; she treats her account like a diary. She posted about her promotion and how much she’s been missing you. I thought it would make you happy that your mom felt loved and seen by you with a congratulatory bouquet. You haven’t been home in months, darling. I don’t want you to lose your relationship with your parents.”
You don’t want that either. You never wanted to shut out your parents from your life. Namjoon and the others decided that for you, and yet he has the nerve to act concerned? You only did it to keep them safe, alive, in fear of never knowing what your stalker was capable of doing. Despite your groggy memories you can clearly remember how easily Hoseok admitted to being willing to murder someone to get his way. You did the right thing. Not knowing what they’ve been up to has been slowly crushing you, and now, you have no idea when you’ll get to talk to them again.
The hollow feeling in your chest cracks, just enough for a small trickle of self-pity and sadness to fill the space around your heart. The first tear slips down your cheek before you’re even fully aware that you’re crying.
Namjoon makes a shocked noise, shuffling closer on the bed as you sniffle. ”Darling, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I promise I’ll take care of everything.”
He reaches out for you, hands cupped as if he’s going to caress your cheeks and wipe away the tears before they can fall. You jerk back so hard you see stars as your head smacks into the wall behind you, hands shooting out to stop Namjoon from getting any closer. ”Don’t touch me.” You hiccup, vision blurry as it burns with more tears.
Namjoon’s movements stutter from the unexpected flare of pain, hesitant eyes growing even more worried. You can tell he’s struggling to abide, fingers flexing like it’s paining him to hold back from checking up on you. You slowly bring your arms back to your chest as he leans back. Namjoon’s shoulders are hunched as he looks down at his hands, lips twisted into something sad.
You quickly wipe your tears as the half-shut door creaks back open, watching Yoongi cautiously as he returns with a small tray in his hands. He pauses by Namjoon’s side, eyes flickering between your red-rimmed eyes and the heartbroken expression on his friend’s face. He lets out a soft sigh, grabbing the cup he was carrying before handing the tray over to Namjoon.
”I found the medicinal herb you were talking about. It was really thoughtful of you to bring it, Namjoon-ah, I’m sure Y/n will feel better once she drinks it. Why don’t you go out and help Jimin for a bit, hm?”
“Sure, hyung.” Namjoon says, conflicted eyes gliding back to your small form before he pushes himself off the bed. Yoongi gives Namjoon's hand a comforting squeeze before he exits the room, closing the door behind him.
Yoongi places the cup on the small table besides your bed, taking care to move your books out of the way. You eye the murky drink warily, not quite managing to suppress your scoff as you say, ”I’m not going to drink that.”
Yoongi’s feline eyes watch you intently for a moment. He hums as he picks the cup back up, blowing on the surface to cool it down before he takes a sip. You can see his throat bob as he swallows the tea, lips glossy as he lowers it from his mouth. ”See, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
You grimace as your queasy stomach acts up just as you’re about to refuse the drink, eyes fluttering with discomfort. Yoongi takes the chance to quickly manoeuvre the cup into your hands before you can tell him off, the warm porcelain a welcome source of heat in the otherwise chilly room.
You tense, unprepared, as Yoongi lightly pats your hair, slender fingers gliding back to cup the back of your head. There’s a brief pressure where you hit your head but the touch is gone before you can shake him off. Yoongi pulls back, seemingly satisfied that you’re not really hurt aside from the initial flash of pain.
“Everything will be alright once you start feeling better, love. You’re safe here with us.” Yoongi promises.
You shake your head, staring down at the small bits of leaves and spices floating around in your tea. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to be careful, but what’s the use if they’ve never going to let you go? If they’re going to keep you trapped here for the foreseeable future, then you might as well make sure they know how upset and angry you are with them. Even if they hurt you, you can always find some wicked sense of comfort in the fact that they’ll hurt themselves in the process as well.
“I don’t know you. I don’t want to be here. All of you have lied to me for weeks, months. There’s nothing real about this … relationship.” You bite.
“That’s not true, Y/n.” Yoongi protests.
You glance up at him, levelling him with a cold glare. "Do you even work as an accountant?”
Yoongi opens his mouth, thinks, and then closes it again. He looks around the room, the grain in the wood above your head suddenly very interesting as he avoids you gaze. Yoongi awkwardly scratches his neck, fluffing up the hair there before he eventually admits, ”No, I do not.”
“I work as a producer, actually. That’s why I’ve been sending you lyrics – I’ve always been better at conveying my feelings through music. My studio is close to Filter, that’s how we ended up at the shop the day we realized you’re our soulmate. I wanted to tell you my real job when we met at the park, but Taehyung said it was too obvious. That you might suspect us too soon.”
Speak of the devil, and he’ll open the door.
Taehyung peeks into the room, slipping in through the open crack with a sheepish smile. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been standing outside the whole time, just waiting for the perfect time to announce his presence. You clutch the cup closer to your body as Taehyung strides up to your bed, the images of blood drenched roses and serial killer-esque postcards flashing through your mind. You’ve learned through the past year that Taehyung has a short fuse, and when you disobey him, it gets messy.
Yoongi rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s impatience, stepping aside to give the younger more room.
Taehyung takes a seat by your side, taking up the same spot Namjoon left vacant.
His shoulders slump as he sees the tenseness in your muscles, how you can barely look him in the eye as he tries to seek out your gaze. ”Why are you scared, babe? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You gave me a bucket of blood, I’m sorry if that’s a bit hard to believe.” You whimper.
You flinch back, regretting your words as Taehyung suddenly raises his hand. Your eyes are halfway shut, preparing for impact, when you realize his intention was only to ruffle his fingers through his long bangs.Taehyung’s expression fills with hurt as he takes in the way you try to cower away from him. He looks like a kicked puppy when he connects the dots, his face somehow reminiscent of Yeontan as he curls in on himself. You swallow thickly, the tension in the room closing in on you the longer all of you stay silent.
You take a sip of the tea in your hands, mustering up all the courage you have as you tentatively try to steer the conversation elsewhere. ”That day in the park, it wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
Taehyung shakes his head, hands folded in his lap. ”Tannie is too well-trained to run off on his own. We wanted an excuse to finally meet you, talk to you, and no one can resist a cute puppy.”
“How did you know I would be there?” You’re honestly a little afraid to ask. You feel like the last bubbles of your imagined safety are going to pop the moment Taehyung opens his mouth.
Taehyung shares a look with Yoongi, the elder giving him a half-hearted shrug. Taehyung rubs his face, voice muffled behind his hand as he says, ”We knew you would be there because you called your friend Heejun during your lunch break.”
Unwanted memories of the last postcard you received spring forth in your mind. How the pictures Taehyung used were from your hidden folders, how no one except for you should’ve had access to them. How Taehyung admittedto working in tech the day you first met face to face. You don’t think he lied to you; he never had a reason to.
“Did you hack my phone?”
Taehyung tilts his head, giving you a faint, apologetic smile. ”I prefer to say that I tapped your phone.”
You take a deep breath, the confession rattling your lungs. Your voice is faint to your own ears as you murmur, “How long?”
“It’s been a while. Ten months to be exact.”
In other words, almost the entire time he’s been stalking you. You shudder to think what he’s seen, what he couldhave seen – but most of all; there’s just something so violating knowing that Taehyung has been keeping tabs of everything. Every text, every call.. He must’ve known where you were at almost any given moment. You’ve truly been in more danger this past year than you could’ve ever imagined.
Yoongi rolls his shoulders, the corner of his mouth pinched as he turns to walk over to the grimy window. He doesn’t seem particularly happy with Taehyung’s admission. You watch his profile as he studies the trees through the glass, how his dark hair curls gently along the curve of his cheek. You get that nagging feeling again, the same one that bothered you the first time you met. You’ve seen him somewhere that wasn’t Filter, somewhere where the streetlights never illuminated his features as well as the soft sunlight does now.
The man and the dog.
It must’ve been Yoongi and Yeontan all along. It’s no wonder he felt familiar when you first met, not when you’ve seen him countless times in the same park after almost every Thursday class. You never really took the time to study them, too eager to get away from the dark trees and back home to the safety of your apartment, but you knowit’s them. It must be. That’s how Taehyung figured out where you wanted to travel before he tapped your phone, because Yoongi was always close by, walking along the same path overhearing you talk to Heejun. And when Taehyung hacked your phone, he could let Yoongi know about your whereabouts so he could leave his letters and gifts at your doorstep unnoticed. A perfect collaboration between two insane soulmates.
“I only did it to keep track of you, to make sure you were safe.” Taehyung’s deep voice fills with annoyance as he notices where your attention has strayed, how you’re still pressing yourself against the wall despite his reassurance that he won’t hurt you.
There’s a hard glint in Taehyung’s eyes as your gaze snaps back to him, his whole form screaming frustration as he looks you over.
“If we knew what you were up to, it would be easier to intervene if you tried to do something silly. We just wanted to make sure you didn’t waste your time on someone undeserving.”
You shiver, pulling your sheets tighter around your body. You don’t think you want to know what ‘something silly’ is, the implication is more than enough.
“If you knew I was your soulmate, why not just reach out to me? Why do all of this?” You gesture weakly in the air.
Yoongi clears his throat, shoving his hands into the pocket of his thick hoodie as he turns around to look at you and Taehyung. ”We wanted to figure out the best way to break it to you that you have two soulmates without overwhelming you. It seemed logic at the time because we felt overwhelmed ourselves, but then it got a bit … out of control.”
That’s one way to put it.
Your mind is swimming with what ifs – all the possible different scenarios of what could have played out over the last year making you sick to your stomach. They could’ve taken you sooner. They could’ve hurt someone because of you. If they had approached you normally you could’ve loved them by now–
You chug the rest of your tea, your mind and heart too exhausted to deal with the emotional turmoil coursing through your body. You need to think, to process the little information you’ve been offered so far, and how you can use it. You need to be alone.
“Can you please leave me for a bit? I’m really not feeling well. I think I need more sleep.” You really don’t need to force any conviction into your voice; you know you must look like pure shit just from how terrible you feel.
“Of course.” Yoongi nods, agreeing immediately. He walks over to your bed, a firm hand landing on Taehyung’s shoulder to get the younger man to move.
Taehyung clenches his jaw; the spot between his eyebrows furrowed as he once again looks like he’s going to see through you if he only tries hard enough. With another firm squeeze from Yoongi, Taehyung finally relents, rising to his feet. He keeps his dark eyes locked on yours as he leans in, nimble fingers reaching out to take the empty cup from your hands. You freeze as Taehyung suddenly jerks forward, fast enough that you can’t move away before you feel a set of lips pressed to your the top of your head. You suck in a startled breath, heart hammering wildly in your chest, as Yoongi drags a grinning Taehyung back, ushering him out of the room with a string of low curses.
Once the door clicks shut and the room falls silent, you reach up to the burning spot on your head, rubbing it furiously to get rid of any trace of Taehyung. You sink down in bed, the loud creaks bringing forward another round of unwanted tears. You’re just so fucking tired. You hate this. Hate them.
You pull the sheets over your head, blocking out any light as you try to regulate your breathing. You just need a short nap, just to get the rest of the drugs out of your system, and then you can figure out a way to escape afterwards. You need a plan, and you can’t trust your woozy head to make one up that will actually get you out of here. You curl up into a ball, fingers drifting back to your hair. You hate them. And what you hate even more is how the only image you can conjure, is Taehyung kissing Yeontan in the exact same spot.
Like you’re a little pet that needs consoling.
You grunt, your arms burning with effort as you try your hardest to push the window up. You don’t know how much time has passed since Yoongi and Taehyung left you alone, but it’s enough that the sun has begun to sink through the trees. Adjusting your grip, you try again, fingers aching with how hard you’re holding on to the small ledge; but the rickety old window refuses to budge. The old shoddy paint job around the window trim has likely sealed it shut, effectively stopping it from being opened.
You let go, resting your head against the cool glass to catch your breath. Smashing the window is out of the question. They’ll bust into the room before you’ll even get the chance to clear away enough glass to get through.
Sighing, you plaster yourself against the window, hoping the added inch of sight will show you something that isn’t just trees. There’s nothing around here to give you any sort of indication of where you might be. The only thing you can see is dying grass and a mixture of pine and oak trees. No roads, no lights, no people, nothing. Defeated, you turn around, letting your gaze sweep across the room for anything that might help you get out. Besides the furniture, the only heavy items in the room are your books and potted plants, and you doubt whacking them over the head with one of those will get you very far.
You tense, holding your breath, as someone moves closer to your door. They haven’t bothered you since this morning, only opening the door every now and then to check in on you. You’ve been pretending to sleep for most of the day, desperately trying to buy yourself some time to think - to plan. The only luck you think you’ve had in this situation so far is the attached bathroom. It’s old, like everything else, but it has running water and you’re not being forced to pee in a bucket. And best of all, it means you don’t have to leave the room and risk facing any of them.
But, it seems like the tiny sliver of luck you had is running out. There’s another creak, directly outside of your door this time. Your eyes dart between the door and the bed, heart hammering in your chest at the knowledge that you won’t be able to make it back in bed in time. You’re frozen to the ground, body unable to move as you stare the door handle down, begging whatever out there that will listen for it not to move. You wait, your lungs burning with the need to expand. Just as you’re beginning to feel lightheaded, the person outside your door decides to walk away, the sound of their footsteps growing fainter as they disappear to somewhere else in the cabin.
Collapsing against the window, you place your hand over your heart as you try to regulate your breathing. ”Fuck.” You mutter weakly under your breath. You don’t think you’ll be able to survive another day of feeling like you’re constantly halfway to a heart attack.
Just as you’re about to push away from the window, feeling too paranoid that they might come running back, you hear a low sound that makes your ears perk up. It’s the steady rumble of a car engine coming closer. The quiet forest seems to come alive with the sound and a newfound hope blooms in your chest as you realize that this is your ticket out. You’ll either find the keys for the car and take off, or use the road as a guide to get back to the city by foot. You have no clue how far away you really are but you’ll take walking for three days straight over staying here another day. Is it a little reckless? Absolutely. But you’re willing to risk it if it means you’ll even have the tiniest chance of getting away.
You slowly make your way back to bed, hugging your arms close to your torso as you stare out at the burning sky. You just have to wait for it to get dark, for them to fall asleep, and then you’ll run.
You wince, biting back a curse as the door lets out a small squeak into the dead silent cabin. With no clock anywhere in your vicinity, you were left to count every minute that passed after the last light outside your door turned off. You gave yourself 90 minutes on the dot, just enough to ensure that everyone should be asleep.
You slowly poke your head out of the crack in the door, the blanket of darkness in front of you making it near impossible to differentiate between what's furniture and what’s just the structure of the cabin. You would think laying awake for so long would’ve made your eyes adjust better, but being out in the woods with not even the moon offering some help, is like stepping into another world. You take a tentative step out of your room, hands outstretched to keep yourself from bumping into anything. You have no idea where you’re going to find a pair of keys under these conditions, but maybe they were careless enough to leave them near the door? If not, you’re just going to have to book it and hope for the best.
From the little you can make out though, it looks like your room is at the beginning of a hallway, more doors filling the walls to your left. Taking only a step in the opposite direction leads you into a large open space, probably the living room, with what you can only assume is the front door on the other side. There’s something that must be a fireplace taking up the majority of one of the walls in the room. You can vaguely make out a cluster of shapes in a half-moon formation in front of it, likely a collection of couches and armchairs based on the different heights.
The dark open space in front of your makes you shudder, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. The alarm bells in your head are screaming danger – that you have no idea what might be waiting for you in the shadows. But, even then, you know deep down that there’s nothing more dangerous than staying here. That no monsters lurking in the woods could ever be as bad as the ones under this roof.
You steel yourself, letting out a soft huff of air into the quiet cabin. You slowly move your sock-clad feet across the floor, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, hands sweeping back and forth to make sure you won’t trip over any stray pieces of furniture. Your eyes roam blindly over the open space, jumping from shadow to shadow, your brain unhelpfully trying to convince you that something is always moving just out of the corner of your eye. Your depth perception isn’t great, but you think you must be close to halfway through the room when you finally touch the raised back of one of the couches. You grip the worn material tightly, grounding yourself in the coarse feel of it. You slide your hand forward, using it as a guide to make sure you’re at least moving straight forward. Feeling like you’re close to getting away makes you get a little brave, a little excited, and that’s why you remember a little too late that the floor here creaks.
The wooden plank underneath your foot groans loudly, the protest sounding like thunder in the silence. You stumble back, the offending foot raised in the air as your heart plummets to your stomach. Lights flood your eyes before you can even think to book it for the door. You squeeze them shut, wincing, as it momentarily blinds you. You turn your head in the direction of the light, eyes flying back open as someone clears their throat.
He’s sitting in one of the large armchairs, one leg crossed over the other, fist resting against his cheek. He quirks an eyebrow as he catches your gaze, face void of any emotion as he says, ”Baby, what are you doing?”
You dig your fingers into the couch to keep yourself standing, legs shaking with fear as Jimin leans forward in his seat, clearly waiting for an answer. You had no idea he was there. He must’ve been so swallowed up by the shadows that you couldn’t even make out his form against the chair, like a perfect predator waiting for its prey to just walk right into their trap.
You swallow thickly. Telling the truth is out of the question. There’s no way it’s going to end well for you if you admit to trying to escape.
“I’m hungry. I just wanted to find some food.” You lie, voice quivering in a way you hope sounds pitiful and not guilty.
Jimin doesn’t quite buy it, you can tell.
“Really? That doesn’t seem like the right direction to the fridge, Y/n.” He lazily gestures in the direction of the front door, tilting his head as if he’s sizing you up.
Play it cool, you remind yourself, your escape route slipping out of sight as you turn your body fully to face Jimin. Play it dumb.
“I don’t know where anything is.” You pout softly. ”It was dark and I didn’t want to disturb anyone this late. I was just going to grab something and go back to my room. My stomach is feeling really queasy.” You gently rub your belly for added effect, hoping that indirectly mentioning the drugs will make Jimin soften up at bit.
Jimin watches you for a moment, calculating, searching, before his eyes drift behind you into the dark hallway. ”Seokjin hyung!”
He doesn’t believe you. He called Seokjin for backup and they’re going to punish you for trying to run away. They’re going to hurt you–
You suck in a broken breath as a door somewhere behind you open and closes, hurried footsteps coming closer to your turned back. Someone lets out a light gasp, and a smirk catches on Jimin’s mouth just as a pair of hands spin your around.
You come face to face with Seokjin, his expression thrilled as his fingers drift from your shoulders to your face. He cups your cheeks, keeping you rooted in place as his worried eyes roam over your features. ”You’re finally awake! My poor Y/n, you look so tired. Look at what those drugs–” He cuts himself off with a huff.
Seokjin runs his thumbs over the fullness of your cheeks, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. "How are you feeling, angel?”
Your hands shake by your sides, unsure of how you should proceed. Does Seokjin know you tried to run? Is he just acting nice to make you lower your guard?
You hear the chair shift as Jimin stands. ”Y/n is hungry, hyung. You helped Namjoon out with making that miso soup earlier, right? Maybe you should heat that up for her.”
“Of course we’ll get you some food, angel. Come along.” Seokjin brightens up, releasing your face in favour of grabbing your hand. Your stomach turns at the contact, but you know better than to fight it as he begins leading you to another wing of the cabin. You’re too afraid to let your gaze drift, all too aware of Jimin’s presence right behind you. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s a threat, a silent reminder that it’s futile to try to run.
Seokjin keeps a firm grip on your hand as he brings you into the kitchen. You’re surprised to find that it has a decent size, much bigger than you were expecting. Though, judging by the random pieces of old police paraphernalia decorating the walls, you suppose the cabin has to be this big if it needs to house an entire station of officers every summer.
You end up seated by the table in the middle of the room, sitting stiffly in the chair as Seokjin putters around the kitchen. Jimin is leaning against the doorframe; one ankle resting over the other as he shamelessly watches you. You suppose there is some truth in the lie you told Jimin, your stomach twisting sharply as the earthy smell of the heating soup begins to fill the kitchen. You are hungry, but you have no idea how you’re going to eat anything when it feels like your heart is trying to beat its way out of your throat.
“Here you go, angel.” Seokjin places a steaming bowl of soup in front of you. He gently curls your fingers around the spoon he places in your hand, his face expectant as he waits by your side. ”Remember to blow on it, it’s hot.”
You heed Seokjin’s warning, gently blowing on the broth in your spoon before you drink it. You hate that your first thought is that it’s tasty. You quickly take another sip, choosing to blame the deliciousness on your ravenous stomach rather than entertaining the possibility that the soup might just be that good.
Though, even as you slowly work your way through the steaming bowl, you’re very aware that there’s a chance the soup might have been tampered with. You don’t think Seokjin would do it, he didn’t seem very pleased with Hoseok’s decision, but it’s a risk you’ll have to take. You won’t get far without any kind of sustenance in your body, so if you’re going to have even the slightest chance or getting away, you need to eat.
The sound of thundering footsteps startles you; almost making you drop your spoon as Jungkook and Namjoon come barrelling into the room. They skid to a stop by Jimin’s side, both of them wide-eyed as they find you sitting so casually at the table. You feel yourself clamming up even more under the additional sets of eyes, the soup in your mouth dragging down your throat like molasses as you swallow the last mouthful. Jungkook at least has the decency to look ashamed; gaze adverted to the ground in what you can only hope is regret. You’ve had no time to really think about what has happened yet, too caught up in planning your escape, but seeing him stings. Out of all of them, you were closest to Jungkook – hell, you even considered him a friend, and so the betrayal runs a little deeper with him, hurts a little more.
Namjoon steps closer, his surprise bleeding into elation as he realizes what you’re eating. ”Was the soup good, darling? I asked hyung for help to make sure it would be edible. I didn’t want to upset your stomach even more with my poor cooking.”
You stare down at your empty bowl, bobbing your head. You know there’s no point in pretending it wasn’t, not when you’ve practically licked the bowl clean.
“Great!” Seokjin chirps. Your shoulders fly up to your ears as he smoothes his hand over your hair in a quick motion.
Seokjin grabs your empty bowl like nothing happened, walking back over to the stove to refill it. ”You had us all so worried, angel. You were knocked out for over a day in such deep sleep that we were anxious you were going to become our own Sleeping Beauty.”
Your breath hitches. You’ve been here for two days already? That can’t be right. There’s no way your body would allow itself to relax like that, not with them around.
You watch Seokjin’s back as he ladles more soup into your bowl, making sure he doesn’t reach out to add anything else to it. Seokjin sighs, something mournful in his voice as he says, ”You must’ve been so overwhelmed, you poor thing. You probably needed the extra rest. I’m sure the past days haven’t been easy on you.”
Your heart nearly gives out as Seokjin turns to walk back to the table, your attention returning to the rest of the room as he places the new serving in front of you. You were so focused on him that you didn’t even notice the three remaining men of the group soundlessly entering the kitchen, the three extra pairs of eyes raising the hair on your body.
“We thought we heard someone talking.” Hoseok says.
You flinch at the sound of his voice, fingers trembling in your lap as it once again hits you with full force that he drugged you. You dig your heels into the floor to keep yourself seated as Hoseok and Yoongi each find their own chairs on the other side of the table, resisting the urge to run away as far as you can. Taehyung stays at Jimin’s side by the doorway, curling an arm around his waist as he hooks his chin over Jimin’s shoulder.
“We should take a moment to talk actually, now that Y/n is awake.” Namjoon gestures for Jungkook and Seokjin to take a seat, the three of them occupying the last available chairs around the table. He glances over at Jimin and Taehyung, but the blonde gives him a small shake of his head, indicating that they’re both comfortable where they are.
“Darling,” Namjoon clears his throat. ”Like Seokjin hyung mentioned, you were sleeping for a long time. It gave us some time to look into our soulbond. We obviously need a lot more time to research and come to a final conclusion, but we think we might have an idea of what’s going on.”
“We always felt like we found each other by fate, like how Jimin stumbled over Jungkook that night, and how Yoongi and Taehyung were randomly assigned as roommates during hyung’s last year at university. We’ve even had a running joke that we’re platonic soulmates since our soulmarks didn’t match up.”
There are a few low chuckles at that, the seven men exchanging fond looks across the room. While there’s not a single bone in your body that finds any of this amusing, there’s still a tiny part of you that’s curious about what they might have found.
“Go on,” You murmur, stirring your soup, when Namjoon silence suggests that he wants your approval before he continues.
Namjoon straightens in his seat, eyes sparkling with excitement as he animatedly says, ”But you know, maybe it actually was fate that lead us together. I found an excerpt from an old and obscure book online that discusses highly unusual cases of soulbonds and soulmates. It’s almost a hundred years old, so I’m not sure how well it can be trusted, but it describes different cases of multiple soulmates where only one person is the nucleus of the bond. You know how there’s a chance that one soulmate might feel the bond more intensely than the other? That their connection isn’t equal? That applies to this, us, as well. We’ve been talking, and we believe that you, darling, is the nucleus of our bond and that’s why you don’t feel it as strongly as we do. You have a soulbond that’s stretched in seven directions – while we are only connected to you alone. Maybe that’s why we found each other, because we could feel our connection through our bonds with you.”
You slump in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek as you think. You don’t think Namjoon is lying. It all sounds plausible. You’ve seen the reports of unbalanced bonds yourself, where two or three soulmates don’t all feel the bond as strongly. Much like the nature of your own soulbond, you always thought of it as cruel. You suppose it boils down to chance, just like anything else. Some people get sick, some don’t. Some people have unbalanced soulbonds, while others do not. And some, like yourself, have the worst luck in the entire world, with stalkers for soulmates and bonds that apparently are completely fucked.
“Tell her about the last part you found as well, Namjoon-ah.” Yoongi encourages softly, mindful of the troubled expression on your face.
“Right,” Namjoon takes a deep breath, folding his hands on top of the table as he leans closer.
”Bonds like ours are very rare, so rare in fact, that there’s only been a handful of documented cases through the last three hundred years. It seems that they often bring in some, uhm, unwanted attention, so I suspect there might be more out there that simply haven’t registered themselves in fear of being detained and experimented on. But, while the general consensus might not look too kindly on our bond now, it used to be seen as something special, something amazing. There are quite a few old cultures that have fables about bonds like ours, Y/n, about how the soulmates were cosmically connected to each other through past lives and reincarnation. Some even regarded our bond as heavenly – godly.”
Heavenly? Godly? That’s not exactly the words you would use to describe this past year. You figured something had to be wrong when you felt pain from all seven of them in Hoseok’s shop, but you never would have thought your bond could be this messed up. You truly feel at a loss for words, your thoughts and emotions roaring so loudly inside your head you have no idea where to even begin to process this.
“I think it makes just as much sense as anything else. Well, the nucleus part, I’m not so sure I believe in reincarnation.” Hoseok says, grinning, as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Jimin snorts at Hoseok’s tone, but there’s something in the way he looks at you, something intense enough to make you wonder if he actually does believe in what Namjoon talked about.
"Taehyung-ah, do you want to tell us about your theory? It doesn’t sound as far-fetched now that past lives might be on the table as well.” Yoongi throws Taehyung a look over his shoulder, eyebrows quirking as he meets his roommate’s eyes.
“Ah,” Taehyung curls himself tighter around Jimin, cheeks turning rosy. ”I watched this movie over a year ago, Letters in Time, that’s about two soulmates. The man figures it out before the woman does, so he tries to woo her with letters, one color for every day, to win her love before he reveals himself. And it works! I just thought it was really romantic and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks afterwards.”
“I think I might know the lines by heart with how often he watched it.” Yoongi groans.
“As I was saying–” Taehyung grumbles, ”I think, maybe, that I might have affected all of us? Even if our link is weak, it’s still there and if I felt strongly enough about it, maybe I accidentally influenced the whole group to write letters? I convinced Yoongi hyung to do it because we both knew about Y/n, but how can you explain how all of you suddenly started doing the same thing?”
A blanket of silence falls over the table as everyone gets lost in their thoughts.
“I … I don’t know why I started writing them.” Seokjin says, his brows furrowed. ”Letters have never really been my style.”
“I just woke up one day and it felt like the right thing to do.” Jimin adds with a shrug, jostling Taehyung with the action. You’re surprised at how easily Jimin accepts it when the rest at least seem to be somewhat shocked by Taehyung’s theory, but perhaps it isn’t all that crazy to him if he already believes in cosmic connections.
“Interesting.” Namjoon mutters under his breath. ”We have to look more into it of course, to see if there’s any documented cases of something like this happening between soulmates but I think you might be on to something, Taehyung.”
“What do you think, Y/n?” Jungkook’s soft voice barely carries across the table. His dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, hardly holding your gaze for a second before he looks back down at his hands. It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak since you woke up. It makes your heart ache without your consent, like it has a hard time letting go of the shy man you befriended.
You shrink under the six intense stares that suddenly turn their full attention to you. What do you think? Well, that this is crazy, insane, that they’ve lost their minds, that maybe you have too – but you know better than to voice that out loud. So, instead, you swallow down the curses and profanities at the tip of your tongue and say, ”I think I need more time. I’m um, very overwhelmed right now.”
“That’s understandable, angel.” Seokjin croons.
It’s not a lie, not really; it does feel like your brain is two seconds away from melting out of your brain. You just don’t understand how they can all be so okay with all of this. Wait– The thought makes you pause. Are they okay?
“This has to be difficult for you guys too, right? Sharing a soulmate with six others, I mean?” You try to tamper down your curiosity, doing your best to sound as disinterested as possible. Perhaps you can use this to your advantage? If you manage to pit them against each other, you can run away without them noticing.
“It’s going to be an adjustment.” Seokjin admits. ”Aside from Taehyung and Yoongi, the rest of us had no idea that we would have to share you with someone else, and we definitely didn’t think it would end up being so many. But, this has to be the best-case scenario for us. We’re already close friends! Having this bond just brings us even closer – like a family.”
Ah. So pitting them against each other definitely won’t work then. Not with how the rest of the room softens at Seokjin’s words, pretty smiles blooming on their lips as they coo teasingly at the oldest for being sappy.
“When can I leave?” The kitchen goes quiet at that.
You didn’t even mean to say it out loud. Your brain just feels so fried from the after effects of drug and the pure exhaustion clinging to your body that you’re having a hard time filtering yourself.
Yoongi sighs, the smile on his lips turning sad as he looks at you across the table. ”You can’t, Y/n. Not yet at least.”
The unspoken not until you accept us hangs in the air between you.
“Okay.” You whisper, resigned, too tired to fight them over it.
Plan B, it is then. You knew it was important to have something to fall back on if your escape didn’t pan out, that having some sort of plan was necessary in order to keep yourself going. It isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, but it will have to do.
You’ll have to make them think you’re compliant, that you actually like them. You can’t suddenly just turn around tomorrow and act like you love them, no; you know they’ll see right through that. But if you pretend that you’re warming up to them over a week or two, that they maybe aren’t so bad after all, perhaps you can manipulate them into taking you somewhere? Somewhere you can slip away and find help? It’s either that or continue to openly hate them, and you shudder to think how long you’ll have to stay here if you go that route.
The men around the table relax in their chairs when you don’t fight back, Hoseok and Seokjin looking especially happy with your quick acceptance. Jimin and Taehyung though– They don’t seem very convinced. Taehyung whispers something into the blonde’s ear, sharp eyes peering at you over Jimin’s shoulder. The older nods, the suspicion and distrust clear on his face as he tilts his head in your direction, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise at your compliance.
You advert your eyes back to your soup, tampering down the scowl that tries to twist your mouth. Fine. You’ll just have to work harder to convince the two of them.
You take another sip of the now cold broth, forcing down half of the bowl before you eventually push it away. You’re going to need all the strength you can get in order to escape once the opportunity finally present itself.
With sleep tugging at your eyes now that your belly is full and somewhat sated, it takes minimal fretting to convince you to go back to bed. You barely manage to tolerate their light touches on your arms and hair as you hurry past them and you soon find yourself walking back to your room, Jungkook hot on your heels. To your surprise, he had spoken up before anyone else could offer to take you back, already waiting by the door by the time you made it across the kitchen.
Despite everything that has happened, you find yourself a little relieved that it’s him. Jungkook is shy and quiet, keeping close but not so much that you feel like he’s breathing down your neck. He gives you room to look, and you can only hope his trustful nature will brush off your wandering eyes as just innocent curiosity. The light Jimin turned on in the large living space illuminates the room well enough that you can memorize every nook and cranny you’re dragging your feet past.
The door on the other side of the room calls to you like a beacon, urging you to chance it. It’s not that far – if you catch Jungkook by surprise maybe you’ll get a head start … Your feet begin to change course before your brain realizes what’s happening. It screams at your muscles to stop before you can move even further, and the conflicting messages make you stumble, a startled noise leaving your lips as your foot slips.
Jungkook grabs your arm before you can fall. One hand settles on your hip as he pulls you back, leaning your weight against his body to keep you steady. There’s a hint of panic in his voice as he ducks down, breath brushing over your ear as he asks, ”Are you okay?”
You can feel Jungkook’s heart hammering against your back, beating so quickly you have to hold yourself back from returning the question. The grip he has on your hip is tight, your body pressed flushed up against his. Shivers shoot down your spine as you notice how the pads of Jungkook’s fingertips are pressed against your bare skin, your sweater bunched over your middle after your almost-fall. There’s a faint buzz under your skin, the same tingling sensation as the ones you’ve felt before when one of the others have touched you. You always wrote it off as just feeling weirded out by them, but in light of what Namjoon explained earlier, you dreadfully realize that it must be the soulbond you’re feeling. It’s just so faint, so easily explained away because it’s stretched thin in seven directions.
You nod, voice faltering as you stiffly reply, ”I’m fine.”
Jungkook lets you go slowly, apparently not quite believe that you’ll manage to stay on your feet when he steps away. He hovers close until you’re back in your room, lingering by the foot of your bed as you lay down. You wrap yourself up tightly, both to fend off the chilly air and to make sure none of your skin is accessible.
Jungkook bites his lip, hesitating as he looks down at your curled up form. Sadness flits across his face, voice meek as he says, ”I’m sorry, Y/n. I-I didn’t want things to happen this way.”
But it still did, you think, squeezing your eyes shut as you flip over on your side. Jungkook can apologize all he wants but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still here; trapped indefinitely.
“I know this must be scary for you, but please try to like us, okay? It’ll make everything a lot easier.” Jungkook doesn’t sound very convinced by his own words. How can he, when he knows the six other men in the cabin much better than you do – the lengths they’re willing to go to keep you?
You hear the floor creak as he steps away from your bed. He lets out a soft, vulnerable sigh, his stuttering whispers haunting the room long after he leaves it.
“Please try. We–they won’t let you go. We l-love you.”
a/n: besties, idk what happened with this one. life has just been a jumbled mess since the last update and i feel like it’s very much reflected in his chapter. i hope you can forgive me and i’ll do my best to deliver a better chapter with the next update. :( i would love to hear your thoughts either way though!
you know the drill - everything is unbetaed so please excuse any mistakes!
if you’d like to support lovesick or my writing in general, i would really appreciate an ko-fi! 💖
i hope you are all doing well and staying safe!
(ps. i’m not doing taglists!)