latest : eyes like stars : chap 1

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Still Blue | One-Shot (Taehyung)

Still Blue | One-Shot (Taehyung)

Still Blue | One-Shot (Taehyung)

Rating/Genre: M18+, exes to ???; angst, smut 💖, a bit of fluff, sort of hurt/comfort Pairings: Rocker!Taehyung x Reader(f) Warnings: Explicit smut, a slightly toxic relationship, issues have not been worked on as they should’ve, they are very recent exes so it’s still kind of mid-break-up, unresolved but happy(?) ending, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, pet name ‘baby’, 'good girl', ~lovemaking~, awkwardness, Tae is like kind of stubborn and kind of a mess, dirty talk, begging, a lot o'feelings!!, praise, implied squirting Word Count: 3.0k (hehehe) Summary: Taehyung hurts. But Taehyung can make the world move.

A/N: This is for the Into the Blue event hosted by @daechwitatamic, @jeonqkooks and @wintaerbaer so it's inspired by the teaser for the Blue MV! Make sure to check out the other fics as they're posted :)

Still Blue | One-Shot (Taehyung)

Behind the door, he stands in full get-up, black smudged around his eyes, studded leather jacket pulled across his shoulders, sandy blonde hair a shaggy mess. He still looks gorgeous, even if it’s not your Taehyung. His gaze lifts quickly at the familiar creak of the hinge. 

“Hi,” you breathe, pulse already pounding.

“Hey." It's low and serious, kind of awkward, as he takes a mini-step forward. “My stuff?”

Your eyes widen slightly, stomach immediately wringing. Wow, no need to waste time with pleasantries clearly. “O-k…” you respond stiffly. There’s a fleeting thought that just maybe this past week was more painful for you than for him, if he can greet you so coldly. 

He comes inside when you step back, leaving the door open for him. Then he runs a hand through his hair as he looks around, terribly impatient. “Where is it?”

“Damn. Didn’t realize you were in such a rush,” you mumble as you turn.

“Got a gig tonight.”

“‘Course you do,” you say just as you disappear through the doorway into the bedroom.

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it works,” he calls out, clearly having heard you. 

Ignoring his gaze, you walk back out with the big box of stuff – more than you’d thought it would be before you’d compiled all the things he’d forgotten on the day Jungkook helped him move out. 

You don’t reply, refusing to take the bait.

He receives the open box, rests it on the entrance table that not long ago was home to two sets of keys, and starts to pick through it. “What’s this?”

You look over from where you’re standing with your arms crossed, filled with tension because the strength of Taehyung’s gravitational pull comes back so fast and hard every time. You step closer. “What?”

“This?” he says more softly, holding up the faded blue t-shirt that was shared between the two of you so many times that you can’t even remember who it originally belonged to. Though, now that you think of it… “It’s yours.”

“Oh, yeah… I guess you wore it so often, my brain forgot,” you say awkwardly. It feels like his shirt. As much as this apartment feels like his apartment. As much as your hands feel like his hands, and your body feels like his body. 

He looks at you unhappily. Stares actually, even once you break the eye contact and take an audible breath, feeling too exposed. Taehyung’s never been one to care much about social cues.

“I mean, you– you can have it,” you say finally, trying to make the moment end. He was rushing you but now all you want is for him to go so you can cry in peace, with or without the blue shirt that will probably never cease to smell like him anyway. 

“Don’t…. do that,” he says, struggling to get the words out.

“Do what?”

“Say it like this is really… it.” There’s a wobble in his voice though he’s trying to keep his eyes hard, his jaw set. You can see it all so clearly. 

You breathe, determined to keep your composure. But Taehyung is your weakness. “This is it, Tae. You moved out.”

“Because you wanted me to.”

You shake your head slightly, looking down, biting at your lip. “I don’t want to talk about this again. We just go in circles.”

A moment passes. 

“I don’t want it,” he says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes either as he thrusts his hand out with the shirt clutched in it.

You look his hand back up to his face, then your arm slowly lifts. “Um, ok, I’ll… keep it,” you say quietly, not sure how to navigate this without upsetting him – and yourself – more. 

But when you take hold of the shirt, he doesn’t release it, just stares solemnly down at your hands as he lets out a breath. 

It hurts. 

Trying to figure out how to be merciful, you step closer and whisper: “You can keep it. It’s ok.”

“That’s not what I want,” he whispers back, and you can see the wetness in his eyes. “I don’t want any of this.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you say helplessly, coming even closer to him because you really can’t help it, the shirt still caught between where both of your arms hang loosely between the two of you. “I told you I can’t do it. You’re gone, and then when you are here, I feel like I barely see you anyway.”

“It won’t be like that all the time,” he urges, something he keeps repeating, despite you both knowing it can’t be true. 

You close your eyes, sighing. “You guys are only getting bigger...–”

“Exactly. So I’ll have more power to make decisions. I can choose to be home with you.”

“But you won’t,” you breathe. He never wants to admit that he has trouble choosing you, but it’s become too loud for you to ignore.

He pulls slightly on the t-shirt, bringing you an inch closer, your free hand naturally finding his elbow. Then he peers heartbreakingly down at you. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you say softly. You don’t say it back even though he knows it’s true. 

He tilts his head forward as his eyes fall closed, his forehead meeting yours. 

There’s no choice but to stay still. In the moment with him. Chest tightening as you try to take a good breath. You really don’t want him to be in pain. God, it hurts.

“I love you,” he repeats more quietly, and your eyes fall closed too. 

It’s not enough. You can’t say it though. He’s too fragile to hear it, even if he already knows it inside. 

He tilts his head slightly, face coming closer to yours so the pull of his lips is strong. Addicting, like always. 

“I don’t want to sleep alone anymore,” you whisper. A last ditch attempt.

“I’m right here.”

You ignore his words, and try your best to ignore the way his hands are slipping around your waist and squeezing, the old shirt becoming trapped between your bodies. “All I do is wonder whether you’re thinking about me. And if you’re happy. If you’re safe.”

“I think about you all the time,” he says in that seductive way, shifting his head a bit more so that his lips just brush against yours. “On stage, on the road, at night on the bus when I can’t sleep.” Lifting a hand to your jaw, he kisses you then, making you suck in a tight breath. “When I’m in the shower, I think about you. About touching you. Having you right here.” Another squeeze. Another kiss.

You sigh shakily into his mouth. It’s so familiar. Mainly in the sense that it knocks you down every time. 

He kisses you deeper, pulling your whole body against him, and despite your hands jumping to his chest, soft leather under your fingers, you don’t push him away. Not even a little. He steps forward and you go with him, disoriented, until your ass is hitting the back of the couch. No where else to go, he changes direction, pulling you instead to follow after him as he backs towards the bedroom, all without even separating your lips. 

You know with everything in you that this is not solving anything, can only make things worse, in fact. You’d been strong for a whole week, not texting him, not calling him, not showing up at the guys' apartment in the middle of the night, all torn up and missing him. You thought about it, yes – but you didn't. 

“Tae,” you breathe when you break your lips apart in front of the bed, but that’s the closest you can come to trying to stop him.  

He shucks his jacket off then crawls on with you, inching forward overtop of you as you inch back. “I miss you,” he says as he lowers his mouth back to your lips then veers off to the side, kissing your jaw then your neck with a languid hunger. 

“This isn’t…” you try but your arms are around him, holding him loosely as he paints kisses down your throat, breathing heavily, so focused. “This can’t fix the problem,” you whisper, eyes squeezed shut, brows contorted above them. 

He lifts up, enough to look you so earnestly in the eye, and says: “We’ll figure it out.”

You breathe out, half-sigh half-moan, as a hand runs over your body and his lips find your pulse point. His words would bring you more peace if you believed them. He believes them; that you are sure of. But Taehyung seems to always naively believe that things will work out, regardless of his actions.

“I promise.” He pulls your shirt off and you let him. Then his shirt. Then your pants. And his. Each punctuated by more hot delicious kisses that make your body scream. 

“Tae,” you whisper again, more pathetically, because you’re really trying even though it seems like you're not. 

He slips his hand down between your legs, rubs gentle circles over the thin material, letting you feel how much your body has already said yes. It feels electric, even over your panties, and you gasp, tangling your hands in his long hair and arching into him.

“Baby... can we please just pretend for a moment that nothing else exists?” he asks softly, breath hitting your skin, kissing you more before you can even reply.

That’s what it always feels like. That’s what you always think. It’s like two different worlds. Making love to Taehyung, and then everything else. 

And he’s calling you baby, and he tastes so good and comforting, and his fingertips are pulling aside the cotton to get to the slippery mess that you can’t help. 

“Just wanna feel you,” he breathes into your neck before inhaling deeply, sliding his fingers through your folds at the same time.

“Fuck,” you squeak as your body tenses, hips canting to direct him to your hole that suddenly feels so empty. 

“Hear your pretty sounds. Mmm–” he adds, dragging more of your wetness to your clit to swirl around it, starting to watch your face intently as your expression turns to pure whimpering desperation, begging eyes locked on his as your lips part. 

He watches for a few moments then leans down, kisses the corner of your mouth as he swirls a little faster, blissing you out with the sharp stimulation. Your eyes squeeze shut again, a long drawn out moan falling from you as you feel that knot pulling in your tummy. 

“Fuck, Tae,” you whine in way of warning but he just continues, licking his lips, watching you intently as the pleasure surges through you.

“Gonna come like this already?” he rasps into your ear but he’s not surprised in the slightest. He’s extremely well-practiced in making you come, however he likes, whenever he likes, however many times he likes. 

Nothing else exists when his hands are on you. The room already feels like it’s spinning, his body the only thing grounding you to the bed. You can’t even remember why he’s here. 

“Gonna come,” you breathe out in a relinquishing sigh, sinking fully into the feeling of him, his hand working expertly between your legs, and his perfect mouth which is now kissing down your chest, sucking teasingly on your nipple.

He hums his satisfied response, not changing a single thing about what he’s doing until you’re jerking and crying out with the onslaught of your climax, body arching off the bed, hips running away from his hand, fingers digging into the sheets. 

“God, fuck, Tae–” you choke, twisting, closing your legs because you’re too fucking sensitive for him to keeping rubbing the way he is, but then he slips his fingers lower, sinking them into your dripping wetness, making you curse all over again. 

“Wanna make you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, shifting so he’s lying on his side right up against you, hooking a leg over yours to keep it open. He tangles his other hand in your hair, pulling it a little, bouncing your attention to the slight pain before it gets dragged back down to the spot inside of you that he’s pressing against over and over. “Make you come so hard you can’t even think.”

Pathetically, you’re already halfway there, whimpering at his words and grinding your hips down against his fingers. “Please, please, please,” you whisper quietly, unsure what you’re asking for because he’s already exactly where you want him. 

“So good to me. So fucking good to me so I’m gonna be good to you too, ok?” he assures, pressing more kisses to your chest, your neck, your lips, whatever he can reach without having to take away from the perfect rhythm he’s found inside you. 

You moan, walls clenching tighter around him, your wetness no doubt squishing out around his fingers onto his knuckles. 

“Good girl. Just focus on me,” he continues, his voice so smooth and low and raspy, like he’s been working it too hard lately. He bites gently at your ear lobe, thrusting his fingers a little faster, then groaning in your ear, performatively because he knows what it does to you when it sounds like he’s being pleasured just from touching you. “Fuck, baby,” he moans in whisper.

Your breathing is getting heavier, your hips moving faster. God, you want to come again so bad, but it’s wavering out of reach. You want more, something bigger or faster or harder, or just something. 

He whimpers in your ear. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. God, I can’t wait to fuck the shit out of you.”

You gasp, tilting your head back into the pillow, feeling him adjust his arm slightly so he can fuck into you that much harder. 

“Come again for me and I will, ok? … I’ll fill you up so good. Stretch out this tight little pussy.” He kisses hot against your skin then whimpers again, groaning when it gets exactly the desired reaction, you writhing and letting out a sob, walls pulsing around him. “Baby, I want to fuck you so bad. Please, please, come for me. Please. Come like a good girl for me,” he begs, practically tauntingly with how it’s dripping with his exaggerated neediness. 

It works as it always does, the breath that you suck in getting caught inside you as your orgasm blinds you. Your body tenses, lifts, silence in the room save for the gushing sound between your legs until it’s run its course enough for you to let out a shaky throaty moan as everything releases.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praises hard, still fucking his fingers into you but slowly, placing less pressure on your front wall. “Ok, baby?”

You nod, taking heavy breaths, strikes of pleasure still shooting through you intermittently, especially when he brushes his thumb over your clit in a lazy circle. “Fuck… fuck…” you’re still whispering, even once your high has fully subsided because he still just feels so good, playing you like an instrument that he mastered long ago. 

He kisses you, directing your head sideways with his hold on your hair while his other hand continues to dance between your legs, then he’s shifting, pressing up over top of you to slip his boxers down. 

You don’t even have to think to open your legs wider, raise your arms to embrace him, palms slipping over the soft skin of his back as he hovers over you. He teases at your entrance, brushing over your swollen clit, then it’s only a few seconds before he’s pressing into the wetness with a chesty groan, stretching you wide.

As soon as he’s slotted inside you, he leans down, wrapping around you, meeting your body as much as he can, his hips doing all the work of a slowly steady roll into you that has him hitting so right. “Feel so fucking perfect,” he mumbles before pressing a sensuous kiss to your lips, keeping it in sync with the delicious wave of his body against yours. 

This is truly the reason you shouldn’t be letting this happen. He’s capable of sinking you so deep into him, like you’re drowning but you don’t even want to come up for air. Every single bit of him sparks something in you.

He fucks you with his whole body, and in return, you accept him with all of yours, your back arching, hips moving in tandem with the way his cock pushes in and out, dragging against your walls, and pulling in just the way that has you digging your nails into his back.  

Gradually, he moves faster, breathing a little heavier with the way he’s started to pound down into your cunt. Still, it somehow feels romantic – because it’s him and you love him, and your body loves him, and there’s not much Taehyung can do without it feeling romantic.

Even though neither of you say it now, you can feel his “I love you” with each thrust, hear it with each ragged breath he lets out, each groan pulled from his throat. 

When you come, you come together, holding each other tight, moans and curses filling the air. You’re still shaking, he’s still pulsing inside of you, barely over your highs, when he cradles your head in his hands and says, “I need you.” He kisses you slow and deep. “Baby, I need you to stay. I don’t know how to fix it but I promise I will.”

You try to breathe, blinking up at him. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he says again with a sure nod and the sweetest eyes before pulling you into another kiss. “I don’t want anyone else. You’re it.”

You know you’re not thinking clearly. But this time, you believe him too.

Still Blue | One-Shot (Taehyung)

A/N: i don't think i'm capable of writing Tae without making him a moody lil -----. i'm too influenced by is xNFP type and his general poutiness lol but i also love him so muuuuuchhhh. obviously i leaned angsty bc of the tension in the teaser! i hope you enjoyed :D

Tag List: @theharrowing @here4kpopfics @the-boy-meets-evil @aris-ink @notbotheredtho @bangchansbae

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1 year ago

Victory | Namjoon

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Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.


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