Mean Kitty, Soft Kitty

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mean kitty, soft kitty

Summary: Your injured form was the last thing Jin had expected when waking up one morning. But after healing you, and watching you leave, he wished he would wake up to you again, if only to see if you were okay. The rest of his home felt the same way, and when a storm comes, it brings you back to the men who made you feel safe.

Genre: hybrid au, bts au, polyamory relationship, bts x reader

Pairing: Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, past trauma, mentions of heat, mentions of knot, smut, 

Note: Thank you guys so much for 2,000 followers! I truly appreciate each and every one of my followers❤️

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The morning air was crisp when Jin woke up, untangling himself from Taehyung who had somehow turned over and nearly suffocated him in his sleep. Making his way out of the rom and into the kitchen, he began making breakfast for the rest of his boys. Before he could start cracking the eggs into the pan, he heard a small whimper, the window above the sink open slightly to let the cool air into the house.

Jin thought he was hearing things at first, but when he heard it again, he rushed outside, looking around for the source of the pained whimper. When he couldn’t find anything, even after walking around the outside of the house multiple times, he began his trek back inside only to hear it again.

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Petal - Taehyung soulmate/mafia au Drabble

Next

Guess who’s meant to be asleep but decided to write a Drabble? Heavily unedited since I’m literally falling asleep but I’ll fix that tomorrow.

Angst TW: assault but nothing graphic

In all your years of living, you don’t think you’ve heard Kim Taehyung speak a word to you, yet you can’t remember a time he was absent from your life. You did meet your soulmate when you were both three after all, while most others met theirs a lot older.

You’ll never forget the day you did, it was the earliest memory you had. Playing in the park on a Thursday, seeing a little boy crouched down in the flower bed, picking petals off the flowers with awe in his eyes. You remember the pull, and wondered if that’s why they called the bond between soulmates red string. He must’ve felt it too, because he turned around and gave you a boxy grin that visited you in your dreams as you grew up without him.

“Trust the red string of fate, Y/n,” your mother always used to say in that knowing tone of hers whenever you doubted the very foundation the world was built on. But your soulmate was an anomaly, where most people meet and rarely leave each other’s side, your fated other barely acknowledged you.

And yet, you still felt your soul alight when he was near, still felt a smile, because while he may have never spoken to you directly, you still saw him as your knight in shining armour.

The first instance was aged 5, when a boy in your class decided to pull your hair in the park after school, and your mysterious boy was somehow there to pull the boy’s grip off you. That was when you learnt his name, when the other onlooking children whispered “that’s Kim Taehyung.”

They were words that followed you in life, as it seemed so did he. At thirteen, you went to the fairground with ten pounds in your pocket and two friends. You felt him before you saw him, the tug in your chest grew when he was near, and you caught a glimpse of him with two friends of his own before you lost sight of him. Instead in your line of sight came the school bully, Yeji, who’s sneer told you exactly who her next victim was. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you when she punched you in the stomach for not giving her your well earned ten pound note, what was definitely a surprise though was the second punch that never came. You had braced yourself for it, but his hands caught the swing before it reached you. You couldn’t see his face, only his soft hair and the wince on Yeji’s face as his hands crushed her fist.

“Leave her alone,” you hadn’t heard his voice in a long time, it was too deep for someone so young. When did he start to sound like that? Yeji fell to her knees with apologies babbling from her mouth, and again you could hear the whispers around you, “that’s Kim Taehyung.”

It was at 16 you found out why everyone knew who he was, it was prom, and Taehyung and his friends decided to gatecrash. If the teachers had any idea these rowdy boys were not from your school, they didn’t show it.

“Trust Kim Taehyung to show up at a school he doesn’t go to and act like a king,” your classmate, Rubin muttered.

“Why is he even here?” His date whispered.

“Must be something his fathers told him to do, a low level drug deal or something.”

“Drugs?” You didn’t mean to pipe in, but you couldn’t stop the outburst. They both looked at you incredulously as if you’d grown a second head.

“Y/n you know who that is right?” Rubin scoffs, “that guy is the heir to the Kim line...”

Your blood runs cold and a sickness settles in your stomach, you turn to look at your supposed soulmate and his eyes are dead set on you, as if waiting for a reaction, like he knew what you just uncovered. You try to swallow the nausea down, you were an idiot to not to put two and two together.

Everyone knows the Kim line, the leaders of a notorious gang that ruled with an invisible fist over your city, a crime syndicate that dealt in more than just drugs and arm deals. The Kim line were the most powerful brothers in the country and it seemed your hands were tied with red string to the heir of the lead brother. Those other two must’ve been his cousins, the next three to run the family business.

Taehyung was the first to break eye contact, turning away from you, and you felt your young heart shatter.

You hadn’t really seen him since then, you felt him near, and you’d be lying if it didn’t comfort you, but the youngest Kim of his generation and the lead heir disappeared from all sight when his father died. You know that meant he must’ve taken over the mantle, and you gazed softly at your hands wondering where the red string was and why it decided to tie you to him. Your mother’s voice could be heard in the back of your mind, but you paid it no attention.

You had never admitted it out loud, but there was such a turmoil inside of you; you wanted your soulmate near but you also wanted him far away. Maybe he knew that, which was why you were in this predicament. Maybe he always knew. You wondered if he also knew you missed his presence, which was ridiculous because you were barely ever in it, you hadn’t said a word to each other and yet you ached for him. You stared at your fingers more intently, maybe if you focused you could see the pesky string and cut it off. Maybe that wouldn’t leave you feeling so hollow and numb.

It was a Thursday night when you felt a different type of presence behind you, why had you decided to walk the twenty minutes to your house from your friends at stupid o’clock instead of taking an Uber like a normal person? Something about saving money, which seemed idiotic considering you were now thinking about saving your life.

You can hear the footsteps behind you pick up their pace as the distance between you and this stranger reduces, so you act on survival - run. In the back of your mind you think if this was innocent and you look like an idiot running away so be it, better safe than sorry. Unfortunately you’re instincts are proven right as the steps behind you turn into a sprint too close behind. You feel your head hit the ground before you realise what’s happened, ears ringing too loudly to hear the gruff voice behind you. You try your best to fight and slip away but a strong hand holds you down.

“Stay still you bitch!”

You scream into the night before he presses his hand to your mouth to muffle you. And in the second you realise this is how you die, the weight above you is gone. You take a second to catch your breath, arms fumbling under you to find the ground and get up and run. It’s the sound of metal pounding against flesh that has you looking back. You don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. The gun should scare you, but it doesn’t, not in his hands, not when it’s beating the man who hurt you. It’s eerie, but you feel safe, even when the trigger goes off, even when you see blood pool down the street.

This is where he normally leaves you, and in your panic you stumble towards him, gravitating to him until your shaky hand meets his sleeve. He lets out a harsh breath of air at the contact and immediately you let go like you’ve wounded him. Your eyes meet the ground, maybe it’s best to resume your normal routine of ephemeral silent knight. You’re surprised as his forefinger and thumb lift your chin to face him, and you’re blessed with the sight of your beautiful soul mate the universe designed for you. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes drinking him in before he leaves you again, but he doesn’t rush away this time.

“Are you okay petal?” It’s deeper than you last heard, a voice made to pick at the strings of your soul and it does, you can feel it reverberate inside of you. You don’t realise your tears have welled at the sound until he’s wiping the first drop away. You nod softly, afraid a pin drop would shatter this dream away.

He frowns, looking like he’s about to speak again before he decides against it and looks away, jaw clenched. This was a complication for him, you could feel it, and it hurt. He lets out a deep sigh before gingerly taking your fingers into his, he feels so warm, and even though his large hands are nothing like yours, his touch feels just right. He leads you with slow steps in the direction of your house. It shouldn’t surprise you he knows where you live, you never really believed he left.

What does surprise you is that he has a key, and you want to voice the questions forming in your throat but you’re terrified once you distrupt the silence youve held with this man since the moment you met, he’d disappear again.

He sits you down on the sofa of the living room, a tsk leaving his lips as he notices the scratches and cuts on your knees from where you fell. He takes an arm into his hands, pulling back the sleeves as you wince, and his suspicions are right, there are cuts there too. He inspects your face next, fingers brushing back your hair as he caresses your head and his eyes penetrate you. You don’t maintain eye contact, finding the speck on the wall ridiculously interesting, as your cheeks burn against the cold in the air. Why does he feel amused and angry at you at the same time?

He leaves you for a moment to grab the first aid kit in the kitchen, how the hell did he know it was in there?

“What idiot goes out by herself at this time of night?” He grumbles harshly as he takes out the ointment and bandages. Really he’s been wanting to scold you since he put a bullet in that bastard but his anger died when he saw your innocent little eyes look up at him. He’s really messed things up, no you messed things up by being stupid with your safety. The angry flame decides to burn again, as he takes your hands a little less than softly and presses the ointment onto your cut. It’s your wince that has him reeling back.

Is this really the first conversation your soulmate decides to have with you?

You were staring at his face until then, eyes instinctively shutting against the pain, you miss the way his face softens, placing plasters on your skin gently when he’s done. He’s more careful with your knee, watching for your reaction as he dabs the ointment there, blowing lightly to ease the sting.

Your eyes flutter open at the new sensation, a chill running up your body as your fingers go to grip at the ends of your skirt at the sight in front of you, but you can’t look away. You’ve been denied this face for too long, your soul was trying to beat out of your heart to get closer to him.

Instead of answering his question, you ask your own.

“Why have you stayed away from me for so long?” Your voice is quiet but it cuts through him, a new pain in his chest from how small you sound. His soulmate speaks to him for the first time and she sounds hurt because of him. He looks away then with a sense of shame. What was he supposed to say? He’s been destined to take over a crime syndicate that’s been passed through generations and doesn’t want his soulmate involved? That it was easier to keep you safe if no one knew who you were to him, and it killed him to stay away this long. That in his soul he knew you were pure and gentle, and the universe was playing some cruel trick in making you for him when he also knew you wouldn’t stomach the life he could give you.

He remembered your face too well, that prom night when he saw you find out about who he really was. He always feared you finding out, he knew it would happen eventually but it did nothing to soften the blow, the look you had etched in his mind forever. He would see it when he closed his eyes every night, alone, ruling his empire.

He doesn’t answer you as he moves to the cut on your forehead, but you push him away, looking into his eyes as if he’d written the answers there.

“I really missed you,” you confess breathlessly, it had taken a lot of strength to say it. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

You can’t stop the tears welling up now but you don’t break eye contact, not when you needed to get this turmoil out of your chest.

“We’ve never spoken until tonight but I missed you, I looked for you every day but pretended I didn’t, I looked for you everywhere hoping to catch at least a glimpse, just something that didn’t make me feel like you weren’t real or something to tell me you were safe!”

You were weeping, and he wanted to wipe it all away, but he didn’t feel like he had the right to. Your words crushed him and he knew he deserved this feeling of anguish after making you feel it for so long.

He remembers the day he met you, how elated he felt in such a tiny body with such a big grin. He was so shy then, completely innocent to the world his father laid out for him, he couldn’t say a word to you. You looked at him with big eyes and an open mouth, not understanding the pull you were feeling, it was too soon, you both were so young. You were so pretty to him, like all the flowers that surrounded you both, he had to leave before he could hear your name but in his heart he called you petal. Even much later when he did find out everything about who you were, in his heart you were still petal, fragile in his world, he wouldn’t let you enter it.

He wanted to tell you how hard it was to stay away, how his body rejected the idea of being apart from you. He knew the pain it caused you both, but in his mind it would be worth it. You would live a safer life without him, and while it might not feel complete it was better than exposing you to the danger he could not leave. He hoped in his abstinence he would crave you less as time went on, but it never lessened, so he watched you from afar, making sure you were always safe.

“Petal,” he lets out a deep sigh, and your heart flutters at the sound, hoping you aren’t imagining the affection in his voice.

He doesn’t know what to say to comfort you, he never has before. In all the moments he’s interfered with your life to keep you from harm, he always walked away before he could give into the temptation of talking to you, how his tongue burned to ask you if you were okay each time and how he bit it to stop himself.

“You know who I am, and I am so sorry the universe picked the likes of me for someone as beautiful as you,” he holds your gaze with sincerity, you didn’t think that look could break your soul, but it does. You miss your boxy smiled boy, you both should’ve lived in that moment so long ago forever. In this world, soulmates were an ugly thing.

“I never wanted you to stay away Taehyung,” why did you have to say his name for the first time with such sadness? He smiles humourlessly to himself, if he thought the pain of staying away was unbearable, he didn’t know how to describe this new torture.

“Petal, I’m a monster,” he says disgusted with himself. He hated that this was what he was in front of you, the day he met you he wanted to become your prince and instead he became king of hell on Earth, a depth he would never let you reach.

“Did you ask me if I cared? Did you say a word to me before tonight Taehyung!”

“You didn’t need to tell me, I could see it on your face,” he scoffed. You didn’t expect the hurt to crack through his mask, but for a second you could see how deep it ran. A fear of rejection like your own, and you realised maybe you both hurt each other.

“I was sixteen Taehyung,” you say softly, not wanting to break the mask as much as wanting to take it off. “I was shocked, but then it passed and I put my faith in the universe because it wouldn’t have picked you if you weren’t made for me.”

It’s getting harder for him to keep his mask from slipping off, if only he were the type of man to deserve you, maybe then this wouldn’t be so hard.

“I was just waiting for you to come around,” you whisper. “I didn’t want to push you, so I waited because in my heart I knew one day it would be okay.”

“I don’t think that days today Y/n,” he says bringing it all to an end and shattering any hope you had left. He watches you begin to cry painfully, your soul anxious at being hollow once again. It becomes too much and you curl into yourself, digging your nails into your skin, not letting yourself watch him as he gets up and leaves you alone once again.

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The Return of an Empress | End

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut, Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: 21.9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story. Multiple people crying in this one.

Masterlist

<< previous chapter | ♡ | 

Morning light comes peeking through the curtains of your window while you remain curled in bed contemplating whether you want to be a productive member of society or not.

It’s been almost a year since you returned back to your world and you’ve never been the same. You tried getting into online dating but no one could ever come close to the seven men you’ve fallen so hard for. 

Every man you meet you can’t help but compare them only to get disappointed in the end when they don’t meet your standards. It’s been hard getting used to living here again after living in what you would consider your dream world. 

An annoying notification dings in your phone, prompting you to groan knowing you have to leave soon. And so you reluctantly get out of bed, letting out a tired yawn as you stretch your body. You make your way to your closet and grab a change of clothes to start your day.

Heading to the kitchen, you find Seulgi leaning against the counter staring out of the window in a daze. It’s a Sunday morning so she doesn’t have work today. 

“Morning,” you say. The girl greets you right back with a small smile.

“Mornin’,” she takes a sip of her tea, taking notice of your clothes, “what’s the plan for today? Going out?” A slight hopeful tone in her voice, pleased to see you’re getting out of the apartment.

You nod your head, “I’m meeting with Adrien over coffee, you wanna join us?” you offer, but she just shakes her head.

“I’m meeting with my brother for lunch, but do tell him I said hi and that I miss him,” she answers, taking another sip of her tea. 

You nod your head, you were planning to do that anyway without her even telling you. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Since the return, she made it a habit to ask how you’ve been, never once missing a day. You’re grateful, but sometimes you aren’t in the mood to be talking about your feelings. 

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the world’s a little bit brighter now 🤍

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cry me a river | the thorns of a rose

— summary: loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. and the reapers’ loyalty lies much deeper than that

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 5.6k

— warnings: mentions of breaking, emotional trauma, implied sexual harassment/abuse, implied forceful age-gap relationship (we're getting to more dark stuff here so please read at your own discretion, PLEASE)

— part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11

— masterpost

“They say she’s the actual Grim Reaper herself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“She’s on a rampage, going around killing anyone who has done her wrong. She’s already taken out Gwon Daejung!”

“Grim reapers go around collecting souls, she’s out here trying to collect the heads of all her enemies!”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

“That monster killed her own father to get the throne.”

“What if we’re next?”

Knock, knock, knock.

A click of the door opens and he stares in horror at the said Reaper who’s out to collect the heads of all her enemies. With a smirk plastered on her face, hands resting behind her, and a flicking shine from the scythe earrings she wears, he can feel the beat of his heart drumming hard against his chest.

“Hello there, Mr. Choi,” you greet with a sinister expression resting well on your face, “it seems death has just knocked on your door. Would you mind giving me the pleasure of taking your life?”

.

.

.

“Why did you call me, Namjoon? You do know that I’m a pretty busy woman, don’t you? I have heads to sever and hearts to stab out.”

“Seems you’ve become quite the bloodthirsty mobster.”

You shrug lightly at his comment, adjusting the black gloves in your hands that are tainted with blood. “Well, life is pretty cruel to women so there’s quite a lot of people whom I have to go after now that I have the power to do so.”

“This is why you killed your father off?” He asks, eyes narrowed at you who only seems to be paying attention to your gloves. “Now that I think about it, you say you’re out to kill all the people who have done you wrong. Was your father your first target in all of this?”

Your hands freeze in place and when you look up at him, those eyes of yours are as cold as a stone, showing no sign of weakness, no amount of emotions for him to try and see through your facade. He can’t read you.

“What are you talking about?” You feign a smile. “If my father never cared for me, would he have accepted me so easily when I returned home after divorcing you? Any sane mobster who’s thirsty for power would have never let that slide. Yet father welcomed me in very well with wide, open arms.”

“Fool,” you hear your father’s disdained voice in the back of your mind. 

“You’ve always been useless from the second you were born. For a moment I thought things were going well, finally made useful to me. But here you are, crawling right back and begging for forgiveness at the foot of your father. I told you to make yourself useful.”

No matter how foolish and stupid you were ten years ago, at least you understood what to do in order to keep the image of a happy family alive and well.

Divorcing Namjoon was one of the hardest decisions in your life but you were left with no other choice. Returning that ring, asking him for a divorce, even that moment of weakness where you asked them to give you a second chance, all of that was planned.

After all, divorcing Namjoon meant facing father’s wrath so you had to do it smartly, hence you asked him to sign a contract with you before you left, before the divorce was finalized. It was the only way you could get through to your father. He would be angry either way but at least then he didn’t have to worry about losing power.

Power was all father wanted after all, and you allowed him to keep that.

That contract saved you from potentially dying at your father’s very own hands.

“Open arms…”

You stare at Namjoon with a small, playful smirk, knowing he must be thinking back on his own father. “Envious?”

He sends you a glare and you look away with a shrug, amusement plastered on your face.

“Did all those silent vows of keeping each others’ secrets safe not matter after the divorce?”

“Of course it does!” You say at his suspicion on you. “You don’t really think I’m the type to go around spreading every traumatic story of you and the boys to the world just because we don’t care for each other anymore, do you?”

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Y/N.”

“Right,” you nod. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah? Anyways, what am I doing here again?”

Namjoon lets out a sigh and reaches from the back of his pants to hand you a simple envelope. You stare at it, blinking.

“If it’s a letter of some sort, you could have simply sent it through the mail, old man.”

“I figured you’d rather keep the envelope as is rather than having words painted on them.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s Jungwon’s.” You freeze and he takes a moment to look at the envelope before beckoning for you to take it once more. “One of the letters was meant for you.”

A letter was written for you? What for?

If Mister Butler had anything to say to you, why didn’t he just speak them to you when he had the chance? Perhaps it’s something secretive that he couldn’t say aloud?

No, can’t be. All his letters were basically his diaries but, why would one of them be addressed to you?

You pull the gloves off your hands, not wanting anything to taint the envelope before taking it from Namjoon. “Did you read it?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“Those are your initials, yes?”

They are.

“The content of the letters addressed to you,” you look back at him, wondering, “what were they about?”

“His daily life. A diary, as you said.”

“He never mentioned anything about what he was doing at the Reaper’s manor in the first place?”

Namjoon shakes his head, a sigh leaving his lips. “Nothing of that sort. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much with my investigation.”

“Surely your father had some answers.”

“Anything that has to do with my father has already been searched and burned away. None of them ever mentioned anything about my brother. It’s almost as if it disappeared along with him, as if my father knew.”

Did his father get word of Mister Butler’s death? He must have, hence all evidence about what he had done were all destroyed for Namjoon to never find out.

“When did my brother disappear?”

“The eighth of January,” you tell him. “I was nine.” You were hurt that night, severely injured. You don’t remember exactly the events that went by, just the fact that the next thing you knew, you were standing in front of the man you loved so much, staring into his unblinking eyes. “He never said goodbye and after that night, I never saw him again.”

“Something must have happened.”

Yeah, your father killed him and blamed it all on poor little you.

“Well, I have to go now,” you say as you turn around and begin to walk off, “as I said, I’m a pretty busy woman.”

“Y/N if you know anything—”

“I got into an accident that night, Namjoon, so I don’t recall much of what happened.”

“Then those workers—”

“Are dead,” you say. “I killed them all.”

You hear him let out a frustrated sigh. “Honestly, you’re too impulsive. If one of them were still alive, they’d know what happened and have better intel than what we have now.”

“Well,” you shrug, “even if one of them were still alive, those workers didn’t really pay much attention to Mister Butler. To them, he was just another one of them, and if someone disappears out of nowhere, they’d only think what they know.”

Any sane worker would think they’d died at the hands of the leaders of the mafia they’re working in.

In Jungwon’s case, it was exactly that. No exception.

“See ya.”

With that, you walk off without looking back again, the letter tightly grasped in your hand.

.

.

.

You stand alone in the garden of the greenhouse, eyes staring blankly at the red roses right before you. With a white suit on, your overcoat drapes on your shoulder as you cross your arms against your chest, the gloves gone as blood still stains your clothing from your previous endeavor.

You don’t care to clean up just yet.

The rose bushes intrigues you as you stare at them, a reminder of someone you used to know.

“The roses remind me of you, Y/N.”

“...Why is that, sir?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh at the title you call him by, but falls understanding that no matter how much he asks of you, you’d never call him by name. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t wish for a close relationship, my dear?” He asks, a small pout glanced your way. “Despite the fact that we were almost engaged?”

You don’t answer his question, giving him anything but a blank stare. It’s all he’ll ever see from you, all you will ever show him. He will never witness your anger, your sadness, your happiness, or any emotions out of you.

Relationships do not matter to you, after all, he’s just another pawn for your father.

“Why do the roses remind you of me, sir?” You speak as if reading off a script; emotionless, robotic.

His brows furrow slightly but he’s used to this. “You’re pretty and you look innocent and sweet and precious, but anytime anyone tries to get any close to you,” he holds his hand out to caress your cheek, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as he flashes you a small smile, “you will put up a guard and have your thorns protect you. They are your walls, aren’t they?”

“I haven’t hurt you in the slightest, sir.”

He chuckles. “But you resent me, don’t you?”

“I do not hold any feelings towards you.”

“...Right.” He looks down at your figure, the way you sit on the bed obediently, and will not move unless instructed otherwise. You dress in a silky nightgown, one of the straps fallen from your shoulder, and he takes his hand from your face to trace over one of the visible scars held against your skin. You say nothing, you do nothing, and despite his gentle touches, you feel nothing.

He watches you as if trying to monitor your reactions, and when you give him nothing to see, he trails down to your hand and gently takes hold of it.

“You may not hold any feelings towards me but…” he traces the purple ring around your wrist, “you resent my father, do you not?” You say nothing so he goes on. “I may not know you as well as I hope to, Y/N, but even I understand that a lady would never want a man she doesn’t desire to touch her whether in a precious hold or not. You come here, walk into a man’s room whether you like to or not, just like an obedient puppet, and do nothing to go against your father’s words. So whether it’s me touching you or my father…you will not speak up against it.”

So he knew of his father’s doings, yet the closer you watch him, you realize that he’d only learned of that fact recently. Your potential fiance, despite the whole ordeal being to his benefit, has never once taken advantage of you. He holds onto his morals, a man of principles, and when he finds the truth of your relationship with your father, he expresses opposition.

But the two of you are one and the same, living a similar life.

He cannot go against his father, just as you cannot go against yours.

You’re both far too weak against the men of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, almost a whisper, and you see the way he tries to hold onto his anger for you, the way his hand trembles slightly as he does his best not to hold onto your hand too tight. As if afraid he’d hurt you.

He reminds you of someone, but you don’t wish to remember so you look away, not wanting to see that little spark in his eyes.

“I had no reason to.”

When you say that, he looks back up at you, a flash of hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “No reason?” He scoffs. “You have purple bruises on your wrist and you’re saying you had no reason to tell me these things? My father did this to you, Y/N, and I can only imagine what other horrible things he’s done to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You look off to the side, taking your hand from his hold to look out at the window where a bird perches on the tree just outside. “In the end, we can do nothing.”

He hates how right you are, and hates the way you seem to shiver slightly from the cold, goosebumps forming along your skin, yet you say nothing against your pain. You do not care for your well-being, and you guess by now he’s probably realized you’re already broken.

A broken doll for your father to use at his disposal.

You hear him let out a grunt of anger yet when he slips your strap back onto your shoulder and holds the blanket over you, his actions are as gentle towards you as ever.

“When you decide to let your thorns be known to the world, I hope you can come after my father and kill him yourself.” He stands from the bed, going for the door but not before looking back at you for one last thing. “I will wait for you until then.”

How long has it been since you heard those words fall from his lips? It was the last conversation you had with the man, before he went away and did all that he could to drive the relationship between your gang and his to fall apart.

You’re not sure how he did it, but he somehow made it possible for the two of you to never see each other again, and in doing so, saved you from having to see his father ever again.

He was different from Ying, because while Ying always watched you get belittled and hurt and went to console you afterwards, the second he found out the truth, he did all that he could to at least save you from one less burden to carry.

He could do nothing about your father, but he took his father away for your sake.

The roses remind you of him, yet despite the little moments of good memories you have with him, they will always be overshadowed by all the things his father has done to you.

And the longer you stare at the roses, the more you wish to cast the memories away, the more you wish to never remember his face, his voice, and the way he held you.

You feel disgusted.

Perhaps if I touch them…maybe the pain will take over the pain of having to remember him.

You hold your hand out as if in a daze, a chant repeating in your head to try and convince you that marking yourself with physical pain will give you a chance in forgetting the past pains.

Hurt me hurt me hurt me. Let me forget.

You feel your teeth clenching, brows knitted, and just as your hand is about to grab a handful of the rose bush filled with thorns, someone grabs ahold of your hand with a force, stopping you mid-way.

“Please don’t touch the roses, all the plants here are important for the antidotes and poisons we work so hard to create.” It’s Han, one of the young researchers working alongside Yeonjun. He watches over the greenhouse, keeping the plants well-fed and healthy, always holed up in here to help aid the young genius hacker in his researches.

You know just how important each and every plant here are, yet it doesn’t stop you from the hypnotized state you’re in.

You ignore his touch and warning, further hoping to grab a fist full of thorns.

“Boss, please.” Han’s voice fades into the distance as you see nothing but the thorns before you. “Boss-”

“Y/N.”

Someone rips your attention from the flowers, hands held onto both your shoulders, forcing your body to turn their way, and that’s when you seem to come back to your senses.

“..Mingyu.”

“Have tea ready,” your second in command orders to Han, who in turn nods and walks off, knowing Mingyu always knows what to do.

“I’m fine.” You push him off you to turn from the flowers, a bit weak in your legs, and when he sees that, Mingyu reaches out to help you keep steady.

“I guess we have our next target, huh?” One look at you and the flowers and he understands in an instant. “Yuna will be happy.”

“Yuna’s happy with everyone we face.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “can’t really blame her.”

“Forget it,” you begin to walk off without his help, towards the bench just under the wisterias to take your seat. “I don’t want to face them just yet.”

Mingyu watches you with an observing gaze, and when Han returns with the tea, he lets out a sigh when you sip the drink to help you calm your nerves. The more people you go after, the more drained you become, and the more hysterical your state grows. He can’t blame you, after all, these are the people who have done you so wrong in the past, leaving you with scars both physically and mentally.

“Alright,” he says upon your orders when you give him the cup after a good couple of gulps, body laid over to rest your head against the pillow that’s already there for you when you wish to take your afternoon breaks. When your eyes start to droop, he takes a step to the right to block the glaring sun filtering into the greenhouse.

And Mingyu stays there watching after you like a personal knight whose only job is to watch over and protect the princess.

He hates every second of seeing you suffer all alone.

.

.

.

“The longer you keep this up, the harder it’ll be on your body.” When you look up at him from your cup of tea, Namjoon goes on. “Going after the people that’s pissed you off isn’t an easy job. Not only are many of the people that belong to the shadows tough but they do crazy things to one’s mind as well. You’re a victim to the shadows both physically and mentally.”

“Get to the point, Namjoon.”

“You need to slow down, take a break,” he says, “before you break.”

Break.

Hah. What a strange word.

“You needn’t worry about that, I’m already a broken doll.” It’s such a simple sentence that leaves your lips, as if you were speaking about the weather. You show no amount of emotion, eyes as dead as they were the first time he saw you again after ten whole years.

But even then, your ex-lover can see how drained you are by all of these endeavors. You’re stubborn, refusing to admit to the truth, but he knows just how tired you must be both physically and mentally. What if one day you go too far and there’s no one to save you from the drowning?

“I’m serious,” he states against your protest. Namjoon may not understand what happened through the ten years of your disappearance, the extent to which you were hurting, but even he knows just how much it has affected you.

After all, no sweet person can ever turn dark and emotionless without reason.

“I want to get rid of them as soon as possible.” You look up at him from the hood of your lids, taking a sip of the tea that’s been served for you. You were never really one who desired coffee, and ever since Yeonjun joined the gang, all that’s ever helped to calm your nerves were his tea. “You understand how that feels, don’t you?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything but you can see the answer in his hesitation.

“So whether you want to stop me or not, I’m not going to rest until they’re all dead. I can’t.” Because your body refuses to let you. Each time you rest your eyes, nightmares will plague your thoughts, and unless your Reapers are there to help you through the episodes, you can never calm from the fear.

Everything scares you the more people you face, the world closing in, the walls suffocating you. Every second you face them, it feels as if your lungs are weighed by a heavy boulder, refusing to let you breathe. But you’d rather face these disgusting, vile creatures, than to know that they still live, walking the Earth as if all the things they’ve done to you is something that should not be considered a crime, as if they had simply crushed a bug with their foot.

You hurt from their pains while they hold their heads up, laughing in their own freedom.

You want your own freedom.

You need it, you crave it.

And you can never achieve it unless they’re gone from the torture they do to your head.

“Fine.” Namjoon knows he can’t stop you, so he relents. “Who’s your next target then?”

A man you’ve been avoiding.

You put the teacup down, resting against the chair, and cross a leg over the other. “I’ll need your help again, if you’re up for it.”

“And this is?”

“Ever heard of the Black Rose?”

He thinks over the question, a slight purse of his lips. “Isn’t that the gang that left for London? They were faring well here so no one knows why they left when the streets of London is much harder to gain control of.”

“They left because of me.”

He looks at you, blinking. “What?”

“The son, Hwang Hyunjin and I had somewhat of a relationship,” you explain. “I wouldn’t say we were close nor would I say we were friends but he supported me as a friend would. He cared for me.”

Namjoon’s brows knit in just the slightest way. “If he cared for you, why would he leave Korea?”

“He cared for me, that’s why he left.”

Hyunjin was the only decent human being that did the things he did in a respectable and accurate manner among all the mafiosos you’ve met. Even though you could never escape the abuse and pain, he still did you a favor by getting rid of someone who would have traumatized you even more than the man already had.

“So then, if it isn’t Hyunjin you’re after, who is it?”

“Who else but his father?”

“You’re walking into dangerous territory, Y/N.”

“Isn’t everything we do dangerous?” You flick your hair to lay behind your back, not wanting to back down. “He has more power in London than you but that doesn’t mean you aren’t influential there either. That’s why I need you on this mission. Hyunjin will be on my side, as well as you. I’ll need both of you to take Mr. Hwang down.”

“How are you so sure Hyunjin will be on your side? This is his father we’re talking about.”

“And you understand just how broken that relationship can be in this world.” Because his own father was never one to care for him. “It may be different from yours, Hyunjin and his father trust each other, but at the end of the day, he left Korea all for me.”

He left Korea for you.

Namjoon wonders what sort of relationship the two of you had, and the reason why the Black Rose left for you.

When he stares at you from across the table, he sees the determination in your eyes, as well as the trust you hold for a man he does not personally know. So you do know how to trust people outside your gang after all.

“Fine.” There’s no reason to refuse you. At the end of the day, he still needs intel on his brother.

With a satisfied smile resting on your face, you stand from your seat. “Great. I’ll see you in London next week.”

.

.

.

“You’re planning to what?” Mingyu is quick to look at you with alarm, his expression screaming protest. “Live out the fantasy he so wanted long ago?” He repeats your words with a disbelief scoff. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“You have no right to protest.”

“I’m your underboss, I have every right to protest.”

“Please my lady, can’t you think of something else?” Yuna speaks up, her lips forming into a tight frown when she looks your way.

“This is the only way to take down Hwang Leehyun and you know it,” you say against their dismay, standing firm in on your decision no matter what they say. “That man thrives off control and if I can manipulate him into thinking he can take me, we’ll have our score settled and I’ll have taken another man down. He has no reason to suspect me.”

“And if it breaks you?”

You laugh sarcastically at Mingyu’s words, a dark chuckle leaving your lips. “How do you break again after you’ve already broken? But then again, perhaps you’re right. A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”

“Boss—”

“But I don’t care for that,” you cut him off, the only emotions detected in your eyes are filled with rage and anger. “This is the path I’ve chosen for myself, so whether you like it or not, I will never stop until every last one of them are dead. You have chosen to follow me, do so in silence.” 

With that, you turn your back on your Reapers and they know that no matter how against they are with your plans, once your mind is made up, you will never go back on your words.

“And if something goes wrong when I’m with him, I expect you to do nothing.”

You leave them with no room to protest and they can do nothing but watch you from where they stand, a heavy silence hung in the air because they know more than anyone that stopping you is something that can never be done. You live to seek revenge and you will stop at nothing.

Even if that means meeting death on its way.

Even if it will break you even more.

“Boss?” You don’t hear his call even when he runs up to stand before you, an alarming concern marking his features. All you do is stand there, as still as a corpse, with your head lowered and your eyes staring blankly at nothing before you. 

Mingyu sees the state you’re in; dressed in a white silky dress, spaghetti straps hanging off your shoulders, disheveled hair, with possessive markings splattered around your skin.

He can feel his hands trembling into a fist as he holds himself back, knowing that whatever he does, he can never let his anger get the best of him. So he settles with trying to reach out for you. You don’t see him, you feel numb and dull, like a living corpse, but when his hand holds out to touch you,

You flinch.

And Mingyu freezes.

His hand hovers in the air, frozen in time, and no matter what anyone tells him, he wants to storm out here right now and land his fist on the very man that did this to you, no matter the consequences.

But he has to consider the consequences because if he tries to do anything to go up against the people that have done you wrong, you will face the consequences and he knows more than anyone that that must never happen.

He wants to protect you yet why is this the only way he can save you?

Why can’t he do more?

Mingyu balls his hand in the air and settles it back to his side, turning to the Reapers that have come along as he clenches his jaws, keeping his emotions at bay.

“Yuna, Dasom. Get her a blanket, clean her up, and take care of her. Make sure she eats well.”

He only addresses the girls and they know. They know why.

Because normally you would never flinch in the presence of Mingyu. Never.

“Yes, Mingyu.”

“Yes, Mingyu.”

Yuna hurries to grab a soft blanket and drape it over your shoulders, hiding your revealing skin, and the two of them lead you away from the small little group. You follow willingly without protest, as if you can’t even speak, as if your only purpose in this world is to obey and survive.

Right now you cannot make a decision for yourself, right now you’re numb, you’ve locked yourself out from the world, eyes nothing but dull, empty sockets. Right now you are lost.

Lost in your broken, empty mind.

This is your body’s way of protecting yourself.

Yuna turns to Mingyu, her hand held against his shirt to grab his attention, and a tremor falls in her hand as her grip holds tight.

“I want to save her,” she whispers, a voice barely audible but they hear her. It is a wish they all hold dearly in their hearts. “She…she can’t face him again, Mingyu, not in the same way. Or else…or else…”

“She gave us her command, we can’t go against that,” the second in command states, his emotions held back despite it all. “But there are some people who aren’t obligated to go against her.”

“You don’t mean..”

“They’re the only ones we can rely on to bring Y/N back,” he says despite Dasom’s disapproving glare. “At least we can trust in Jung Hoseok, if anyone.”

.

.

.

“I ask that you protect her well.”

Namjoon sits in his chair, a silent stare at the man who bows before him, and when he looks over at Hoseok, the older man just spares him a silent glance, unsure of what was going on as well.

“You don’t think those are the obligations between two allies, do you?”

“I’m serious,” Mingyu says, his words firm and heavy without an ounce of jest in them. “This mission may as well be one of the most difficult ones my boss will have to face, yet I am not allowed to interfere with her plans.”

“And why is that?” Seokjin asks.

“Because she knows that if I were to be there with her, I may as well stop her and in short, ruin the plan of revenge. Whatever you do, do not stop her, however…” he holds his jaw in, fingers held in a tight fist behind him, “save her…if it so gets to that point.”

The man before them is a man who’s been through a lot, who watched over you and cared for you, a man who truly hopes for nothing but the best out of you. He frets over your safety, concern clearly marked on his face, yet as your subordinate, he is obligated to heed your every order.

“If you’re that worried about her, why don’t you try harder to have her revise her plan? Or better yet, persuade her to leave this be?” Namjoon asks, genuinely curious about his strange resolve.

“Because this is the only way I can save her,” Mingyu says, his expression a sharp, piercing seriousness. “She may be impulsive at times, maybe even bloodthirsty and cruel in her ways of only seeking revenge towards the people that have wronged her, but Y/N’s ambition lies in wanting to seek peace. You and I will never understand her heart but she holds her resolves and she holds her morals and I have every intention of giving everything I can to see her ambition come to pass. I believe that is why I follow her. She has saved me so I will do all that I can to save her. And if saving her means stepping back and having you take care of things for the moment…I hold no protest.”

So that’s how it is.

Both Mingyu and the rest of the Reapers refuse to stand in the way of your dreams. They have sworn themselves to you, from whatever point you’ve met and managed to steal their hearts and souls.

You have a way with people. Even back then when you held no ambitions in killing people, the authority you held had never dissipated. There’s something about you that people can never forget, no matter who they are, and you will always leave an impression in the end.

The Reapers now, your Reapers, are different from any other followers they have ever seen before. They heed your every word, holding them as if they were laws of the world, never to go against you, coming to you the instant you call their names. Loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. And the Reapers’ loyalty lies much deeper than that. This isn’t just simple loyalty, this is something much deeper than they can ever imagine. 

You saved him, Mingyu stated, which meant you saved the rest of them as well, and in turn, they’ve vowed their lives to you.

“So as someone who cares deeply for Y/N and as people who once held her at the center of the world,” he looks at them with a pointed stare, eyes refusing to look away or even blink, “don’t you think you should at least give her what she deserves?”

What a loyal companion you have.

💜💜💜

cry me a river | the black rose

— summary: he loved you once, so hard, but taehyung has no right to begin caring for you now

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.5k

— warnings: implied sexual harassment/abuse, implied forceful age-gap relationship, mentions of predatory actions/character

— PART 12 / previous part / masterpost

Taehyung watches you with a silent gaze as you stand by yourself, eyes closed against the softness of the night breeze as it flows past you in a neat manner, allowing your hair to fly freely. You sparkle well despite how the darkness of the night, but he guesses he has the street light of the London streets to thank for.

You don’t say anything nor do you do anything to make a move despite the clock ticking at every second. It passes and passes while you stand there, no words leaving your lips.

You’re calm. Too calm.

And something tells him soon enough, it won’t be like this for some time. Perhaps that’s why you’re taking in the calm, the silence, and the peace, before you have to walk into a battlefield.

The calm before the storm, they say.

And although he hasn’t the slightest clue as to what could go on when you make your move, a part of him carries the fear your second in command had when he approached them, asking for them to protect you well now more than ever.

The fear of the unknown.

You’re too calm.

“There is a chance he may invite me to stay at his place,” you speak into the silence, eyelids fluttering open as you turn your head to look back at him from over your shoulder. The golden lights of the lampposts highlight your features well and Taehyung’s brows furrow slightly upon your words. “I won’t deny his invitation for that matter.”

“What?” He blinks, confused. He licks his lips, wondering what’s going on in that head of yours. “I thought your plan was to get him on his feet, make him think he’s got you in the palm of his hands.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Mr. Leehyun like pretty girls that don’t go against him. As long as I comply with him, he won’t think anything’s up and I’ll be able to make my move. Shall we go?”

You begin to walk forward but Taehyung hesitates.

“Wait, Y/N,” he stops you, expression falling into a conflicted concern. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Don’t stop me,” you tell him straight and clear. “Otherwise you aren’t allowed to follow me.”

Mingyu said to never leave you out of sight, to never leave you alone with Leehyun, and Namjoon allowed his words to take precedent in this situation. He doesn’t know the situation, none of them do besides Mingyu and the rest of the Reapers, but even they can tell this mission may take a wrong turn somewhere down the line.

You told Hoseok you were prepared for your death, that you didn’t care to stop so as long as you got to your enemies. Even if you had to die for your revenge, you weren’t going to ever stop until every last one of them was buried underground.

Just how much have these people done to you to make you break like this?

“Come on, Taehyung. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to mistake that look as you worrying for me.” You hold out your hand for him to take and although he does so with hesitation, Taehyung falls in order with you, knowing there’s no other choice.

When you walk into the grand room in an unfamiliar environment, the way you hold your head up without the slightest hint of hesitation or fear in your eyes, each step bold and long, it’s almost as if you belong right here in this light.

Nothing about you screams out of place and Taehyung guesses you’ve come to blend in well into the crowd without completely becoming invisible or taking everyone’s attention. Just the right amount that lets the people here know you are a mafia’s daughter who can hold her ground.

He doesn’t like being out in public nor does he like the attention but he guesses if he’s with you, it’s only inevitable.

You’re beautiful after all, no one can deny that.

“There’s our target,” you say in a soft murmur, eyeing a familiar-looking man who now holds a bit of grey hair after years of absence.

You falter for a moment, frozen in spot, and before Taehyung can ask about anything, you’re back to your bold and cold demeanor, eyes vanished of emotions as you lead him along to walk towards the man you have always dreaded to face. It’s as if that small moment of hesitation had never occurred.

Hyunjin isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Mr. Hwang,” you call out in a silky tone, leaving the hand of your ex-lover to flash a small little smile towards the older man.

He, who had been talking to two other women, turns at your call, his eyes bulging slightly at the sight of you.

That gaze of his always made you feel things.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten about me.” He turns from the ladies upon your words, a familiar flash glinting in his eyes as he meets your approach halfway. Taehyung follows you just behind, eyeing the whole exchange as Hwang Leehyun takes ahold of your hand and greets you with a kiss on the back.

“How could I ever forget a beauty like you?”

Taehyung frowns at his mannerism, already feeling uncomfortable.

“Father gave me a small little vacation so I decided to come to London. I’m glad to have met you in this little moment.” You lie so easily through your teeth, feigning innocence and sweetness, your smile kind and gentle but behind it all, Taehyung knows you must dislike all of this.

“It’s unfortunate our relationship had to cut off too soon but I’m happy to hear you still think of me.”

You grin his way, pushing past its strain. “You’re hard to forget, Mr. Hwang.”

That isn’t a lie.

“You are too.”

You look down at the way he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb with no signs of letting go anytime soon. In moments like this, you wish Mingyu was here to rescue you, to give you space, a bit of a breather. You have to fight hard to restrain yourself and not kill everyone on the spot because right now there is nothing else you want to do.

Just to forget. Just to get rid of it all.

But you know that if you were to lose control now, you’d lose. You can’t lose to Hwang Leehyun again.

Not again.

“You seem more easygoing, my dear.” You don’t flinch away when Leehyun reaches out to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, caressing you as if you were some sort of lover to him. “You smile more easily. You’ve grown more pretty. You’ve always been pretty but…something about you is different.”

“Does it please you?”

He laughs. “It certainly does.”

Right.

Unsure of the way things are going, Taehyung clears his throat albeit awkwardly but it catches the attention of Leehyun, who takes his hand from your face, allowing you to breathe a little better. You take a step back towards Taehyung, somewhat bitter yet thankful at the same time.

“This is father’s assistant acting as my bodyguard, Mr. Hwang,” you introduce with a lie. It’s a good thing Taehyung doesn’t go out often for his face to get recognized, unlike the other boys, hence you allowed him to follow you during this mission. It was probably the reason why they chose him in the first place. Namjoon always knows what to do in dire situations. “Unfortunately the more powerful father gets, the more enemy he has, hence he has to come along with me.”

Introducing Taehyung as your father’s assistant helps to give you more leeway, because in that sense, Leehyun won’t see Taehyung as an obstacle and won’t fall suspicious in the way he follows your steps. He’ll just think Taehyung’s here to keep an eye out for you in your father’s place and not someone who’s on your side and will interfere with his time with you.

“Your father is quite generous. His love for his daughter is immeasurable,” he acknowledges Taehyung for a split moment before turning to you once again. “If I had a daughter like you, I would spoil you to no end. It’s unfortunate the engagement with Hyunjin didn’t work out.”

You leave him with that; wanting more. So with a nod, you entangle your hand along Taehyung’s arm, a bidding goodbye on the tip of your tongue.

“I would love to talk more, but my friend here will be snitching to my father if I stayed up too late. If you will excuse—”

“How about staying at my place?” His suggestion isn’t unexpected, in fact, you knew it was coming. Still, you feign a small little blink of innocence. “I’m sure if you were with someone reliable, your father wouldn’t be able to complain.”

He holds his hand out for you and you can tell with the way the corner of his smile twitches a little and the small little glance made Taehyung’s way, that he holds some sort of feeling towards the way you hold onto your father’s so-called assistant.

You’d rather stay with your ex-lover but in such a situation, you decide to let your hand fall into the palm of Leehyun’s hand.

“Then, please take care of me, Mr. Hwang.”

The way he squeezes your hand and the way his eyes flashed with a bit of sinister makes you sick to the stomach.

.

.

.

“What were you doing with a man like him?”

You look at Taehyung through the mirror of the vanity before you as you sit on the cushioned seat, a hairbrush flowing through your hair under the dim light of the room.

He doesn’t understand and perhaps he never will, but it doesn’t matter to you either way. All he has to do is stand still, pretend to be your bodyguard, and follow your lead without doing anything to stop you. That’s all he has to do.

But something concerns you with the way his brows crease a bit deeper than how they usually are, the way his nose flares up, the way he rests his hand on his hips, pacing back and forth as if he cannot fathom what reason you could possibly have to stick around with a man like Hwang Leehyun.

What were you doing with a man like him, he asks?

“Surviving,” you answer simply, leaving it with just that.

He can interpret it in any way he wants, you don’t care either way. And because you decide not to say anything any further, it frustrates him even more.

So you let out a sigh and turn from the mirror, putting the brush down against the desk. “It will do you well to calm down and get some rest. Stop pacing back and forth, you’re going to tire yourself out and—”

“Y/N, I know you.” You frown at his words. “You’re someone who won’t cry out or complain or give the whole truth to something because you hate looking weak in front of others and I don’t know whether you’re scared or too prideful but the situation here clearly indicates that—”

“Taehyung.” You cut him off with a simple call of his name, tone falling a little more low and dangerous than how it was mere seconds ago. He stops speaking, standing still in place as if it were Namjoon speaking to him. You fling a leg over the other, eyeing him down. “It’s been several years since we’ve parted,” you remind him, “do you realize how much a person can change in ten years? You may think you know the girl I was then, and perhaps you do, but I’m not who I was anymore. I’ve changed, and who knows, I may even be just as sick, if not more, than the man who escorted me right into this very bedroom.”

You stand from the chair to walk on over to the bed without another word, leaving him lost in his thoughts as you give him not another spare glance.

.

.

.

“Y/N…..?”

Hyunjin stares at you with small, widened eyes, his mouth left slightly agape, frozen in place after he walked in through the entrance to his manor. Of all the people he expected to see walking back to his house, he never sought out to find you; a woman who was almost his to claim but decided to give up on when he knew you could never love him all the same.

You had no room for him in your life and he accepted that, freeing you from one of the chains holding you down for you to reach your potential. His sincerity to you was in the form of leaving; saving you from his father.

And now here you are, years later, standing before him with a small smile plastered on your face, the glint in your eyes different from what he knew previously.

You’re different from who he saw years ago, an aura overbearingly strong as you stand beside his father without the slightest hint of flinch.

And he realizes your purpose in being here.

“Hyunjin,” his father calls to him, an easygoing lighthearted expression on his face, unaware of what meets him on the other side. Nevertheless, Hyunjin remains stoic as he continues his walk as if that moment of hesitation had never happened in the first place. “You remember Y/N, don’t you?”

“Who can ever forget Miss Y/N?”

“That’s right,” Leehyun chuckles and he catches the way his father places a hand around your waist, pulling you in close as if you were a lover he was introducing to his son.

What a sick bastard, especially knowing you were almost his son’s fiance.

“She’s on vacation,” he says as he looks down at you with a smile. You return one of your own and the blind father doesn’t suspect anything behind that glint. Hyunjin is disgusted at the sight he sees before him.

“..Is she?” He holds a hand out for you, eyes boring into yours with a piercing gaze when you glance back at him, a small secret stare exchanged for you to notice. He takes you from his father, allowing you to stand by his side instead and to Taehyung, it almost looks as if these are two men of equal standing fighting over the same woman. “What a pleasant surprise.” Hyunjin lets go of your hand but keeps you beside him nonetheless.

You notice his kindness. “It’s nice to see you again, sir.”

Leehyun looks at his watch impatiently upon your exchange with his son, keeping his cool. “Unfortunately I’ve got a busy schedule. Since you kids were almost betrothed to one another, why don’t you show her around town, Hyunjin? You did get along fine years ago.”

“Of course, father,” Hyunjin nods at the command, and before his father could try and personally bid you goodbye, he turns to you with a tight smile, blocking his father’s path as he holds out his hand for you again. “Why don’t we go now? I know a few good breakfast spots.”

You take his hand, nodding. “I should get ready first.”

“Of course.”

While ignoring Leehyun, Hyunjin leads you away from the entrance, not sparing his father another chance to speak to you again as he keeps his focus on you. It is until his father leaves does he let go of your hand, the formal smile dropping from his face.

You watch him as he takes a step away from you, cautious of your personal space as he takes a moment to bring his gaze down your body. Anyone else would think he’s checking you out but you know better than that. You hold out your hands before him, showing off your naked wrists at the furrowed brows and anxious twitch of his lips.

“He didn’t try anything on you?” Is the first thing he asks.

“I have a friend with me who refuses to leave my side,” you reply lightly, beckoning towards the other man in the room.

Hyunjin looks over to find Taehyung, who in turn narrows his gaze slightly with suspicion, and the two of them start off into a staring contest, both keeping up their guards against one another.

Taehyung’s face isn’t someone familiar to Hyunjin’s eyes, and he knows because throughout his times with you, the man had come to recognize your close aids, especially Mingyu and Yuna. You’re not one who will carelessly allow people by your side openly to anyone, which probably means that to some extent; you trust this man but he isn’t a part of your gang.

To Taehyung, Hyunjin’s probably another guy like Leehyun, but with the way he regarded you before his father and the way he keeps his space from you with caution, he guesses Hyunjin isn’t entirely a bad guy. Well, Namjoon did mention you said he had left Korea all for you so he can probably trust this man to an extent.

“Though his touches are indeed uncomfortable.”

Upon your voice, the two boys look away from one another, forgetting about their little silent disputing moment to draw their attention back to you, who places a hand on your waist, your lip taking a downturn with a disgusted frown resting on your face.

“There isn’t much to be done about that, however. I knew what I was getting into.”

Hyunjin has an expression of guilt though you’re unsure as to why. Perhaps he feels responsible in some ways though you’ll never blame him for what his father has done. Just because one may be blood-related to someone doesn’t mean they are one and the same.

Fathers are terrible human beings.

“I’m glad you can express yourself a little more now,” you hear him say, causing you to give a slight tilt of your head his way. Hyunjin chuckles as if recalling some memories, and with a small cautious glance Taehyung’s way, he continues with a fond smile your way. “You used to allow anything and everything happen to you without complaints.” Taehyung stands there, listening silently with furrowed brows. “You were almost lifeless then.”

You don’t flinch away from his touch when he reaches out to gently brush away a few stray hairs from your face. He gives you an expression that speaks “yet you’re still hurting, aren’t you?” and you don’t reply, eyes falling to the floor at the memories.

Taehyung’s here so you can’t let him know that the reason you’re able to express yourself a little more is because your father’s dead. Now that he’s gone, you have freed yourself just a bit, and although life hasn’t completely gotten better, in some ways your shoulders are less heavier than they were before.

“Is—”

You give him a look, eyes staring down at him to not say anything any further, and you guess he can take the hint that although you trust Taehyung, there’s only so little he knows.

Taehyung stands a bit envious at how well Hyunjin can read you, as well as the secrets he knows that Taehyung will probably never come to know. You share a past with one another, and although Hyunjin implied you didn’t keep a close relationship with the man, the fact that you can be like this with him now tells him everything.

In the three years he spent with you, it almost seems as if those years never existed, because the person he sees now and the person he saw then make him realize that in the end, they never did know you, did they?

You have your secrets, they all did, but unlike them who had gradually let their walls down and allowed you to see their vulnerable selves, you kept the walls up; steady and thick.

On days you’d cry, show your weakness, lean on them when you’d need it most, but as he watches the exchange between you and Hyunjin, Taehyung can only see that no matter how much you loved them then, there was always a part of you who kept yourself a secret from them.

You don’t love Hyunjin, he knows you don’t, but Hyunjin knows a part of you that he will never come to know, and for that, a part of him feels a small ache in his heart.

“Would you still like to look around London?” Hyunjin asks you as he takes a small glance around the house. “I’m sure this environment doesn’t make you any less comfortable.”

You send him a small nod before excusing yourself upstairs to dress up in a better attire for the weather and Taehyung follows behind without a word.

.

.

.

“My father is dead.”

Hyunjin nods as the two of you walk side by side, Taehyung walking along somewhere else where he’s out of earshot but still allowed to keep an eye on you.

“I assumed so,” Hyunjin says without an ounce of surprise in his tone. “That’s why you look a little more free than you did then.” You don’t say anything to that but he continues anyway, used to your silence. “So you finally took the bullet to his head, huh? I was waiting for a moment to strike my own father and now that you’re here, there’s no more time to waste. How’re you planning on doing this?”

“I want to use you,” you say, stopping to look in his direction. “May I use you?” You ask him and Hyunjin looks down at you, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“If it helps you in any way.”

You nod at his reply, thankful, before you continue on your walk again. “Your father gets off on relationship dynamics where he’s in full control without having to share any of that power with anyone, that’s why he never cared for your mother, and that’s why getting close to him as a ‘significant other’ isn’t going to work.”

“You plan on becoming my fiancé,” he guesses at what you’re putting at, scoffing with disbelief when you confirm it. After finding out the deeds his father had done, Hyunjin was beyond disgusted, and hearing it still makes him boil with rage thinking about it.

His father is a predator, a disgusting creep.

“It’ll allow him to put his guard down a bit, though it seems he may be a bit hostile towards your care for me.”

“Do you want me to tone it down a bit? Provoke him less?” He doesn’t want to, but if it helps your current situation, he’ll have to agree to your words.

“No.” Yet you say, firm in your decision with a glint of ire flickering in your eyes. “No matter what happens, don’t ever do all that you can to stop him from trying things with me. He’ll tolerate it because you play the role of the fiancé and he’ll know that he doesn’t have the right to take you from me. It will make him more upset and it will cause him to try more things with me in that case, but no matter how hostile and angry he may be with you, do not ever leave me to him. I want to use you as a fiancé and I want to use you as a shield, and if I can’t shoot him in the head like I plan to, if I somehow freeze up, I want you to end him for me. No one else.”

This is the first time you’ve ever asked Hyunjin for a favor, a silent cry for help, and he remembers the last memory he had of you; sitting on his bed, lifeless eyes staring only blankly as you had no strength in you to fight back against anything or anyone. You were a doll made for your father to use, and as long as he had no complaints about who or what was happening to you, you had no reason to act out, especially since the Reapers and the Black Rose were allied then.

It was your way of survival; playing the role of the puppet.

That was why he left, because he knew anything else would have drowned you further down and down the deep, deep ocean, weights of burdens and people holding your feet to keep you in. He knew what he did wouldn't save you but he wanted to take at least one weight away, just for you to float up from the sea at least just the slightest bit.

He had no power to go against his father, accuse him of all the things he’s done to you — he would have died — so he plays the role of an obedient child, just as you had, waiting to strike and turn against him during the right moment, so he wouldn't know it was coming. 

When Hyunjin looks at you, he can see traces of the war leaving you drained and exhausted. You’re tired of everyone and everything, yet you have no will to back down anytime soon. He knows you’ve gone and killed a few of your enemies already, his father is just another target on your hit-list, a passing moment, and you still have others to kill, others that have done you wrong. 

Still, no matter how much you hate a man, a part of you will still be afraid and your body knows it best.

“I’ll kill him,” he nods against your request, firm and unwavering. If you can’t take the shot, he’ll do it in your place.

You turn from his gaze at that, accepting his answer, when a small little droplet hits your cheek. 

You look up, aware of the small drizzling of the rain, when an umbrella is held over you without hesitation. You look over to find Taehyung, silent and observant, now by your side with an umbrella over your head. 

For a man who’s only pretending to be an assistant, he sure does his job well.

Luckily it’s only a small little rain, so even though you’re the only one with an umbrella held over your head (by someone else), you don’t care to move away from the opening. 

The other two don’t seem to mind either.

“I want this over with in less than three days if that’s alright with you,” you continue the flow of the conversation as if it never stopped in the beginning. “Any more stalling may cause me to go insane and I cannot afford that.”

“Of course.”

“Tonight we’re going to discuss the merging of our hands. I’ll push for the engagement party the day after tomorrow. I’m sure your father won’t mind the rush.” Of course he wouldn’t. “And as for the case of him not yet knowing of the news of my father’s death, as well as who killed him, I’ll take care of it. All you have to do is play the role of my fiancé. Once it’s all done and over with, I’m sure you will do well to hide all these secrets from the London mobs. Namjoon gave me the passageway into the streets, I need you to give me a way to leave it. Bring only the people that you can trust in to the party, anyone else will pose a problem to us.”

Years ago, Hyunjin would have never thought you to take up the reins and lead a whole mafia on your back, yet the way you speak without falter, a voice of authority and strength, he can no longer see that little girl who only followed behind the shadows of her father.

The puppet has become the puppeteer.

Or maybe you were the true puppeteer all along, waiting to strike.

No one saw it coming, you did well to follow in your father’s steps, and although many sacrifices were made, you’re now standing here right in the center, eyes unwavering and filled with a strength only someone who went through so much can hold.

He knows, however, that you can only grow stronger. You just have to sacrifice a few more of yourself in order to do so.

And for that, his heart hurts for you.

.

.

.

“Shall we become a family?” 

Of course it’s Leehyun who proposes the idea first. You know that in his mind, you’re only staying here for a limited amount of time before you return to your home, and he’ll no longer be able to see you. You were already taken away from him the first time, this time you can see in his eyes that he doesn’t plan to let you leave him just as easily as you did then. 

It’s sickening the way he looks at you.

You feign a smile, shyly glancing over at Hyunjin before returning your gaze back to him again. “Are you sure, Mr. Hwang? Would that be alright?”

He likes that expression on your face; shy, innocent.

You hate it.

“Of course it would. I’ve always wanted you.” You cringe at those words, holding your expression as he continues on. “You’d be the perfect daughter-in-law anyone would ask for. You’re sweet, obedient, and always listen well without ever acting out. You’re the perfect daughter-in-law.”

Daughter-in-law, not his son’s lover or his son’s fiancé but his daughter-in-law.

“You flatter me, Mr. Hwang.” You let your eyes flutter down to your lap, a hand against your hand to play the role of an embarrassed, shy, innocent girl.

You hear him chuckle in response and can feel the eyes of the two other men in the room. 

“Of course, we’d have to discuss this with your father.”

“Actually, I have some good news.” You turn to Taehyung and he hands you a letter that then gets slid across the table towards the older man. “Father did mention hoping to reconnect with you, said he wouldn't mind Mr. Hyunjin and me to be betrothed to one another again.”

“Really?” He raises a brow with keen interest as he takes the letter you’ve handed him. Of course, it’s a fake letter, one you had Mingyu write, feigning your father’s handwriting to make it real. Out of everyone who’s stayed by your side, Mingyu knows your father’s mannerisms and speeches best. 

“If it’s alright with you, would you like to return to Korea, Mr. Hwang?” You blink up at him with wide eyes, a hopeful gaze set in them, one you know he wouldn't be able to refute. 

Just on cue, you see that familiar glint in his eyes and almost falter in your stance.

You can feel your heart beating hard against your chest and it’s not the good kind of beating. It never is when it comes to Hwang Leehyun.

“Returning to Korea sounds like a good idea, wouldn't you think, Hyunjin?” 

Hyunjin, uncomfortable in his seat, nods with a tight smile. “Yes, father.”

“Unfortunately I have to return in a few days,” you speak up again. “Father mentioned an important mission I’ll have to take that will require my attention for some time. So if it’s alright with you, why don’t we hold the engagement party while I’m here?”

“Without your father?”

“He has already given us his blessings,” you push the conversation on. “Plus father has never been one to enjoy parties.”

“Of course,” Leehyun nods, pretending to remember that fact. You’re sure he doesn't remember much about your father. He’s only ever kept his eyes on you after all. “You’ve become quite the lady, haven’t you?” A small change in his tone, Leehyun reaches out to gently stroke your head. 

You smile meekly, eyes fluttering to the floor, feigning shyness when in reality, you’re just hoping to not meet those eyes of his. 

It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting.

You hate this.

“It’s getting late.” Hyunjin stands with a hand held out to you, breaking the moment. “I’ll take you up to your room.”

“She can go alone.”

“Ah, but would anyone want to leave such a pretty lady alone to herself? I am to become her fiancé soon after all.” 

“Right..” You hate the sound of his tone. 

“I am her aide,” Taehyung speaks up for the first time that night, “I can take her upstairs.” 

He holds his hand out for you, and although you hate every part of this, you’re relieved he can at least read the room and can step in when he needs to most. So you take up his offer, bidding the other two goodbye, and you return to the guest room with Taehyung by your side.

It is when the door closes do you finally drop your acting face down, eyes hardened with gritted teeth against your jaw. 

Your hands tremble with anger as you fist a hairful into your hands, touching where Leehyun had held you, breathing louder than you intend to. You pace back and forth, silent, as Taehyung watches on, understanding your frustration and turmoil.

“What is it?” He wants you to speak, to let it out. So you speak.

“I want to kill him,” you say, a whisper laced with ire. “I want him gone, I…How dare he touch me so carelessly? If I could cut his hand off — no — break each of his fingers off in the most slowest and cruelest ways, I…If I could just kill him right now, I’d—”

“Y/N.”

“But I can’t.” You run your fingers through your hair, making it disheveled on purpose. Perfection is what they want out of you. You hate perfection. “I have to be patient. I have to do this perfectly. If not, everything I’ve worked so hard for will go down the drain.”

“It’s okay. Just hold on a little longer.”

It’s alright.

You’ll be okay.

Just hold on a little longer.

Just a little longer.

“You can take it, can’t you? Just a little longer and it’ll all be over.”

Those words are mocking you, trying to tear you down to pieces, and as if Taehyung can understand just how much his words have affected you right there and then, he steps up before you, an expression of guilt. 

“I apologize. That must have sounded inconsiderate of me.”

Inconsiderate.

Ha. What a word. 

If Mingyu was here, what would Mingyu do? What would he say? He’d know just what to do, to calm your ire, to calm all that you are right now. 

Everything threatens to tear you down but you can’t even let it all go. You have to hold on because looking weak before Taehyung will only backfire on you. You can’t break down. Not now.

Not now.

Not now.

Where is the pillar that you need the most? Where is your calm?

You shut him out. 

That’s right. He wasn’t allowed to join you, otherwise he’d stop you from what you’re trying to do right now. None of them were allowed to come. If Mingyu had been by your side during all of this instead of Taehyung, you’re sure he would have had a few things to say by now.

You stare at Taehyung who stands before you, and although you know the rest of them must be listening in on everything that has happened so far, as well as this moment right here, you can’t help but ask; “May I see your hand?”

He falls confused, unsure of what you’re meaning to do, but he holds his hand out either way. 

You take ahold of it, touching the larger, callous hand, and run it against your head. 

You lean against the touch, closing your eyes, and Taehyung realizes this is the exact place Leehyun had held you previously. Mere moments ago. 

His brows furrow and he holds out his other hand before you. “Shall we try something?”

You open your eyes to find Taehyung lost in your memories.

“Shall we try something?” 

You tilt your head slightly to the side, lips pressed together with confusion. “Try..something?”

He sends you a soft smile, one that always seems to calm your heart. “Mmn,” he nods, “I think it can help you. Well, I hope it does.”

You’re still confused but place your hand in his either way. Taehyung holds it up so that both your palms face one another, as if you were looking directly at a mirror before you. But it isn't a mirrored version of you that you see before you. It’s Taehyung. Just Taehyung.

He looks at you differently from what your reflection shows. Rather than resentment and insecurity mirroring you, Taehyung watches you with a soft expression of love and care. 

“What did we say about hiding?” He asks gently with a kind smile. “I told you, didn't I? You can complain all that you want. You can lash out, throw a tantrum, scream, shout, just don’t hide.”

Don’t be silent.

It’s okay to scream.

“You’re hurting, aren’t you?” He leans in and you fall forward, meeting his forehead with yours in the middle. “It’s okay to rely on us, to rely on me. You don’t have to hide, Y/N, not when you’re with me.”

He intertwines your fingers together and…

…pull you in close, allowing your ears to rest against his chest, where the beat of his heart lies. It’s steady unlike your own and when you close your eyes to listen to his heartbeat, it’s the last thing you hear before your body falls limp a few moments later. 

Taehyung holds you up and carries you off to the bed, tucking you in before he leans away, watching you with an unreadable expression, all the while knowing he’s being listened in on by the rest of the crew back in their hotel rooms.

.

.

.

You wake up in the middle of the night just as you had done the night before. Taehyung wakes up along with you, woken by your moving presence who stands in the middle of the bedroom, aimlessly staring at nothing.

You look like a ghost, a walking corpse, and as he watches you from where you stand, your eyes aren’t as guarded as they always are when you’re wide awake. He knows you must be in a state where you aren’t fully awake but you’re not asleep either. It’s as if you can’t sleep well, and he wonders whether that’s because you’re placed in a different environment or if it has to do with something else.

“Y/N?” He calls your name, softly, but you don’t react one bit.

A blanket is wrapped around you, keeping you warm, but as you walk towards the light of the moon right outside the window, it falls from your shoulders, leaving them bare, causing you to shudder at the sudden coldness.

Taehyung walks over to pick the blanket up, a concerned furrow on his brows as he watches you, unsure of what’s going on. Last night you stood for a while before taking a seat on the floor, your head resting on the wall, and that was when you finally got some sleep, but tonight something tells him your body might not adjust to sleep as easily.

He remembers a time in the past when his heartbeat used to bring you to sleep but things are different now and although it helped for a moment, you’re awake now, unable to get a proper night’s sleep.

Just how much are you holding in that head of yours?

“Y–” He tries calling again when he hears something and senses another presence. 

Taehyung reaches for his gun when he finds a shadow against the window. They jump in without a sound, like an assassin made from the shadows, and when the person brings a finger up to their lips to keep him quiet, he realizes this is one of your Reapers.

Yuna, was it? Your blind shadow.

He puts his gun down but watches her with a steady gaze, unable to completely let his guard down.

She ignores him to turn to you, who stares blankly out the window, a small tilt in your head as you look up at the moonlight. Yuna takes the blanket from Taehyung to drape it over your shoulders. You take it as if possessed, covering yourself from the coldness, eyes still blank, lips sealed shut.

She stays beside you, silent, and reaches a hand out to you, weaving her hand through your hair. You welcome the touch without flinching away, a sign that tells Taehyung her touch is one you trust, one you are safe with, and one you have familiarized yourself with.

“Why are you awake, my lady?” She asks softly, her approach careful with a touch of tenderness. “You have a big day tomorrow and the day after that. You should be sleeping.”

You turn towards her voice, and something tells Taehyung you aren’t taking in what her words are saying, you’re just reacting to the sound of her familiar melody..

You’re still in a mindless state.

“Aren’t you tired?” Yuna asks, and upon those words, you lean in to rest your head against her shoulder. She takes your hand and you follow her willingly, allowing her to sit you down against a soft little seating in front of the window. She sits beside you, letting your head fall against her lap, and with the blanket held on top of your body, the silence of the night fills in as Yuna runs her hand through your hair, helping you to flutter your eyes closed and get a good night’s rest.

It remains quiet for a while before your breathing evens out and they know you’ve finally gone back to sleep again.

Taehyung wonders if you even realize this happens to you at night. Do you realize you wake up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep? And do you realize only your Reapers can get you back to your resting state without breaking you out of your mindless state?

You trust these Reapers, he knows, but just as their loyalty and allegiance to you runs deeper than the ocean, he wonders if you ever realize how deep your trust runs in them.

When he looks at Yuna who keeps quiet, something tells him they probably keep this part of you a secret to themselves.

“Your…blindfold,” he sparks up a conversation. Her hand pauses in the air for a split second at his voice. “..What happened to your eyes?”

Yuna remains silent for a bit, her hand continuing the gentle motion in your hair before she decides to entertain him the story.

“It was a price I had to pay for in order to stay by my lady’s side,” she says, her words filled with memories of those days. “Boss took them out herself and I willingly allowed her to. Our secrets would have been exposed otherwise and we couldn’t afford that.”

“So you became blind…for her.”

“For my lady, I’d do anything.” She tilts her head up and if she had eyes, Taehyung knows she would be looking straight at him. “This was the first test of loyalty between the first Reaper and the lady. The bond between the Reapers and the boss would not have been as tight if it weren’t for this sacrifice, because if I never lost my eyes for her…I’m sure she would have never been able to trust in anyone ever again.” He presses his lips tightly against those words, connecting what that meant. He knows she’s talking about their betrayal to you. “Once you pledge allegiance to someone, it behooves you not to betray the faith that they have placed in you. That is the agreement between the Reapers and the boss. Losing my eyes for her meant she could place her faith in me and the rest of us that came after me.”

Yuna; the very first Reaper who stood by your side and got you to earn her trust and restore some sort of faith in others again.

When they left you all alone during those days, it never occurred to him what would have happened as an aftermath of their actions. You had to pay the price, the consequences of their actions, and for the first time since the night he watched from the sideline as you bowed your head before them, Taehyung can feel a tinge of regret aching against his chest.

All the things you went through, he will never come to find out. The only person who knows and is even close to staying by your side through it all is the one before him, who holds her head up, unwavering loyalty not meant to ever break even past her death.

When he looks at the way she regards you, Taehyung feels so little against her despite his physical body much bigger than her.

Does he even have the right to regret anything? Who is he to only care after seeing you like this? Who is he to begin caring now when he realizes you’ve had it rough throughout those ten years after the divorce?

If he didn’t care when you graced them with your smile, what right does he have to begin caring when he sees the invisible tears left in the weight of your drained eyes?

He knows he has no right.

None at all.