Before I Leave You (Pt. 46)

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 46)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Jimin’s third secret is a little bit harder to explain.

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Guns, murder, assassin! Jimin, Hitman! Jimin, talks of death, brief suicidal ideation, desperate characters, angst, survivors guilt and regular guilt, unreliable narrator, stalking, smoking, speeding, flashback, Breif nudity, brief sexual content, mentions of knots,

W/c: 11.2k

A/n: so….this is a reveal i’ve had written and planned for the better part of 2 years and it’s up to you guys to decide if i pulled it off well enough! i might hold off on answering any spoilery asks for a little bit but i’d love to hear your guys reactions to this big reveal. i know i kinda fucked up the posting times in the Sneek peek but 😅 this chapter is probably one people will need to sit with for a while. 

Previous chapter - Masterlist

Hoseok’s going to fucking die.

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Eunoia // Ch. 24

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23

If you read this, please take some time to vote for BTS at the MAMAs on the Mnet Plus app and for the AMAs on the website VoteAMAs.com or on Twitter.

The taglist is now closed.

There was a deep lull after dinner, surrounded by fairylights on a late summer night with your bellies full of delicious food. You and Seokjin had cooked Michelin-level lasagna and for dessert the best custard tarts you had ever tasted. Seokjin truly was extraordinarily talented at cooking and baking. He could have been one of the best chefs in the world. The only obstacle was his DNA. There were no famous hybrid chefs, probably there were no hybrid chefs at all. For most people it was near impossible to look past the animal ears and tails.

“What are you thinking about?” Seokjin asked. You were the only ones left at the circular bench around the table. You were laying with your back against his side and your head on his shoulder.

“Nothing. Everything,” you said.

You couldn’t see his smile but you imagined it lighting up his face. Seokjin was always beautiful, he was one of the most beautiful people you had ever met. But when he was smiling, he was magical.

“You can never turn it off, can you?” he asked, bumping his hand with yours. You didn’t hesitate to take hold of it and intertwine your fingers. 

You looked up at the stars. Away from the heart of the city, they were bright and endless. “I don’t think that’s possible. It’s part of my charm.”

That pulled a laugh out of him and you reveled in it, in the ordinary sanctity of the moment. You took in the view of the garden and hybrids scattered around.

Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting by the pool, their feet dipped in the water, while Hoseok spoke excitedly about something moving his hands around, his tail wagging behind him. Namjoon listened to him like he didn’t want to miss a word falling from his lips. Jimin was curled around Yoongi on the grass, his eyes were closed and you could tell that he was purring without having to hear him. Yoongi was gazing at the stars peacefully, his arms at his sides. Further away, Jungkook and Taehyung were flipping through Jungkook’s latest sketchbook. Taehyung would stop him from turning the page sometimes to run his fingers over a sketch.

Taehyung was still reserved but he was slowly but steadily bonding with the other hybrids. Jungkook had happily told you that they had spent the afternoon painting together and proudly showed off their masterpiece, an artistic mess of colorful lines and funny faces that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a modern art gallery. You had said you were going to hang it up in the gallery unless Taehyung—whose cheeks had turned red for the first time—wanted to keep it. Timidly and in the best english he could master, he asked if he could take it to his room. While the lasagna was in the oven, you and Jungkook put it up on the wall above his bed.

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some horror smut with seokjin pls 😭 ppl barely ever write about him

tysm to my 🐋 angel for providing inspiration and supporting me... thank you to @baalsgurl1913 for reading through this and guiding me with her love. and thank you to @yoongsisbae for helping me choose the right direction <3 I am... so sorry for what I am subjecting y'all to lmao

pairing: jin x reader

genre: romance, ghost!au

warnings: mentions of blood and violence (not towards the reader), multiple deaths (+ major character death), implied murder, cheating (not by jin), supernatural elements (hauntings, afterlife), mentions of medication, manipulation and obsession, implied mental and physical torture (agsffhsgsh rip minho), angst, comfort, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, mentions of spanking, choking, creampie

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"Does it help?"

So cold. His hand felt so cold as it brushed through your hair.

"Does it help you move on? To feel like you've buried me?"

Unable to turn around and look at him - or whatever that thing was - you pulled your knees up to your chest and hid your face in them.

"I did," you whispered. To convince him or yourself, you weren't sure. "I did bury you."

Like a little girl, you gently rocked yourself back and forth on your bed, the chill of the dark room so severe it was making your fingers numb.

"Did you?" He hummed into your ear. "I'm right here."

You could barely hold yourself together, your heart sinking so low you feared it he could snatch it from under the ground and keep it there with him forever to rot.

"I promised I'd never leave you, didn't I?"

Despite the fear weighing on your chest, your eyes opened slowly. You woke up in the warmth of your sheets, your vision blurry with tears. Seeking comfort, or at least a confirmation you weren't alone, you turned towards your boyfriend and pressed yourself into his back. You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, the grief and the guilt of trying to move on. It didn't help. The bitter mixture only seemed to upset your stomach. With a sigh, you sat up and blinked, wiping at your eyes. Outside the window dusk was slowly fading. You reached for your phone, then planted your feet on the wooden floor.

6 am. Looked like you'd have an early start.

*

Grief was... loud. It demanded to be heard. He was sure even the dead could not rest in peace with how you tossed and whimpered in your sleep. He certainly couldn't. But the bastard lying beside you remained oblivious to your suffering. Pathetic, really. Jin couldn't believe this was the man you chose to replace him with. The man who got to see your pretty smile, go to sleep and wake up by your side - when he didn't deserve any of it at all.

He would have felt that way about anyone who went near you, of course, but there was no denying the fact that he held a special contempt for Minho. All those late nights out, the perfume he smelled of when he came home. Surely you weren't that blind? Surely you could see that he wasn't faithful? Always drifting off somewhere, even as you spoke to him. Jin wished he could grab him and break every bone in his body, slowly, make him pay for every sin he ever committed. The sin of being with you, touching you. The sin of hurting you.

But all he could do was kneel by your bed and run his fingertips down your cheek. He tried to catch the tears that fell, wipe them away like he used to when he was alive. It didn't do much besides inducing a little shiver, making you pull the blankets tighter around your body.

*

A few months have passed since the car accident, yet he continued to appear in your dreams. It felt like any attempts you made at trying to find peace were being torn apart by his shadow, leaving you lethargic and confused... making you pay less attention to your new relationship. During the day, you questioned your sanity and wondered if you should see a doctor.

During the nights, however, in that cold, little dreamland of yours he haunted, you tried to find the answers to questions you wouldn't dare to ask out loud.

"Why are you still here?"

You still couldn't face him, but you felt his presence, a ghostly touch travelling down your sides. The nightmares themselves were distressing enough, but there was something else gnawing at you, a possibility that made you ache.

"Are you stuck? Is there no light there?"

You could feel Jin's arms wrapping around you from behind. Such a chilly, foreign experience, disturbing you in ways you couldn't even understand; everything seemed too realistic.

"There is," he murmured, his voice sounding amused. "And I went right into it."

You swallowed, staring at the wall ahead of you.

"Oh."

You couldn't tell if you felt relieved or disappointed. You chewed on your bottom lip.

"So, you're not real then," you whispered, as if to yourself. "Just my imagination."

"Oh no," Jin protested. "I'm very real, baby."

Your brows furrowed, your heart skipping a beat. You haven't heard him call you that in so long it made you want to curl yourself up to him. Real or not.

"But you said you followed the light."

"Mm, that I did," his lips grazed your shoulder, a hint of ice with velvet, followed by a soft whisper. "You're my light."

A dam inside you cracked, the turbulent waters behind it about to shatter it altogether, along with your willpower and common sense. You missed him so much. You wished you could hide in his arms and stay like that forever, even if they felt so cold. You'd give up the sun and live in eternal winter if it meant that things could go back to the way they were.

But they couldn't. And that wouldn't be living at all.

*

"Ah, don't forget your pills."

You smiled at Minho and grabbed the small, plastic bottle from him. It's been only two weeks since you saw a psychiatrist, but the quality of your life has improved immensely.

And also, it didn't.

While you no longer feared going to bed, closing your eyes was still a struggle. You didn't need to dream to see Jin's face behind your eyelids.

There was an uncomfortable, odd sense of guilt stirring inside you, like you've done something wrong. Like you've shut him out and left him all alone there in the void. And yet that was all the more reason for you to keep taking your medication and trying to move on. Jin was gone; there was no changing that. Sticking to rationality made it easier for you to ignore these feelings, to tell yourself that you didn't feel unusually cold when you entered your bedroom.

You glanced up at Minho when he got up from the table, grabbing his coat.

"Are you going somewhere?"

He smiled at you as he worked on fixing his tie.

"Just work stuff."

You put down your fork, your appetite suddenly gone. Work stuff, at nine pm. On a Saturday night. Again.

"Don't wait up, honey."

You didn't have the mental strength to deal with this and with your inner turmoil. Instead of speaking up, you tried to force a smile when he bent down to press his lips to yours. An inch separated you, your eyes fluttering shut.

And then - a sudden crash that made you jump in your seat.

Frowning, Minho straightened up, looking behind you.

"What the hell?"

Your heart thudded in your ears. The fright that pulsed through you spread all the way to your fingertips, making your hands feel weak. You turned your head towards the source of the sound, blood draining from your face.

The frame that held the first picture you took with Jin was lying on the floor, shattered, glass broken into pieces. You hid it inside the cabinet right above the spot, yet now it was wide open, gaping.

Even though your knees felt like cotton, you stood up and rushed towards it automatically. You collapsed onto the floor, barely registering Minho calling out your name. With trembling fingers, you began to pick up the pieces in a hurry, not even fazed when you felt two warm hands curling around your arms.

"Are you crazy?" Minho snapped, pulling you away from the mess.

You struggled out of his grasp, your elbow knocking into his chest roughly. You scrambled back to the broken frame, blinking through the tears. It was so hard to see.

"It's- it's broken," you stammered. "Broken. I need to clean it up."

Minho crouched down next to you, gripping your wrists.

"You're hurting yourself!" He hissed. "Look."

He shook both of your hands. Dazed, you glanced down, brows scrunching when you noted the blood dripping from your fingers.

"But-"

Minho stared at you, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, like for the first time he was really seeing you. Like for the first time something akin to guilt stirred in his stomach. Keeping your wrists in a tight grip, he wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you up with him.

"Come on, honey. I''ll clean it up in a sec. Hold on."

He guided you to sit back down on your chair. You could still feel your heart ramming against your chest, frighteningly heavy with the weight of stress. Minho left your side to step up to the cabinets, rummaging through them in search of a first aid kit.

Numbly, you observed him uncap a bottle of antiseptic. Only when it came into contact with your skin did you feel the sting of the cuts, a sizzling sensation that made your fingers twitch. He bandaged them up one by one, seven in total, wincing as he cleaned up the blood.

Silently, as he promised, he went to clean up the mess on the floor as well, ensuring to sweep the area thoroughly. With a brief glance at the picture, then back at you, he set it down on the counter carefully. You felt like you were outside of your body, barely there, unable to speak up and tell him to not throw the picture away. He seemed to know that himself, though.

He picked up your bottle of sleeping pills and placed it on the table beside you.

"I'm late now, but I still have to go. Get some rest okay? You can text me if you feel unwell."

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were grateful to be left alone now or if you wanted to beg him not to walk out the door. Still, you couldn't even nod when he leaned down to kiss your forehead. With your hands on your knees, you listened to him leave and lock the door.

Your eyes flickered from the counter where the picture was, then to your pills. Unable to help yourself, you left the bottle behind and went straight to bed. Waiting for the adrenaline to flow off you and the exhaustion to do its job. You couldn't force yourself to swallow the medication tonight, an uneasy feeling intensifying in your chest.

*

This just wouldn't do.

How much more could he take? He stood by your bed and watched your eyes fall closed, fuming. He caught your attention, and that fucker's too, but Minho was probably too stupid to think much of what happened. Even if a frame did fly out of your kitchen cabinet on its own.

The two weeks he spent without being able to contact you were agony. Time didn't seem to exist on the other side. For the living - for you - it flowed like a river. For Jin it was a bottomless ocean and he felt like he was drowning without you. He couldn't stand the fact that you just tried to toss him away and move on with your life as if he ceased to exist. It was clear you still loved him. Why did he have to die? Why were you so unwilling to believe that he was right by your side? Did you really think something as trivial as death would ever take him away from you?

All the anger inside of him simmered, so powerful it felt like an explosion when he watched you sit in the kitchen with that pathetic excuse of a human being.

Until it overflowed.

He was almost as surprised as you were when the cabinet flew open. He hasn't been able to touch anything on this side of life.

Now, as he stood over your bed, he contemplated what he could do with that newfound power. There were so many possibilities.

With a hum, he brushed your cheek softly. Decisions, decisions.

*

This dream was different from the others. You were still in your bed, but this time Jin didn't sit behind you. You could see his silhouette in the corner of your room, blending in with the shadows. You shivered, relief settling over you for some reason, despite how disturbing the atmosphere felt. At least he was there.

You didn't know what to say. You had a feeling he was angry at you for leaving him behind. Why else would he stand so far away?

"Missed me, baby?"

His voice sounded soft. You hid your face in your hands, confused, unable to tell if the spectre before you was a figment of your imagination, a cry from the grief you tried to escape, or something more sinister. Something more real.

But whatever it was, it was still Jin, in some way. Wasn't it?

When you heard light footsteps approaching your bed, you stiffened, still unable to find the courage to look up. For so many reasons. Would he look dead? Would he look normal? Either way seeing him again would break your heart.

You felt him kneel down on the creaky floorboards, slowly taking your hand in his. A chill spread through you, your eyes shut tightly.

"What have you done?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to each bandaged finger. A feather light touch.

"No more suffering, baby. Promise me... Just let go. I'm right here."

*

The next night you drifted off in your armchair for what seemed like a few minutes. You awoke with a sigh, getting up to stretch in the dark and make your way towards your bedroom.

Minho must have still been out somewhere. You tried to ignore that thought.

Strong arms wrapped around you, halting your steps. You froze, the soothing warmth and smell of a cologne that was so familiar to you making your heart thud. You whirled around in shock, for the first time letting yourself look at him Your hands grasped at his shoulders. He felt so much warmer than usually. Dark, soft hair framing his handsome face, his eyes burning into yours. Wearing the same leather jacket you've seen him in on your last day together.

Was this another dream? It had to be.

"Baby," he muttered lowly, his hands coming to rest on your waist.

The sudden proximity after such a long time of being apart made your stomach swirl. It was strange how solid his hold was on you.

He took a moment to stare into your eyes, the pretty eyes he missed so much, glistening and bright. You were so confused, your chest constricting with pain and love all at once. You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you. This had to be a dream, right? But why did he feel this warm? His eyes seemed so dark. So much darker than they ever were before. His lips knocked into yours, not allowing you to voice your perplexity and your doubts, or focus on your thoughts at all.

Such hunger. He didn't think the dead could feel hunger, or much of anything, but he was wrong. His soul endured starvation in this ruthless void, starvation for your love, your touch, you. It turned into a dark desperation that dripped and dripped onto you like fire, from his tongue brushing your lower lip, from the fingertips dancing across your ribs.

He groaned, a low, raspy sound that made your thighs clench.

Not for long.

He pried them apart and settled himself between them, his lips pressing soft, wet kisses into your neck.

"Fuck," he sighed, fumbling with the zipper of your jeans, his hands shaking. "I missed you."

You wanted to let him push you into the nearest wall so willingly, you would have any other time. But this still felt so odd. So real.

For a moment, you lost your breath, and the only thing you could focus on was the way he slid your jeans halfway down your thighs, not even bothered to undress you or himself properly.

"Missed you," he repeated in a whisper.

When you heard him unbuckling his belt your cunt clenched around nothing, leaking through your panties. There was a soft grunt as his trousers pooled around his ankles, one hand hooking your leg around his waist.

"Missed you too," you gasped, your head tilting back when you felt a sharp tug and heard the cotton material of your underwear being ripped into half.

"I know, baby."

The tip of his cock brushed through your slick folds, the slight pressure of the hard, thick length causing a shiver to erupt down your spine. Jin hissed, squeezing your thighs as he spread you open.

"Missed me here too?"

He emphasized the question with a teasing thrust, rubbing against you. Very fleetingly, the thought of Minho tickled the back of your mind, like a butterfly. You weren't a cheater. But... this wasn't real, was it? Even if it was, you weren't sure if you were able to overcome the shock of it, the need and the yearning burning inside you.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jin rolled his hips, entering you harshly and knocking all air out of your lungs. You felt so full of him, your cunt pulsing hotly around his cock.

"Don't think about him," he seethed. "Don't think about anything. Only me."

He didn't make that task very difficult. All your thoughts turned to ashes when he gripped your throat with his hand and started to fuck you, slamming you into the wall behind you with every aggressive snap of his hips. Like he wanted to take all of his frustration and love out on your body, make you suffer from pleasure.

"You're only mine," he groaned into your ear. "Your heart is mine. This pussy is mine. I should beat your ass raw for fucking forgetting that."

Your knees quivered, a whine tearing out of your throat. He tightened his hand around it, cutting the sound off.

"Say you're sorry."

You clenched around him. Somehow, the aggression only made your head spin more, because if he didn't feel real before, he definitely did now.

"Say you're sorry," he demanded sternly, "you little fucking brat, s-shit."

"Sorry!" You breathed, barely audible with how hard he was choking you, your eyes stinging and pussy fluttering. "Sorry."

Jin grunted and let go of your neck, burying his hand in your hair instead. You felt lightheaded, barely able to catch the air he allowed back into your lungs, panting with how close you were.

"Good girl," he whispered, strained, a moan following the praise.

"Fuck, missed you so much, not g-gonna last, shit-"

You weren't going to, either, but he busied himself with pulling on your hair and slipping his other hand in between you. He pressed his finger into your slit to rub it roughly, causing even more slick to flow out of you, making his thrusts sloppier.

"So wet. So pretty. I love you so much, ah, fuck."

His breathing sounded just as harsh as his thrusts in your ear, growing desperate, louder than your own cries.

"Haven't been fucked how you deserve in so long, my love," he mumbled, plump lips brushing against your skin. "Come for me, please. Come on, doll. Need to feel you," he groaned. "Shit! Come on. I'll fill you up so, so good."

You couldn't help the sudden, violent snap in your stomach that made you shake and cream his cock. Jin threw his head back, revealing his attractive, tanned neck, his adam's apple bobbing. His groans were carnal, filthy, his cock twitching inside of you, filling you with a rush of his cum. If possible, you felt even fuller, your chest glowing and your cunt sticky from his orgasm. With a hiss, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, his embrace tighter around you, keeping your knees from giving out.

You floated in his arms, barely registering the fact that he picked you up and carried you towards the bed you used to share, his own knees feeling weak.

So he was able touch you. So he was able to love you. He watched you fall asleep, hope blooming in his chest only to wither away into disappointment. So what? In the end, what did that matter? You couldn't have a life together, grow old, have children. He would never be able to take you out to an expensive restaurant or buy you a gift, and who knew how long this would last? Could he only touch you when he was angry, overwhelmed, empty?

This just wouldn't do.

*

It only took a mere few days for the opportunity to arise.

It was so hard to tell what was happening around you. Your eyes blinked open to a bright light blinding you. You had no idea where you were. Was this another dream, again? You squinted, trying to cover your face. The light felt warm and safe, calling to you, like it wanted to pull you into its pearly embrace.

Instead, a darker embrace enveloped you.

"Don't go," a sweet murmur. "Not yet, baby. Stay with me."

You lifted your eyes towards the light, still squinting, although it seemed to be fading in its intensity little by little. For some reason you felt like you were running out of time.

Something was wrong.

"Stay with me," Jin repeated quietly. "You know there is no me without you. Don't go where I can't follow."

You hesitated. Weren't you on your way to see your mother with Minho? An image flashed through your head, leather seats and the low hum of music on the radio.

No, you were definitely in a car. So where the hell were you now? The last thing you remembered was the same bright light that was dimming in front of you now. You turned your head to the side, coming face to face with Jin.

The puzzle pieces clicked into place and you looked towards the enchanting source of illumination again. The light was dwindling, though its call still felt just as enticing and loud, urging you to follow.

You turned your head back towards Jin.

"Did we... crash? Am I dead?"

A hint of sorrow glimmered in his eyes. He nodded meekly, his arms tightening around you, strong and secure.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, leaning in, his lips a breath away from yours. "I'll take care of you," he murmured.

His hand slid down your side, moving to your hip. Your breath caught in your throat.

"But... but-"

You tried to take a peek at the light in front of you you, but he lifted his hand and placed it on your cheek, unwilling to let you look away from him.

Something felt so wrong; like your only chance for real, heavenly peace was slipping through your fingers. Like this wasn't where you were supposed to be, even if you ached to be with him.

"Jin..."

He shushed you, pressing a warm, affectionate kiss into your lips, his thumb brushing away your tears.

"We'll be together. Forever. I won't let you go again."

You sniffled, the space around you growing dark as night, his lips still inches from yours when he spoke again.

"You're okay, baby. I promise."

His grip on your face softened. You nodded, wiping at your eyes. He smiled at you, something you haven't seen in so long. It made your heart flip, for so many reasons.

"Good girl," he praised, stroking the top of your head affectionately. He ignored the trembling of your body, only pressing you closer to himself, trying to soothe your anxiety and pain away.

Even if he was the one who caused it.

He placed a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. You promised to always be his.

Promises were made to be kept.

*

In a small, well lit room, Minho sat in a bed, eyeing the two figures in white lab coats standing before him suspiciously.

"I don't want to talk to you," he grumbled. "You're just here to treat me like one of your crazy patients."

The tall, dark haired man with glasses took a seat in the chair at the foot of the bed, crossing his legs.

"I don't consider any of my patients crazy," he answered calmly. "It's important to remain open minded and find a solution if a problem arises. I'm only here to listen and help you feel safe. I promise."

Minho narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking from the elderly nurse who still stood by his side to the doctor.

The psychiatrist gave him a kind, dimpled smile.

"My name is Kim Namjoon. How about we start with that?"

"I don't care about your name," Minho huffed. "You have no idea what happened to me. You would never believe it either."

A pen clicked, its tip pressing into a notebook resting on the man's lap.

"Why don't you try me?" He coaxed gently. "Let's start at the beginning. As you're aware, the security footage shows your car swerving violently to the right. The doctor said you were trying to avoid hitting someone."

"I- I was."

Namjoon raised his eyebrows.

"But the roads were empty."

Minho flushed.

"Your tests also came back negative for any signs of drugs or alcohol in your system," Namjoon continued. "Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

"I wasn't hallucinating because I was stressed," Minho snapped. "I saw someone!"

"Who did you see?"

Heaving a sigh, Minho glanced up at the nurse, who gave him an encouraging smile, as if to say: it's okay. He fiddled with the cool sheets covering him.

"My girlfriend's ex. He... died seven months ago."

"Ah," Namjoon said softly, steering his focus onto you, as if the revelation of seeing a ghost didn't faze him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Minho."

Another sigh, heavier, glassy eyes burning into the doctor.

"It was his fault!" Minho stressed. "He killed her and now he's going to kill me."

After a moment of soft scratching of pen against paper, Namjoon leaned forward, tilting his head to the side.

"What makes you think that?"

Minho hesitated.

"I... saw him in the hospital room as well. It was like a dream," he sniffed. "But I couldn't move."

Namjoon hummed, waiting.

"...He... said something to me."

Straightening up, Namjoon grabbed his pen again and pressed it into the white page.

"What was it?"

Minho pursed his lips, sighed once more. Cringed at his own words.

"He... he said," he gulped, "that- that I'm already ugly but he's going to fuck me up so bad that I'll wish I didn't even have a face and my own mama won't recognize me."

Silence.

The nurse coughed into her hand.

Namjoon just hummed again, trying to hold back, trying so hard not to laugh, but a snort escaped him anyway, his lips curling into a smile while he wrote the words down.

"Jin really enjoyed fucking with you, huh?"

Minho frowned, his face flooding with heat, his hands curling into fists.

"Do you think this is funny?! How dare you sit here and-" he paused abruptly, the rest of his outburst forming into a big knot in his throat.

How did the psychiatrist know Jin's name?

Namjoon set his notebook and pen down, looking up at Minho.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I promise he's not going to hurt you."

Minho leaned back into the bedframe, trying to sink into it as the man stood up. His aura did not seem so gentle anymore, but rather intimidating as he stalked over to him, disturbingly so.

His head momentarily snapped up to the nurse. She gave him a grin so crooked and strange it made his heart sink.

"Where the hell am I?" He whispered. "I thought this was a mental hospital."

"It was," Namjoon nodded, taking a seat beside him. "Many years ago."

As soon as he was closer, Minho froze, unable to move. A horrible thought occurred to him.

"Did I die?"

Namjoon tsked.

"Of course not. How would that be any fun?"

His hand reached out towards Minho, unusually cold knuckles brushing his cheek, making him flinch.

"I wouldn't be able to hurt you much if we were both dead, would I?"

The room seemed to darken somehow, its shape distorting with dim, sickly green flashes and black shadows. The logical part of him wanted to ask if he was drugged, but deep down, he knew the truth was much worse. His hands trembled violently, a cold, dark feeling spreading through his veins, rendering him weak. He was starting to grow dizzy.

"What did I do to deserve this?" He mumbled hoarsely through dry, shaking lips.

Namjoon bent over to the chair and grabbed his notebook, flipping through the pages. His image was becoming blurry, his voice an odd echo.

"Oh, let me see. Jin noted it all down here."

He settled on a random page.

"You're a liar," he listed, "you always forget your mum's birthday... Oh my, you're a republican as well."

Minho blinked, trying to keep himself afloat, too terrified of what he would wake up to if he fainted.

Namjoon's dark, amused eyes turned towards him, his deep voice eerily calm.

"What do you think you did wrong? Hm? You took his girlfriend, and then you cheated on her as well. Repeatedly. That's not nice, Minho."

He patted his shoulder.

"Sleep well, my friend. I've been so very bored, and I want to have fun with you. I'll see you when you wake up."

Minho shook his head, like he could protest against the workings of his own body, of what was happening around him. But there was only so much distress his pounding heart could handle before it gave out altogether. White as a sheet, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he fainted.

The last thing he saw before the darkness took him into her arms, like a mother cradling her child, was Namjoon's chilly smile.

Reported missing two days after the accident, his case remained unsolved.

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @imnotlauriane @bucketofhiros @baalsgurl1913 @silv3rswirls @osakis-gf @iceprincessviviane

💜💜💜

yellow lights

— summary: who would have thought your coworkers would mean more to you than you initially thought a year later?

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, poly!au, office!au, established relationship

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: none

— commission for @vickyyy97

“Someone looks happy today. Who’s got you smiling like that, darling?” You look over at Seokjin who greets you the second you walk into the office today, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Was it a man?” He asks and you feel heat slowly rising upon your cheeks.

He takes note of that.

“Well actually, u-um,” you scratch the back of your head, trying to play it cool but knowing nothing can ever get past the Kim Seokjin.

“No way! You’re serious?” Someone else comes up from the other side of the room and you turn to find Jimin and Taehyung walking over, the older of the 95 liner holding a hand over his gaped mouth as if this was the most shocking news he’s ever heard in his life.

“I never knew you had a man in your life already, Y/N,” Taehyung says with an arm coming over to pull you into a headlock as he ruffles your hair.

“Tae!” You whine, pouting slightly at his antics. “I don’t have a man but there was this cute barista I saw just a few blocks away.”

“Damn! She’s now taken!” He smacks his hands over his heart in a dramatic gesture you have to push him off you a bit so the coffee in your hand doesn’t spill over.

“I’m not,” you reiterate.

“But there’s a chance, yeah?” Seokjin says as he takes your coffee cup without permission to show off the number written there. “He gave you his number.”

“That’s…” You avert your eyes, biting your lower lip.

“Ooh, look at that,” Jimin takes the cup in his hand, examining it with a playful snicker, “he drew a little heart.”

“Stop it guys, you’re embarrassing.” You try to take your coffee back, only they don’t give you a chance.

“Hey if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back into my arms to cry, yeah? I’ll always be right here to cheer you up.” Despite how playful he sounds right now, you know there’s always a high chance Taehyung means it more than anything. It doesn’t take over the fact that his constant flirting doesn’t always get you worked up, however.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be needing it but uh, thanks for the offer.”

“Well, whatever happens,” you see Seokjin take the coffee back from Jimin who’s still laughing over the little note the barista gave you, in order to hand it back to you, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” 

You feel a light pat on your head, a gentle gesture he tends to do when he wishes to cheer you up. 

Ah. How sweet.

You feel your heart skip a beat.

“...Thanks Jin.”

.

.

.

“I never took you as a coffee person.” Yoongi, on the more quiet side, as compared to the rest of the boys, gives you a small raise in his brow when he takes note of the coffee you have on your desk for the third day in a row. “I thought you preferred tea or...other things.”

You did once speak on drink preferences though you never thought Yoongi would ever take note of them seriously because they were always just small talks that led to no direction. Yet here he is, raising a brow at the coffee you have.

“Is it the barista?” He asks and you know by now the boys probably all know your encounter with the cute barista a few blocks down the street. When you feel your cheeks heating up, you hear Yoongi let out a small chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Feelings always start off with the infatuation you have for someone, but you have to keep in mind not to force anything you dislike for someone else. What’re you going to do when you’re unhappy just to keep someone else happy? That isn’t exactly healthy, now is it?”

“You sound like my mom always giving me life lessons,” Hoseok comes in with rolled eyes over his hyung’s words. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Even if you are, it’s not like they can’t talk things over once they get closer. Isn’t that right?” Hoseok turns to you, putting you on the spot and making you freeze up.

“W-well, yes. I suppose so.”

“Well.” Yoongi lets out a sigh. “If you aren’t going to drink the coffee, just order a black coffee and I’ll drink it for you the next time you return.”

And so it becomes a routine where you’re rushing in the morning, ordering the black coffee just to have a small conversation with the cute barista before it’s time for work and once you’re in, Yoongi takes the coffee for you, drinking it.

For a good time it goes on like this; the constant teasing from the boys, Namjoon scolding them, and Yoongi sitting back to enjoy the show with his free coffee every morning.

Though at times you feel Taehyung’s flirty comments are much more common than usual, Seokjin’s a little gentler, Jimin’s a little touchier, Jungkook’s a bit more pouty and cranky, Hoseok’s by your side more often, Yoongi more willing to engage in conversations rather than his usual responses of “mhm” and “yes” or “no,” and Namjoon being more observant.

Perhaps it’s the change in the seasons, perhaps it’s the new project the team’s working on, or perhaps they’re just looking out for you because you’re still a bit new to everything and they don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.

They’re kind after all. Ever since the first day you joined the company since your move here, the boys have been nothing but kind and welcoming towards you, helping you out in areas you need to improve on, exchanging numbers, offering to hang out outside work hours, and just anything and everything for you in order to help you feel more comfortable.

It’s sweet having people looking out for you.

“Date?” One late night with just you and Jungkook left behind, you decide to relay the news to him as the two of you finally finish off for the night. “Well finally, seems like that bastard wasn’t ever going to pick up the guts to ask you out.” He sounds a bit irritated, as he usually would when the topic of the barista is brought up. “So then, where you going?”

“He said he’ll be taking me out to dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? So you’ll be dressing up all nice and pretty for him, huh?”

“Well-” You cut yourself off, looking off to the side with a hand hovered over your cheeks. “It’s..the normal thing to do, right? When..one goes on a date?”

“I guess,” he shrugs, sounding bored with his hands in his pockets.

“I haven’t done this in a while, I’m kind of nervous. Though to be honest, I don’t really enjoy one-on-one meal dates too much, especially with someone I don’t really know that well. I mean even though I find him cute and nice it’s just…hm, I don’t know. It’s just nerve-wracking I guess.”

“Really? Dinner dates aren’t your thing?” Jungkook looks over at you, a bit surprised.

“I just get too much social anxiety,” you chuckle nervously his way. “I mean, there’s always a chance my date might ditch me and I’ll end up sitting there being awkwardly stared at by other customers and the waiter will also be placed in an awkward position. Not to mention the food choices are way too many to choose from and you can never really guess what will be good and what will not. Plus I’m just an awkward person in general when it comes to one-on-one interaction over a formal occasion. What if he finds me boring?”

“He’d be a fool if he did,” he mutters under his breath.

“Huh?”

Jungkook clears his throat, speaking louder this time. “I said that’s stupid to be worrying over.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Is it?”

“I’m not saying it’s–” He pauses, takes a breath in and out before speaking again. “What I meant was, you shouldn’t worry about that because you’re not boring. Well, not to me.”

“Ha ha, that totally helped release all of my anxieties at once.”

“I’m just saying,” he purses his lips into a small pout, “I mean I get awkward with people all the time because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep a conversation going but I’ve never been uncomfortable with you. You’ve never made me feel bored and I’ve never had a thought of wanting to get out of a conversation with you so it’d be dumb if that bastard did. I’m the most awkward person on Earth. I’m sure you’ll do fine with him.”

You giggle at the way Jungkook seems to shy away after giving you a few compliments, his ears a little red, head turned off to the side but you catch sight of the slight blush on his cheeks under the night sky.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

“Come on,” he rushes forward, opening the passenger side of the door for you in order to snap out of his embarrassment. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

.

.

.

“Uh, what? You want me to spy on Y/N?” Namjoon looks the maknaes dead in the eyes before turning his back to them, returning to the coffee maker in the break room. “No. I’m on a break, stop bothering me.”

“Oh come on hyung!” Taehyung whines as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s blazer.

“If you’re that desperate to see how her date goes, why don’t you go yourself?” He pauses. “Actually, that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah exactly! Taehyung and I both know we’d do a horrible job and get noticed right away, which will put Y/N in an awkward situation, and Jungkook here has anger issues so if that barista does something wrong, he’s also bound to get noticed.”

“Listen, I know I have my problems but hearing it out loud still hurts, you know.”

“The truth hurts, maknae.” Jimin pats his head, causing him to frown even deeper. “And Yoongi hyung,” he turns back to Namjoon again, “he’s also bound to punch the dude if something goes wrong. Jin and Hoseok hyung are great candidates but they’re working that day. You’re the only one available, hyung.”

“I’m also working that day.”

“You get out early.”

“How is it that you know my schedule so well, Park Jimin?” Coffee done and set in a cup, Namjoon turns back to the three of them, letting out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? Y/N can’t keep staying under our wings forever. She’s a grown woman capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yes, yes, but what if something goes wrong?” Jungkook says, the three of them still holding their stance.

“Seems like you want it to go wrong.” Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, staring them down.

“Whaaat? Now why would I want that? Y/N’s happiness matters most of all and if that happiness is with the barista, why would I wanna intervene?”

“You’re gritting your teeth.”

He avoids eye contact, not even wanting to deny Namjoon’s accusation as he places his hands in his pockets.

In the end, the maknaes’ persuasion skills are much more in effect as they manage to rope Namjoon into their shenanigans, so when the day comes, the man finds himself being there to be the witness to how your date with the barista goes.

And unfortunately on your end, it doesn’t go too well.

“You…have a girlfriend?” You look at the phone he has in his hand when he turns around, surprised you caught him in the act when he excused himself to pick up a call, only to leave you in that restaurant for some time so you decided to step out to check up on him and now here you are, staring at a man who holds onto a dumb expression because he got caught.

“Who’s that?” You hear a voice from the other line of his phone and Woosung turns around for a second again, putting the phone back to his ear as he whispers “I’ll call you back” before turning back shamelessly around with an awkward smile.

You bite your lower lip, feeling like a fool as your shoulders keep their tense state and you take a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Things were rocky,” he says, “we still are–”

“That doesn’t make it right to go around and sweeten up to other girls,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the excuses. “If you wanted another relationship, you should have broken up with your girlfriend first but instead here you are, making a fool out of me, using me as a side piece. If things went back to normal with your girlfriend, you were just going to toss me off to the side, weren’t you? Or use me as a secret affair?”

“Y/N-”

“Don’t say my name, please.” You take a few more steps back, feeling lightheaded and done. “Don’t contact me again. Delete my number, please.”

You turn to walk off, only to have your wrist pulled back.

“Hear me out-”

“I don’t want to hear anything!” You try to pull your arm back to get away from him but his grip is too tight for you to actually do much. “Let me go. You have a girlfriend.”

“I’ll break up with her,” Woosung tries to concede but you can only scoff in his face.

“Are you serious? If you can go around her back and try to get with other girls, you can do that to me too.”

“Y/N-”

“Let go,” you beg, feeling your voice crack as the tears finally begin to form upon the forceful way he holds onto you, not wanting to release his grip no matter how much you try to escape. “Please, I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I-”

Just as you feel a drop of tear about to fall from your eye, a foreign hand is placed right upon your eyes to block your vision, the sling of arm he has on you pulling you back against his chest and a voice rumbles from the depths of his throat.

“Do not ever waste your tears on spoiled milk, sweetheart, do not let him think he has power over you,” the voice says, a voice you recognize, a voice that begins to fight off the fear you had thinking you were alone and no one would help you out of this situation. Suddenly the hand isn’t so foreign anymore and you find yourself relaxing a bit into that chest of his.

“Mind letting go of that precious hand, buddy?” Namjoon says, his voice dropping an octave when he addresses your admirer. “We don’t want to make a scene here now do we? Unless you do, and in that case, I can definitely give you a show.”

When he doesn’t say a word in response, too frightened at how grave Namjoon sounds, your rescuer lets out a scoff before giving you a squeeze on the shoulder to let you know that you were to be leaving.

He turns you around, taking his hand off your eyes, but not from your shoulder, and guiding you away from the scene, knowing not to leave you alone until the two of you were finally away from the sight of Woosung.

“You alright?” Only then does Namjoon let you go and take a step back, watching to make sure you don’t look too uncomfortable.

Yet his hands being placed on you wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that you just found out the guy you thought was interested in you had a girlfriend all along, and in the shameful feeling you’re suddenly forced to face tonight, your head lowers to the ground, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes.

“Sorry you had to…see that.”

“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.” He hands you a tissue to which you take, wiping your tears despite it still coming down, and when it seems as if they won’t stop any time soon, Namjoon takes the initiative to take a step forward and pull you into his arms, embracing you in the way you need it.

You bury your face into his chest as he holds you, the night breeze flying past with nothing but the sound of a few cars passing by and your little sniffles, and in this very moment, all you can think is that Namjoon’s arms feel so warm, so comfortable, and so kind.

Just what you need.

Just what you needed.

“Sorry,” you croak out again, voice sounding a little more broken but Namjoon shakes his head as he holds you tighter.

“It’s alright.”

“I probably look like a fool,” you say and yet he shakes his head.

“None of this was your fault.”

“I should have known,” you pull back just slightly to wipe at your eyes, “all men, whether in Korea or elsewhere, has the audacity to be such assholes.”

“Hmm, you’re right. In one way or another, everyone’s the same.”

You look up at him, sight a little blurry. “Why’re you not defending men or saying ‘not all men’?”

“Because that’d piss you off,” you scoff, “and I know how we can be.”

“But you…” You bite onto your lower lip, staring down at his white dress shirt as tear stains and some bits of your makeup managed to fall upon them — a sight he doesn’t care to pay attention to. You now feel embarrassed for a different reason. “I probably look like a mess right now, I’m so sorry,” you cry, hating the sight of your mascara wet on your fingers.

“You’re cute,” Namjoon chuckles and you give him a little punch on the chest, wanting to hide your embarrassment and only causing him to laugh a little more.

“How’d you know to even find me? How’d you even get there in the first place? It was like you were already there.”

“Well…” When he hesitates, you look back up at him, blinking.

“Don’t tell me Jungkook set you up to this?”

“Not just him.”

The maknaes. “Of course it’s them.” You let out a sigh. “I’m kind of surprised with how protective they seem to be, they didn’t come here themselves and sent you instead.”

“They sent me because they knew if something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to stop themselves before that barista has a couple of bruises on his face.”

You laugh a little at that sentiment. “Well aren’t they aware.”

“If I tell them you cried, I wonder what they’d do.”

“Don’t!” You quickly say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to make sure he knows just how serious you are. “I already told them where Woosung works at so if they know what he did, who knows what they’d do.”

“Are you that worried?”

“They have absolutely no care for what other people think of them so of course I’m worried.” You quickly wipe the remaining tears left on your face. “I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt.”

“I suppose I can leave out a few details.”

“Thanks, Namjoon.” You look around the empty streets of the night, feeling a bit awkward now that things are starting to calm down. “And..thanks…for being there…..and here, right now.”

Namjoon lets out a light chuckle. “Mr. Bang told us to look out for our newbie, didn’t he?” He says, a light reminder of your company CEO’s words to them when you first joined. “Though even without him saying so, we’d still be taking care of you.”

You smile up his way, knowing that if he hadn’t been here tonight, a different outcome would have occurred and you aren’t sure how you would have been able to deal with things were it not for him.

.

.

.

“Sorry you won’t be getting your usual free coffee anymore.” When you take a seat beside Yoongi the next day, something tells you he probably knows the actual full story about what happened the night before unlike the three younger ones. Namjoon probably felt it safe to tell the older ones and that you wouldn’t blame him for it.

He’s right.

Before the man can reply, Jimin’s sliding his chair on over with a comment of his own. “Who cares? Hyung can get his own coffee and there’s always plenty of fishes in the sea.”

“He’s right, I’m a fish,” Taehyung says with a smirk sent your way. “I’m a great fish.”

You laugh a little at that. “It’s alright guys. He was cute but I forgot that pretty faces don't always mean pretty hearts.”

“I’m literally right in front of you but go off.” Taehyung sits himself on Jimin’s lap with a roll of his eyes, causing you to giggle.

“I knew he was a red flag,” Jungkook joins in with his arms leaning over your desk. “Everything about the dude screamed red flag.”

“You never even met him.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell,” he argues. “If you ask me, even Taehyung’s a better candidate.”

“See, what’d I tell you?” The older one is quick to agree as his eyes light up. “Why don’t you give me a chance, sweetheart? I’d never break your heart.”

“That’s a lie,” you laugh.

He pouts. “Why would you say that? You don’t trust me?”

“I’m just saying it’s inevitable to break someone’s heart whether you mean to or not. That’s just what happens when you’re in a relationship right? Not everything is smooth sailing.”

“Well, you can break my heart anytime.”

“Alright, alright, stop bothering me and get back to your stations already.” When Yoongi finally speaks up among the conversation you seemed to attract without meaning to, the three boys are quick to obey their hyung’s words, sitting up and scattering to their destination after a quick wave of goodbye your way.

You yourself were just about to return to your own station when Yoongi stops you mid-way.

“By the way,” he starts, allowing you to look back at him, “Stop apologizing, you’ll wear yourself out.”

It’s blunt the way he says it but you know that Yoongi always means well so it makes your insides warm hearing him giving you kind words in return to what you initially came to him for.

.

.

.

“So, what do you think about this?”

Hoseok takes a glance at your computer screen before looking back at you, whose eyes seem to look slightly dreary despite the excitement settled in them. 

“I think you need to take a break,” he says and you’re quick to frown.

“Come on, Hoseok, just look it over for a second, yeah? I promise I’ll stop bothering after.”

“You said that last time.”

“I really promise this time!” 

“No, you’re lying,” he says with a poke at your forehead, forcing your head to get pushed back away from him. “You’ve been working too hard these days you might actually collapse soon and what kind of sunbae would I be if I didn’t look out for my hoobae’s health?”

“But I’m fine-”

He knows all too well the sudden shift in focus you’ve had on work ever since the failed date with the barista down the street, a sort of focus that forces you to work much too hard and way too much than needed.

“Come on, it’s almost midnight.”

“And?”

You’ve even forgotten what tomorrow implies. 

He takes ahold of your chair, rolling it away from your computer so he can make sure everything’s saved before shutting it off, causing you to groan in response, yet when he goes on to get your jacket, you’re reluctantly obedient. 

“Have you forgotten what today is?” He asks and you look at your phone.

“The twenty-second of January. Why?”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The twenty-third.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” Wide eyes, innocent and curious, totally oblivious as you allow him to help you put your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. 

Hoseok looks out the window and you follow his eyes, wondering why the night sky has caught his attention, but when there’s nothing there and he says nothing in reply to your question, you go on to gather your things just as he checks his watch.

“Are you free right now?” He asks, not looking up from his watch.

“I have a few minutes to spare.”

“Just a few?”

You chuckle. “I’m free, Hoseok.”

“Great.” He takes a step from where you are gathering your things, sliding up from behind and leans right into your ear. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

It’s so soft and quiet against your ear but you know you haven’t misheard a thing just as the phone on the desk lights up and you see that it’s 12:00 am, the twenty-third of January; your 26th birthday.

“Come on then,” he takes your bag before you can protest, walking off to have you chasing him right behind, “we’ve got plans.”

“Plans?” You blink, hurrying to keep up. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”

Yet you receive no answer as he takes you in his car and drives off with a grin on his face, leaving you wondering with anticipation for what’s to happen.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you arrive at some sort of park you don’t think you’ve ever visited before.

“Why are we here?” You ask and yet all you receive is Hoseok’s hand asking you to just trust him and follow along. You take his hand and he leads you toward the inner part of the park until you’re standing right before a fountain. “How pretty,” you say, wondering why you never took the chance to ever come to such a place before. “Hoseok, you–”

When you turn around to address the man who brought you here in the first place, there’s no one in sight.

“Hoseok?” You call for him, confused as you begin to look around.

Just then, lights begin to appear.

Pretty little fairy lights decorated along the lampposts and hedges of the part. Bright white and golden all around, leaving you to only stare in awe at the sudden burst of lights gleaming all around while you stand in the center of it all, heart picking up its pace at just how pretty everything looks.

All for you.

No one’s ever done something as grand as this for you, not even your closest friend,s and yet here you are, cherished by people whom you’ve known for only a year or so.

“Do you like it?”

You turn at the familiar voice to see Hoseok with a grin, and just behind him stands the rest of the guys who share the same sentiment.

“Like it?” Words can’t even begin to describe. “I..”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you crying?!” Seokjin’s the first to rush up to you when he sees your hands raising up to your face, taking them in his and blowing his warm breath onto them to warm it up as Yoongi presses both his gloved hands upon your cheeks. “Don’t cry now, this was supposed to make you happy.”

“I am happy,” you say as a few tears slip. “I’m really happy.”

“Are you sure because crying usually means—”

“I promise,” you cut Yoongi off when you see the serious frown he has on his face, a sign of worry as he frets over your tears. “I promise I’m happy.”

“You have such an odd way of proving you’re happy,” he grumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh.

“We have cake but I don’t think you’d be able to blow out the candles in this windy environment.”

January is still Winter after all.

“That’s alright,” you say to Jimin, “we can just pretend the fire’s on.”

And so he goes on to get the cake with Taehyung in toll, and in the middle of the pretty park they’ve taken the time to show you, a soft birthday song rings in the air, and when that’s over, you intertwine your fingers together for a wish before blowing out the imaginary fire on the candles.

January is a bit cold, a little worse when the moon has risen high in the sky, but tonight you feel anything but the coldness, not when these seven boys have taken the time to dedicate themselves to making sure you’re having a good time.

.

.

.

“You know if you keep staring at me, you might burn a hole in my face.”

“Hm? What are you talking about?” Hoseok starts, his chin still propped upon his hand, eyes shamelessly staring without a hint of movement anytime soon. You let out a little chuckle, flustered, and hit him lightly on the chest. “What? Do I make you flustered?”

“You’re almost as bad as Taehyung sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with a little flirting?”

“I’m going to take it the wrong way one day,” you tell him as you get up from your seat to head on over to the printer where a few papers await their turn. “I know you’re all joking though but sometimes, well, admittedly,” you hide your face behind your hair, staring straight at the printing machine to finish its job, “my heart does skip a beat...or two.”

“Really?” He says it so nonchalantly you think your reaction is the least bit of his concern. “Hm, then it’s working,” until he says those words.

“Huh?” You look up, flustered, with blinking eyes. “What do you mean it’s…working?”

Hoseok sends you a smirk just as Taehyung slides up along his side, arm draping over the older man’s shoulder with a mirrored smirk.

“Oh I think you know what that means, darling,” the younger one states, his brows wiggling playfully.

You take the collection of papers that have been printed out for you and huddle them close to your chest, not fully comprehending them only because you wouldn’t want to create a misunderstanding and interpret things wrong when it’s actually meant to have a different meaning.

“I..I-I..”

Before you can finish your stuttering, however, a roll of paper comes along to smack both Hoseok and Taehyung on the head.

“Stop flirting during work hours, you know better than that,” Namjoon warns with a firm expression.

“But you know our girl will never get it if we don’t get to the point,” Hoseok argues.

“The point?” You blink.

“Then get to the point.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, looking exasperated by the antics of the group as he joins the crowd with Jungkook, just as Jimin and Seokjin walk through the doors.

It’s clear the seven of them all know exactly what’s going on while you remain standing there in confusion, left to try to interpret things under your own limited understanding unless they decide they want to come out and just say whatever it is they’re holding out on.

“See, look at her. She’s confused.” Yoongi points out, his head beckoning your way to make them look at you.

You freeze under their stares, not…uncomfortable but more so…shy.

“She’s not confused, she knows exactly what’s happening,” Seokjin speaks up, a slight grin resting on his lips as he walks a few steps forward to take your papers for you. They were meant for him in the first place. “She’s just afraid it might turn out to be false,” he says, purposely staring you down with that glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Now we don’t want any miscommunications around here, do we?” Jimin sneaks up behind you, hands pressed upon your shoulders. “So why don’t you tell our little one exactly what you mean, hyung?” He’s baiting Hoseok, that slyness in his tone not being able to escape your ears especially when he’s so close to you.

As for the older one, he simply remains calm, instead glancing at the maknae. “Didn’t you want to do the honors? You’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, right?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn red, his face turning to the side in an instant once the attention is brought down to him instead, and while Jimin snickers, Taehyung holds his laugh, Seokjin hides a grin behind his hand, and Namjoon’s expression turns fond, you find the gentleman who became the first friend you made ever since moving to Korea and working alongside him as a new employee to be quite cute.

He’s always been cute from the very beginning.

You’re the closest in age after all, so with him feeling more comfortable to approach you and make you feel comfortable, you found his company to be a delight you enjoyed looking forward to each day you came to work.

And now here he is, almost a year later, flustered like a teenage boy trying to hand his crush a love letter.

And the boys are eating it up.

“Jungkook?” So you call out to him, knowing he may need a little bit of encouragement to tell you the thing he needs to say, all the while preparing your heart just in case the answer you’re seeking turns out to be wrong and you were just misinterpreting things. “It’s alright, take your time.”

“That’s right, maknae, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

You lightly hit Taehyung on the chest. “You’re not helping the boy.”

He laughs in response. “You already know what he’s trying to say so why not save him the embarrassment?”

“Do I?”

“Oh, would you look at that?” Namjoon raises a brow, impressed. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

“Huh, no I didn’t mean that!” You’re quick to say, hands rushing to wave it off as you become flustered again. “J-Jungkook I didn’t-” You turn to him, stumbling out your words. “Well, I mean, I think I..I-I don’t exactly..-But if it’s what I think it is..-But if it isn’t, uh-”

“Oh god, they’re hopeless,” Jimin laughs aloud before simply squeezing your shoulders as he leans in. “Why don’t we stop the act and just become ours, hm? I think you know we all feel the same way at this point.”

“Hyung what the hell?!” Jungkook suddenly shouts with his mouth held agape, offended his moment was stolen from him.

“You were taking too long!”

“That doesn’t mean you can take the spotlight!”

In the midst of their little dispute, all you can hear is Jimin’s short yet meaningful confession in your ears, one that seems to make your heart race more than any man has ever made it beat before and you stand there right in the center, eyes unblinking, feeling as if the world is slowing down as you hear each beat your heart drums aloud for you.

“So what do you say?!” Taehyung jumps in, leaving Hoseok’s side to drape his arm around you instead.

“You’re both so annoying!” Jungkook yells, his brows furrowed deeply as his lips jut into a pout.

With cheeks heated and heart set aflame, you take the pouty man’s hand and look him straight in the eyes, taking a moment to calm him down so that the whole room can fall silent, before you turn to look at them all, hands trembling a bit when you say;

“Mmn, I’ll…I can…..yeah.”

Their faces brighten in an instant, and in that moment you realize despite how brave and nonchalant they all may seem to appear on the outside, perhaps deep within their hearts, they were just as nervous and frightened of what your answer may be.

And for that you say the words that Jungkook had been meaning to say but was robbed of the opportunity.

“I like you. I like you so…so much.”

.

.

.

Two years later

“Mr. Bang approved the proposal and he told me he’d be able to connect me with some people and-” you let out a scream of delight as you jump around before Seokjin, taking his hands along with you for him to see just how excited you are right now. “I’m ranking up Jin! I’m ranking up! And soon the company’s going to skyrocket and my efforts will be rewarded! It is rewarded! It’s being rewarded!”

Despite the onlookers of passersby taking quick glances at the two of you as you jump for joy, Seokjin simply smiles fondly at the pretty girl before him, looking her happiest and knowing he’d never want to rain on her parade and cast that look aside.

“Look at that, my little rockstar all grown up,” he says with a smile so gentle and fond of you you think you might fall in love with him all over again.

“Are you proud?” You ask and he chuckles as if the answer was that obvious and did not warrant a question.

“So proud,” he reaffirms your thoughts with hands cupping your cheeks and bringing his nose to playfully graze it with yours before he proudly lands a short yet sweet kiss on your lips.

“Jin, don’t do that in public,” you back away just a little, now noticing the people who’re just trying to walk the street.

Yet Seokjin laughs at you. “I thought you enjoyed public displays of affection.”

“I never said that,” you say as you take his hand and begin to walk off towards the apartment building the eight of you reside in, “that’s Taehyung and Hoseok. And Yoongi doesn’t care about anything so whether it’s embarrassing or not, he’ll do it if he’s in the mood — which can get a little frustrating.”

“Does it?”

“It does. Though now that I think about it, I think all of you except Namjoon and I care about modesty when it comes to displaying affections publicly.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Jungkook too?”

“He enjoys seeing my reactions!” You say with a huff. “But then when I get him flustered, he goes on a whole rant as if he doesn’t do it frequently to me. Couldn’t you talk to him for me? He’d listen to you.”

“You think he’d listen to me?”

“You’re right, never mind, he never listens to you.”

“I listen well,” just as the elevator doors pop open, someone approaches the two of you from behind, their head propping in between your two bodies, “there’s just a time and place for everything.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes at Jungkook’s response as the three of you walk into the elevator. “It’d be good if you can listen to your elders, Jungkook.”

“Come on now, don’t start giving me life lessons again. It’s just that sometimes tuning some people out is the best thing to do.”

“Excuse me?” You hide your laugh behind a hand at Seokjin’s offended expression but he catches you quickly. “And what’re you doing teaming up with him? You were against him just a few seconds ago,” he says, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you in as you let out a yelp at his tickles.

“You can’t win against our maknae bond, hyung,” Jungkook snickers as he takes your other side, wrapping his arm around you as well.

“Stop, you’re going to suffocate me.”

Just then, the ding to the elevator is heard and you take their moment of distraction to escape their clutches, quick to rush out the doors and run for your apartment door.

When the door opens after unlocking the code, you run right in towards the first person you see, shoes and all.

“Yoongi catch!”

He looks like he’s just gotten up from a nap and yet when he sees you running towards him at full speed, he doesn’t think twice before his arms are instinctively holding you up when you jump onto him successfully.

“What’re you doing back early?” He yawns when another voice chimes in.

“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be back until an hour later,” Namjoon says.

You narrow your eyes. “Not happy at my early arrival?”

“I was trying to surprise you with a cake,” Taehyung yells from the kitchen, to which you turn to see both him and Jimin busy with frostings and cake batter.

“Tae? Baking?” You get down from Yoongi’s stronghold to walk towards them as Hoseok comes around to take your coat.

Taehyung pouts. “Are you doubting my skills? Why don’t you doubt Jimin?”

“Because we all know I’m a great baker.”

“Y/N, shoes.” Seokjin warns from where he stands, pointed eyes your way, stopping you just before you step into the kitchen.

Hoseok helps you out of them so you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods as he walks over to the shoe rack.

“What’s the cake for?” You step into kitchen territory once approved, peeking over Jimin’s side as he focuses on decorating the cake and seeing the words ‘congratulations’ on it. “Wha..but I didn’t even tell you what the results were.”

“Do we even have to hear it?” Jimin chuckles, stopping midway to give you a kiss on the head.

“You were that confident I’d do well?” Your lower lip juts out, feeling touched by their actions.

“Oh baby, we knew,” Taehyung says, kissing you on the cheek.

“Why is it that you guys spoil me so much? You’re going to overwhelm me.”

“Because you’re our girl, why else?”

Such a calm answer, so straightforward and simple as if that was obvious from the very beginning. They’ve always been like this; considerate and sweet, and when Taehyung pokes your nose and leaves frosting there and you chase him after to exact revenge, when Namjoon scolds the two of you in a calm voice and Jimin shouts at the both of you to not make a mess, Jungkook laughing in the corner, wanting to join in but Seokjin pulling him back, all the while Hoseok and Yoongi simply stands back observing it all, the happiness that bloomed from the very moment you met the seven of them and how they’ve managed to continue allowing you to live in these sweet moments, you know that you will never care for anything else as long as they remain by your side until the very end.

Nothing else in this world matters more than their love and support.

Eunoia // Stories

Summary: Yoongi’s POV from the last scene of chapter 24 in Eunoia

Word Count: 1.004

The house was a ghost of what it had once been. It was clear no one had lived there for a long time. It had been abandoned to the mercy of the elements and the forest, becoming one with the trees. It looked like it belonged there, like it had been made to be a part of the forest. 

“I discovered this on my first trip to the lake. There is something compelling about it that makes you want to learn more about it, about the story behind it,” you said. “Who it belonged to, why it is abandoned.”

“Everything is about stories to you,” Yoongi observed. 

You were full of them, they glittered and danced at your fingertips. You crafted and chiseled stories like a sculptor shaped clay. He remembered the stories you used to tell Hoseok when you treated his injuries to distract him from the pain. Tens of them piling and pulling at him. He had ignored it then. He couldn’t give in because of a few stories that fell like liquid gold from your lips. Your stories had seemed like traps then, something to pull them in and cage them forever. 

Regardless, he remembered all of them. As hard as he had tried to pretend he didn’t care, he had listened to you like an enchanted man.

Keep reading

💜💜💜

cry me a river | the second choice

— summary: an illusion of free choice, it will always be namjoon in the end

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 10.3k

— warnings: none but i do apologize beforehand for any anger/sadness you may feel :)

— PART 16 / previous post / masterpost

May 20XX; Age Six [Kim Namjoon]

“Joon.” Jungwon crouches down before him, his eyes a stare much more serious than ever before. There is still kindness in his eyes, there will always be kindness in his eyes, but as Namjoon looks up at his older brother, even the little boy can tell a storm may be brewing in the corner. “If I ever disappear,” he speaks in a low voice so that no one else can hear but Namjoon, “I want you to take over. You got that?”

Namjoon furrows his brows, a face of fear and confusion plastered upon his little boyish features. “Hyung…what do you mean by that?”

Jungwon smiles ruefully, the hand he has on his brother’s shoulder patting gently. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“But hyung, I..” Namjoon shakes his head, refusing to give into what his brothers’ words imply. “Disappear? What do you mean by that? If you’re not by my side, how can I ever go on, hyung? You can’t leave. I won’t be able to do anything without you.”

“Sure you can.” His voice is kind, sweet, always offering the gentlest words despite how cruel this world is. “I know you can.” Then, Jungwon’s tone shifts. “And I know you will.”

“Hyung?” Namjoon takes a step closer to his brother, anxiety weighing against his chest so strong he hopes it can disappear when he touches his brother’s hands but it doesn’t. Something’s not right. Something’s wrong. And usually, Jungwon’s always there to fix everything for him but this time it feels as if the very source of that problem is Jungwon himself.

And as if he’d disappear right before his eyes, Namjoon holds himself closer to his elder brother, panic settling in his chest in the most uncomfortable way. 

“Don’t tell me…” He whispers, afraid of the answer.

When Jungwon sends him a tight smile, the answer is clear. “It’s okay, I’ll be gone for only a few years.”

“Years!” Namjoon exclaims in defiance. “Hyung, you can’t—”

“Shh!” A finger held against his lips, he quickly shuts the younger boy down as he looks around instantly, trying to sense any other presence around the two of them. But Namjoon doesn’t care for that right now, all Namjoon cares for is the fact that he’s going to be losing his brother very soon.

As if Jungwon can feel just how afraid his little brother is for his disappearance, his eyes settle back on him, large hands engulfing Namjoon’s with a tight squeeze.

“You’ll be alright, I just gotta take care of some things. But just in case, Joon, and this is just in case, got that?” He doesn’t continue until Namjoon gives him a nod. “Just in case something…” He hesitates, knowing that frightening the boy further will only alleviate more anxiety but he also knows that he has to in order to make him stronger. “If something goes wrong, I need you to become the head of Bangtan, you got that?”

“But—”

“No matter what,” he emphasizes with a force. “You have to become the next head. And if that takes you years before you can pick up the courage, let it be. Just know that no matter what, father cannot live until he lies on his deathbed with greying hair. I want you to bring him there before even a strand of his hair whitens.”

“Hyung..”

“I know.” Jungwon nods, his lips tight in a straight line before he continues. “I know it’s quite the burden I’ve placed on your shoulders but this is the only way you can free yourself, Joon. If I’m not here to be the one to take him down, you’re going to have to step up to be the big boy. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I..I-I’ll try,” he says, though knowing he could never. He’s just a little boy after all, and thinking about becoming the next head is something that can only happen in dreams and fairytales. “But hyung, you…you can’t die. Please, hyung,” Namjoon takes ahold of his brother’s shirt, pleading, begging, as his tiny little hands that are balled into knuckle white fists trembles. “You have to survive, no matter what. Or else I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know Joon, I know.” Jungwon brings his little brother into his chest in order to try and relieve some of the stress he’s feeling. He holds onto him tightly as he hides his own fears and unease. “No matter what, I will do all that I can to return to your side. I promise I’ll be back and when I come back, we’ll take over Bangtan together and lead the gang into a new era.”

“You promise?”

“Mmn. I promise.”

That was the first promise Jungwon ever broke.

.

.

.

June 20XX; Age Twenty-Two

“I hope that you will treat my daughter well. She is quite precious to me. She knows nothing of the violent side to things and I wish to keep that pure and innocence with her until the day she no longer walks this earth.”

The Grim Reaper. Said to be quite ruthless and cruel. There were rumors that he had a daughter but Namjoon never knew it was a daughter he cherished so much. Perhaps her hidden identity and the reason as to why she was known to only exist in rumors and fantasies is because the Grim Reaper hides her well in the hopes of protecting her.

Huh.

What a decent father, unlike the man Namjoon wishes to no longer remember.

“Of course. You have my word.”

.

.

.

“Namjoon, are you alright?”

It’s strange the way you concern yourself in his business despite only being in a marriage of convenience. From the first moment Namjoon saw you, he knew you were someone who only held kindness in your heart, but even then this was nothing but a contract.

“You do not need to concern yourself with me. We may be husband and wife but you are not obligated to care for my needs. Our marriage is only a contract after all.”

He hopes you would leave then. You look like someone who would listen to each and every word someone tells you to. After all, you’re even timid around his own boys despite the fact that you are in a position much higher than them. If you had the heart to, you could even berate them without fear of any consequences coming down on you with the power you hold. Obviously, Namjoon would never let you but he knows that even then, having your father’s strength behind you would serve well were you to use that to your advantage.

Thankfully, however, to Namjoon’s relief, you aren’t some spoiled brat who only thinks highly of herself.

“Forgive me, I do not mean to cross your boundaries but I am not speaking as your contractual wife, Namjoon. I am speaking to you as myself. As Y/N. Not Mrs. Kim.” His fingers freeze against his keyboard just as you say, “So I’d like to ask again; are you alright, Namjoon?”

What a strange little girl.

Strange indeed.

Yet…not the bad kind of strange.

.

.

.

You’re a kind young lady who knows how to treat others with respect, though a part of him believes you may be too cautious for your own good. Seokjin could tell right away that you fear them, that even though you try your hardest to be the kind person that you are, you still distance yourself in subtle ways, timid and afraid of things unbeknownst to them.

You hide yourself well, present yourself in a poised and elegant manner, different from what he images a young lady of your age should behave. You’re closer to Jungkook’s age, and although the young boy has his own pasts and traumas he’s dealt with, he’s learned to work well with others and be free in the ways he can (mostly through Jimin’s efforts). 

But you’re different from Jungkook.

The both of you are on the quieter side, but unlike the way Jungkook’s content with his silence, you fall more rigid and timid and perhaps it’s all because you’re in an environment different from that of your father’s estate.

He wonders how you were treated there, how much he spoiled you, how the servants cared for you, and although a part of Namjoon envies you for growing up with a kind father who watches out for your wellbeing, he knows not to get jealous of those things.

Still, it makes him wonder just what sort of reaction you’d have were he to put you in a difficult position.

And through his selfishness, he makes his first mistake and lives to regret it the moment he sees you crying in the arms of Taehyung.

“I was scared,” you confess in a barely audible whisper. “I was so scared.”

He should have never mixed purity with the cruel world he grew up in. No matter how envious he was of the way you grew up, no matter how curious he was to see how you’d respond to being put in a spot that’d make things difficult for you for the first time, he should have never done what he did.

Namjoon was cruel.

A cruel, cruel man.

“I made you feel as if you had no choice to refuse, as if you were nothing but a pawn to me.”

“But, I am a pawn.”

He saw himself in you. In the way you coward before him as if he was still the little boy that he was years ago, trying to look his bravest but ultimately failing whenever it came to confronting his father head-on.

His father always made him feel like a pawn and here he is, doing the exact same thing to an innocent little girl.

“No. You are Y/N. You are not a pawn. You deserve to live just as much as the rest of us.”

He should have never forced you into that situation.

.

.

.

“Want to sneak out?” Namjoon hears a voice in the middle of the night, the tone whispered lowly as if up to no good.

He lets out a silent sigh as he remains hidden behind a wall, taking a small glance Jungkook’s way as the two of them were just on their way back from a meeting. The younger one remains the silent person that he is, not uttering a word as the troublesome Jimin tries to coerce you into sneaking out.

“What, I..-I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Jimin, I’m…did you forget who I am?”

Daughter of a powerful mafia leader, wife to another powerful mafia leader. Perhaps living the life protected by others may indeed be burdensome at times. You have restrictions, unable to live the normal life you’d like, not being able to enjoy the world outside as much as you wish to, being cautious of your identity, and always having to ask permission for every little thing in order to remain safe and secure.

He’s seen the way your father treats you; eyes always kept your way no matter where you go as if cautious and afraid something would go wrong were something to happen. You’ve never lived a life without being under surveillance, have you?

He guesses even the love of a father may be burdensome, just as it is for a child growing up without love. Though he’s glad you didn’t have to grow up the way he did. At least you had people who cared for you and he hoped you’ve had nothing but the best growing up.

“Namjoon will be upset and angry at me if he ever finds out.”

When his name is brought into the conversation, Namjoon begins listening in more intently.

“Oh please,” he hears Jimin laugh, “If Namjoon ever finds out, he’ll only go after me. I promise.”

How shameful of him, knowing just how troublesome he is that he’ll be the only one getting scolded and yet continues on his antics without care.

“I can’t believe in that promise.”

“Huh. You really don’t trust him, do you?”

“Our relationship was arranged, Namjoon wouldn’t let me off if I were to ever disobey him.”

Namjoon leans away from the wall after those words, a hand placed upon the maknae’s shoulder as he whispers, “Watch over them, will you?”

“Hyung?” As he goes on to walk off, Jungkook looks back at him with confusion. “You won’t try to stop Jimin?”

The leader simply gives him a shrug before disappearing into the dark halls, leaving Jungkook to do what he wants with both you and Jimin.

It seems that as the day passes by, the boys are slowly becoming fond of you. Even Jungkook who’s usually very slow upon warming up to people doesn’t reappear before him later that night, leaving Namjoon to guess that he went on the expedition with you and Jimin.

When he asks you about it the next day, you put the blames all on yourself, not wanting anyone else to get in trouble, and Namjoon sighs.

“You are my wife, Y/N, not my prisoner. If you wish to go out, you have every right to do so. However, you must make sure that you have at least two guards with you at all times. You are my wife, after all, even if no one knows of your identity.”

Even if it’s just the smallest amount of freedom he can give you, Namjoon hopes it’ll give you a bit of a breather.

If even a little.

.

.

.

Yet freedom comes at a price and the second Namjoon thought he’d finally be able to see your happiness flourishing, the light that produced flickered away in mere minutes and you’re down on the ground, panicking with fear taking total control until it is Seokjin who has to be the one to ground you down.

“I’m here,” he repeats, “I’m here.”

He goes through a breathing exercise with you patiently, gently, until finally your exhaustion catches onto you and you collapse there right in his arms, falling asleep to the beat of his heartbeat.

Namjoon vows right then and there to give the man who had done this to you the slowest death he can offer.

You were so happy a few days ago, smiling and laughing along after what he had put you through, and just when he thought things have finally calmed down, your peace and joy has been ripped away from you once more.

He won’t forgive himself for using you as a pawn but he’ll kill the one who had scared you and shattered your soft, forgiving heart.

.

.

.

Namjoon fell in love with you just as fast as he had fallen out of love.

Just three years — two years of loving. And Namjoon grew tired of your silence.

Your silence.

Your quiet, quiet silence.

When he loved and cared and opened his heart up, revealing his deepest insecurities and pasts with you, things he never does unless he truly trusts someone, when he broke down his walls and allowed you into his arms, you remained silent.

There were times when you’d lean on them, when you’d turn to them during rough moments, when you couldn’t sleep, when you were feeling insecure about your position in the relationship, when you were afraid of an enemy, when you just needed a shoulder to cry on.

But there were also times when you’d awake in the middle of the night, shutting down and holding yourself together without the tiniest peep. Those were the times when Namjoon had to make an effort. To hold you, to remind you that it was okay to turn to them, to lean on them.

Because they loved you.

There were times when you’d shed tears and say nothing, remaining completely silent. No matter how much effort he had put in, how much they had put in, trying to ease the answers out of you, remaining patient with you all the way, reminding you of their love and care, you wouldn’t say a word about your struggles.

And it hurts because they’ve shared parts of themselves that no one else knew yet there you were, walls still held up high without the slightest crack in between.

Did you love them as much as they loved you? Were they showing you enough love? What if all their efforts were all for naught? What if their love weren’t enough for you to see, to feel, to have, to hold, to cherish? What if they weren’t good enough to keep you as their own?

What if you were better off returning to your father? In a place where you’re used to, surrounded by people who knows you, who understands just what to do when you’re like this? Those who can take care of you in ways they could never?

If you returned, would you be happier?

“Is she even happy?”

“What are you saying, Namjoon?” Seokjin looks at him as if he has two heads, brows deepened with confusion as he pushes aside the paperwork before him. “You can’t just go around coming up with your own conclusions without communicating.”

“I tried, hyung, I’ve tried.” He runs a hand through his hair, biting onto his lower lip to keep his emotions at bay. “But she doesn’t say anything, hyung. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“So you try harder,” Seokjin stresses, feeling irritated he even has to say such simple reasonings aloud. “She’s always been so patient with us, why can’t you do the same?”

“I know hyung, I know.” He knows, he understands, but the longer he’s kept in the dark, the more his thoughts stray away into thinking what if you were better off elsewhere? What if you were better off returning to your father? To your safe place? If he can’t provide you with the right love and care that you need, then wouldn’t it be better for you to return to the Reapers? 

“I feel like I’m not doing enough,” he says as he looks away from Seokjin, trying to hide the overwhelming emotions. “I thought that if I loved her enough, she’d finally trust us with her vulnerable side but what if this love isn’t enough for her? What if all that I’ve been doing has been for naught? What if—”

“Namjoon.” The eldest lowers his voice into a threat, not wanting him to utter any more words.

But Namjoon keeps going. “What if I end this?”

“Kim Namjoon.” Seokjin stands from his chair, feet stomping right on over and without hesitation, pushes Namjoon right up the wall behind him in a harsh and forceful manner. “Don’t you dare say that ever again. Just because the two of you are legally married doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t have a say in it. If you end it for the two of you, you end it for the rest of us.”

“But she’d be happier!”

“You don’t know that!”

“What else am I supposed to think?!” He looks up with a force and Seokjin almost gasps at the sight of tears falling from his eyes. Namjoon isn’t one to shed tears, not like how easy it is for someone like Jungkook. Out of everyone, the leader always keeps himself composed no matter what situation he’s faced with and it has to take a lot in him to finally allow tears to fall.

Seokjin almost takes a step back when Namjoon leans against the wall and slides down, hitting the ground with a thud. He lets his tears flow, not caring to wipe them away, not caring to hide them anymore.

“I can’t love her enough,” he says in a low, low whisper. “My love isn’t enough for her.”

“...What are you trying to say?”

Namjoon falls silent for a moment. And a heartbeat later, he confesses his feelings. “I can’t love her,” he says, “not in the way I used to.”

As his nostrils thicken and his eyes redden, Seokjin pulls Namjoon back up by the collar. “What sort of pathetic excuse were you trying to make before?” He growls, the flash of anger and hurt clearly seen in his eyes. “She’d be happier with her father? Are you serious? Y/N’s silence shouldn’t be the reason for you to give up like this. You know perfectly well how love works. Not everything is exciting and filled with happiness. Sometimes it gets a little dull and that infatuation you felt at first will dwindle down but that doesn’t mean you give up on it the second you feel it. If you can do it with the rest of us, why can’t you do it with Y/N? You love us all the same, why can’t that be the same for Y/N? Was your love for her that weak? You know just as well as I do how much patience it takes to break down someone’s walls and the second you feel you can’t do it as easily as you’ve done for the rest of us, you’re willing to back down. You’re pathetic, Kim Namjoon.”

.

.

.

He knows.

He knows he’s pathetic.

But the more he tries, the harder it is, and the more he comes to learn that he can never love you in the same way he used to.

“Joon!”

Even the soft little nickname that always got him to smile no longer works for you and soon the rest of the boys all catch up to it. Fights break out behind your back and the longer this goes on, the more frustrated Namjoon gets.

He hates how pathetic he’s acting, hates the way feelings work, because he tries, he does, but doesn’t try enough to make things work and soon enough, the way the others care for you starts to irritate him as well. He hates how sweet they are towards you, how they defend you every time he has something to say, how he watches their love for you is kept the same and yet his is different.

And most of all, he hates how kind you still are despite knowing Namjoon’s changed.

He knows you know and he hates how you refuse to address it, wanting to believe in the Namjoon you fell in love with. For a while, Namjoon thought that was fine, that if he too refuses to see his changing feelings, he can come to love you all the same again.

But that doesn’t work and his frustrations get the best of him.

“If this continues, I’ll end up lashing out at her.”

He hates the way the others look at him but he deserves it, he knows he deserves it.

“So what? You’re gonna say it’s better to let her go before any of that happens? Before you hurt her? Return her to her father because she’d be happier there than pretend things are going well between the two of you?”

When Taehyung points out those things, Namjoon doesn’t say a word.

He just nods, and that causes another fight to break out.

The tension grows and grows between them, all the while you turn to Hoseok, the only man who’s unaware of what’s going on around him, finding your safe space in him.

Hoseok who doesn’t know a thing. Hoseok who still loves you more than anything else in the world and you, who clings onto his love because everything else seems to be falling apart. But even then, Namjoon sees the way you hide your true feelings from him, not wanting him to worry and perhaps afraid that if he knew, he’d also fall into the tension that has grown between the rest of them.

Namjoon knows how dumb he’s being, that he should try harder but trying harder only makes him grow more irritated, and soon enough he just stops.

Stops trying.

Maybe if he acts differently around you, maybe if he makes you hate him, it’d be easier to let you go. Because that way you can feel better about returning to your father. He’d rather you hate him than hold onto a false hope thinking he could change and revert back to the old him.

He’ll make you hate him and he’ll force you to take the step into calling for a divorce.

The night Namjoon lashes out on you, Taehyung meets him when he slams the door closed on your face, a look of disappointment clear on his face as he bites his tongue back when the two of them meet eyes. Taehyung’s jaw is clenched, hands balled into a fist, trembling by his side as he tries to subdue his emotions.

“A pawn?” He whispers, scoffing at the disgusting words that left his leader’s lips.

Namjoon looks away, chin protruding.

“You have no right, Kim Namjoon. To tell her such things.”

And when your cries echo softly from the other side of the door, Taehyung lets his own tears fall. His eyes redden as he keeps silent, not wanting you to hear a single peep, while he levels daggers into Namjoon’s head.

But the man doesn’t give him a reaction. He turns away and walks off, leaving Taehyung to hear your cries all to himself.

He stays there for the longest time, listening to you from the other side of the door, keeping himself concealed, hidden, despite his body screaming at him to rip open that door and hold you tightly. All the noises that leave your lips tears him down to pieces.

He hates it most when you cry, hates your tears, your broken state, and he hates himself most of all for just staying there stoned to the floor, not making a single move to walk towards you or away.

He just stays there, listening to the broken record that falls from you, left damaged by Namjoon’s words.

It is until two hours pass does Taehyung actually make a move. You’d gone silent an hour ago but he knows that in spite of your silence, you still cry. That’s just how you are. You hate making the slightest peep when you cry, hate it when others hear you even if no one’s by your side.

You hide all that you are even while basking in your own comfort.

So when Taehyung’s absolutely sure you’ve fallen asleep from all that crying, he opens the door to your bedroom and walks in to find you sitting against the wall, head leaned to your right where the bookshelf lies, eyes shut closed with faint dry tears marking your cheeks.

He steps in and takes a seat before you, watching as you breathe in and out, chest heaving slowly and peacefully. Taehyung lets his tears fall silently for you, hating every moment of this, and finally gets up to pick you up in his arms.

He settles you into your bed carefully and thoughtfully, making sure you’re comfortably tucked in, and just as he’s about to move away, he feels a tug pulling him back in and Taehyung freezes.

For a moment there his heart skipped a beat, worried you had woken up from him moving you around, but when Taehyung looks back to see that your eyes are still closed, his heart only tugs with an ache.

Look at you, clinging to his warmth even in your dreams, as if a second longer without them brings a second more pain into your life and he knows, he knows that he’s hurting you. He knows that you spend nights after nights worried about how strong their love is for you, about being a burden, about not being enough, and so he hates himself most of all for not being the one to soothe those insecurities of yours away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers brokenly when he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. A teardrop escapes his eye, dropping onto your precious skin, and Taehyung cries a little more while trying his best to keep as silent as possible.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he says them in his head, worried you may wake up and pray that you can hear them in your dreams.

He kisses you a few times, delivering apologies after apologies, knowing that no matter how many times he utters them, they will never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

When Taehyung leaves your room after some time, he takes another moment to himself right there in front of your bedroom door, and grabs a handful of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes, all the while knowing that sharp aching pain in his chest will never cease.

Someone’s footsteps are heard and when he looks up, he finds Jimin in the shadows of the darkness.

They don’t say a word to one another but Taehyung sees the way water glimmers in his soulmate’s eyes.

.

.

.

Five minutes.

It takes five minutes for Jungkook to make sure you aren’t returning for him to release his gun and slam it harshly to the ground.

It smashes into pieces with a loud sound but he doesn’t care. All he cares is for the hurt on your face he’s sure was there when he kept his back on you, speaking in short and blunt words to make you turn away from him.

The door is closed after you left but one look at the sandwich you left behind makes a tear fall from his eye.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” you told him, voice kept kind and gentle yet he heard the restrain, the way you were holding yourself back from him. You wanted his attention, his soft smile, his words of affirmation, to stop focusing so much on his targets and turn around to provide you with his full attention in the way he’s always done.

But Jungkook had only hurt you and forced you out the door.

“What does loyalty mean?” He asks Seokjin later that day, eyes hard and demanding after walking in through his door without so much of a greeting, but Jungkook doesn’t care. “If I betray this gang, will I have to pay with my life? Will you kill me?”

The eldest hovers his pen in mid-air, silent.

“I know I owe him my life, he’s done so much for me and I love him but…” His voice threatens to fall apart, jammed against his throat, but Jungkook swallows hard to speak again. “I love her too, hyung.” He lets out a shaky breath and tears fall. Tears only seem to be falling these days. “It isn’t fair, hyung, can’t you say something? Anything? He listens to you, can’t you do something? You still love her, don’t you? If you say something that’ll make him change his mind, we’ll be okay again and we won’t have to risk Y/N—”

“You know just as well as I do Namjoon does not change his mind once it’s made up.”

Jungkook chokes on his tears because he knows. He knows nothing can be done.

Namjoon has fallen out of love and the rest of them has to pay the price.

“It isn’t fair what we’re doing to her, hyung, can’t you see? I don’t want her to hate me and I don’t want to hate her. Why do we have to hurt just because things stopped working out for him? Why do we have to hurt her too?”

“Jungkook–”

“If this was another life, if I was an ordinary man,” he grits his teeth, staring hard at his eldest hyung, “I’d choose her in a heartbeat.”

Seokjin can say nothing to that.

.

.

.

In another life, Jungkook would make you his number one priority. In another life, Jungkook would make sure you were his first choice.

Because in this life you will always come second to Namjoon whether he wants that or not. In this life, he has to choose Namjoon, in this life he chose Namjoon first so he can’t choose anyone else.

Polyamory shouldn’t be this hard. It was working out well for them without any problems in between so why did something have to start going wrong when you came along? You’ve done nothing wrong, you’ve done all that you could, but now your biggest insecurity is biting back at you and there’s nothing Jungkook can do to change that.

He can’t choose you.

Jungkook cries that night, hard, and punches Namjoon against his chest because he doesn’t want to let you go. He loves you and he hates that he’s forced into a position where he has to choose between you and Namjoon.

For them, for the boys, that choice will always be Namjoon.

Because Namjoon was there first and Namjoon is their boss. Choosing between a woman of another gang and the man who leads your gang will only lead you down one road.

An illusion of free choice.

Because loyalty to the mafia comes first. Without the mafia, they have nothing.

“Why, why, why?” Jungkook pleads in a broken voice, the punches he gives out weakening by the second and Namjoon stands there, taking it all in.

They hate it.

They hate it because you’ve voiced your insecurities before. Your insecurities about being a second choice, being left behind, and not being enough for them. You will always be enough for them, always, but when it comes to having to choose between their mafia and you, you will always be the second choice.

“Then…let’s divorce.”

Three words.

Gentle eyes.

A kind smile.

Breaking.

Breaking.

Broken.

They broke you.

.

.

.

“You’re okay with this?” Hoseok sits against a wall, his head lowered with no energy left in him as he asks Yoongi that question. 

The room remains quiet for the longest time as Yoongi holds his breath and Hoseok sits there, the fight in him slipping away as tears fall from his eyes, hidden through the darkness of his hair. Yoongi can tell he’s crying with the way his shoulders trembles and it’s a sight that breaks him.

A sight that hurts him.

“I thought you loved her, hyung, I thought…I thought that we…that…” The lump in his throat makes it hard for him to make out proper words and while Yoongi tries to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, Hoseok only shakes it off with a forceful flick, not wanting his sympathy. “You’re a coward,” he utters with disgust as he takes a stand, refusing to meet him in the eyes. “Just because we weren’t legally married to her doesn’t mean it’s okay to let her fall victim to Namjoon’s abuse. You think you’re not bad? That it’s easier to forgive you because you didn’t do anything?”

He scoffs, laughing bitterly. “No hyung. It’s because you didn’t do anything that probably drove her to end things. Am I good enough?” He quotes your thoughts, uttering them clearly for Yoongi to hear every word. “Did I do something wrong? Was it something I did? Why won’t they look at me? Why won’t they care for me? They still love me, right? Everything’s my fault, isn’t it? Namjoon doesn’t like me but they still do, right? They still care, right? Ah, but if they do then that means I’m forcing them to choose between me and Namjoon. Who will they choose? They’ll choose Namjoon because they loved him first. They love him. They love Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon. And I will always be their second choice.”

Hoseok pushes Yoongi out of anger, hating every bit of this as more tears fall, his rage getting the best of him. “How dare you let her biggest nightmare come true? Made her think she would always be our second choice?”

“Hoseok—”

“While I laid there on the hospital bed thinking everything was fine, that everything was perfect and everything was good, you could’ve done something. Y/N wasn’t ever going to tell me anything no matter how much I begged it out of her. She was hurting and yet she always smiled my way, pretending all was okay and you know what’s crazy? How convincing she was.”

You just missed him, you’d tell him, that you were worried about his injuries hurting him and while a part of that must’ve been true, Hoseok knows damn well it wasn’t all of your worries.

You lied to him and he couldn’t see through those lies. Just what else were you hiding from him? What else did you hide under that perfect dollhouse smile? Living in a world that looked so perfect, filled with so many beautiful things, of sunshine and rainbows, with nothing but laughter and a sweet smile. You filled his world with warmth, with so much care and patience, always knowing just what to do when things weren’t right, when things went wrong.

You always knew.

Always knew whenever his smile was fake, when he felt as if the world was caving in, when he’d brave himself and put on a facade that would fool millions.

Among the seven billion people that live on this earth, you’re the only one who always knew the second something was wrong with him and in turn, Hoseok fell blind to your own sufferings, to your hurting, to your pains.

He thought he knew you best but he didn’t.

He never did.

I’m tired, you told him, and Hoseok’s eyes blind with tears as he looks up at his hyung, a fist ready to land right upon his face if it weren’t for someone holding him back.

Yoongi would have let him punch him but Jungkook doesn’t.

“Hyung, stop,” the youngest one says in a plea as he forces Hoseok away with a protective stance before the older one.

Their eyes meet and Hoseok knows. Hoseok knows he can’t let his rage blind him into hurting his loved ones so he takes a step back, punching the wall instead.

“Hyung-!”

“How did she look, Jungkook?” He turns to him with a force, hand trembling, knuckles bruised as blood drips from his ripped skin.

“Hyung..”

“Tell me, Jungkook. How did she look?” He asks again with a little more force, teeth gritting. “When you forced her to her breaking point, when you stood there doing nothing but watched on, not caring to do a single thing to help her out? How did she look when she took off her wedding ring and said she wanted a divorce? I know you were there,” he takes a glance at Yoongi, “both of you. All of you.” He glances back at Jungkook, jaw clenched tightly as he demands an answer.

The younger one averts his gaze to the floor, biting onto his lower lip as he usually does when he’s trying to remain calm over his emotions. He can feel the tears coming when he remembers your face.

Your precious, precious face.

So broken and defeated.

“She smiled,” he says and Hoseok’s face crumbles.

His lips quiver as he turns back to the wall, punching and punching.

“Hyung, stop! Please!”

Even as Jungkook tries to pull him back, Hoseok pushes him off aggressively. “You don’t deserve to cry, Jungkook!” He shouts with so much emotions it breaks them both. “You don’t deserve to regret it now. Not now, not when everything’s done and over with. It’s too late to cry now. It’s too late to feel guilty for what you’ve done.”

He rips his gaze from the tears that fall down Jungkook’s cheeks, looking away from the both of them as he hits his forehead against the wall. The punches that follow weaken and even with the pain he feels from his knuckles, Hoseok knows it’ll never hurt more than how much they’ve hurt you.

He breaks down again for the hundredth time that day, strength falling weak. “You could’ve done something but you didn’t,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “You could’ve…you could’ve saved her. I love her so, so much. How could you do that to me? To her? How could you…?”

.

.

.

When Yoongi cries, he does it softly and quietly and keeps it to himself. He doesn’t like bothering people, doesn’t like the attention and questions that he earns from people when they do see him cry because he’ll never know what to say.

He hates explaining himself and would rather be invisible to the world than anything else in those moments.

He’s usually good at hiding it when he’s cried. He’ll put on a straight face and pretend those past few minutes of shedding tears were nonexistent, but for some reason, someone always manages to see right through him.

“Hyung?” Hoseok will ask after him but Hoseok isn’t here to look out for him now. He’s got his own tears to worry about.

“Yoongi?” And you’re gone.

Gone from his life because he’s pushed you away and didn’t do anything to stop you.

You’re gone, no longer there to collect after his tears.

“I thought you loved her.”

He did. He does. He does.

But Hoseok’s right; he could have saved you. He could have done something, to have done anything, to have at least made it hurt less, to have protected you from Namjoon’s anger. He could have shielded you from such words that had broken you to pieces but his negligence and the way he left you to deal with everything all on your own had only hurt you more.

He broke you.

Hoseok’s right. He might not have been the one who had broken you down with crude words but he’s still part of the reason you were driven down the edge of the cliff. He’s just as bad, just as bad as Namjoon, and shedding any tears now, regretting anything now is meaningless.

You’re gone.

.

.

.

“Do you love me?” Jimin asks, his voice small and quiet.

“I love you,” Namjoon nods.

He falls silent, eyes still in his lap as he refuses to look up. Namjoon doesn’t know what to say nor does he know what Jimin’s trying to say but still he waits there, patient enough to sit through however long it will take for Jimin to speak again, even if that means missing his meeting.

“Do you love me the same as the day you fell in love with me?” Jimin asks as if that had been the question he was meaning to ask all along.

“I do,” Namjoon answers. “Though if anything, I probably love you more than that day.”

“Ah.” Jimin nods, falling silent once more, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer, weaker, as if afraid to offend his lover but at the same time, knowing he has to say it. “Then why couldn’t it be the same for her?”

Her.

You.

Namjoon’s heart aches when he hears Jimin sniffle.

“Why couldn’t…why couldn’t you love her all the same? I…I was so cold to her.” His voice breaks, trembling. “I ignored her when she sought for my attention, for my love, and despite how many times I pushed her away, she still pressed on a smile as if saying that she understood because I was busy. I wasn’t busy, hell if she asked, I’d stop everything just to spend more time with her — she doesn’t even have to ask and I’d do it in a heartbeat. And yet…yet I…”

“Jimin..-”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes though he feels no courage to wipe the tears that have fallen, knowing only more was to come. “I’m sorry, Namjoon, I know I can’t force your feelings to change but I…I just…I wish things didn’t end like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Namjoon. I’m so, so sorry.”

Sorry for loving you, for choosing you.

Namjoon knows he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve Jimin’s apology. But as he sits there before the younger man, his voice refuses to leave his throat as he watches him break before him, tears falling, head refusing to even look up at him.

They love him and they chose him but in the end, they will always love you.

Why did he stop loving you?

Why did he have to break them like this?

.

.

.

“Do you think I’m selfish?”

Seokjin stops in his tracks just as he was on his way out, pausing to turn around and look at the man who sits alone in his chair, eyes distant as he stares blankly at nothing before him, head in a space elsewhere.

“Yeah,” the eldest admits without a thought and although Namjoon knows just how true that is, it still hurts to hear the truth. “I love you, Namjoon, but…do you really have no remorse?” Seokjin steps over towards him, eyes never leaving as he awaits the answer to his question.

“You know more than I do feelings are things that can never be forced,” Namjoon responds robotically.

“That may be true but that doesn’t mean what you did was right.” He places his papers onto the desk, lips pressed into a straight line. “Hoseok refuses to even look at us and the others…they aren’t doing well. Jungkook has gone completely silent, Taehyung refuses to leave his lab, Jimin doesn’t smile anymore, and Yoongi almost got himself killed the other night because he couldn’t focus. Did you really want Y/N to hate us that much? So that it’d be easier for her to leave? From what I saw, it didn’t look easy in the slightest for her.”

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything, Seokjin continues with his voice slowly growing strained as a lump grows in his throat, threatening to hide his voice, threatening to break. He presses on. “I put up with your play because between you and her, the only choice I could choose was you. This life has tied us down together, I have nothing if I leave the mafia. We owe you our lives and loyalty to the gang comes first and foremost but if I was a normal man who didn’t kill for a living, who do you think I would have chosen in that case?”

Namjoon remains silent upon those words.

“You thought you’d do all that you could to make her hate you because then it’d be easier for her to leave that way? Namjoon, can’t you see? Y/N could never hate you no matter what you do. She loves you too much for that. And yet you forced her to rip that ring off her finger.”

“If she stayed…I would have forced the six of you into a hard place.”

He knows. Seokjin knows.

Namjoon falling out of love would have broken the relationship either way and inevitably force them to pick a side. Allowing you to leave was him making their choice a little easier because they would have inevitably chosen to stay with him.

Loyalty to the mafia comes first.

Loyalty.

But, “That doesn’t mean she deserved what we did to her.”

“...I know.”

.

.

.

It takes a lot for someone like Seokjin to cry. Out of all the members in the group, no one has ever seen him shed a tear and he intends to keep it that way.

So when night falls and no one is by his side, Seokjin leaves the sanctuary of Bangtan’s manor and goes on a long, long drive down a road that never seems to end. Everything is silent when he stops in the middle of nowhere, eyes staring blankly at the stars against the horizon before him.

He remembers one specific night when he thought everyone was asleep, when he thought he was safe all to himself, only to hear a small little voice reaching out to him when he was on his way out the door.

“Seokjin?” You called unto him sweetly, a small croak in your voice indicating that you had just woken up. You rubbed your fists against your eyes, an action that caused him to immediately walk over to grab your hands away.

“What’re you doing up in the middle of the night?” He had asked. This was a year ago when things were okay, when things weren’t falling apart.

“I think I woke up because..hm…someone feels a little lonely tonight.”

“You?”

“You,” you said, eyes looking up right at him and for a second there Seokjin felt as if you had seen right through him, as if your eyes were magic and could see a portal right into his soul. He tried to shake it off, not wanting to make it a big deal, but you asked if you could go with him on the drive instead, refusing to let him be.

There was a gentle smile resting on your face as if you knew, as if all the parts of him that he was hiding from you and the members were unveiling just by a single look from you. He allowed you to ride along with him but kept silent and you basked in that silence, not uttering a single word to push him through anything he didn’t want to say.

No one’s ever seen Seokjin cry but he’s seen you cry before, lots and lots of times. And that night, you cried again right before him when he spoke the tales of his past, the life he lived before he met Namjoon, of the little boy he was who had been exploited by the people around him as if he was nothing but a living doll who had no control over his fate.

You cried hard, words choked up against your throat when you tried to say something until it got too much you resigned to just crying.

“I’m sorry,” you said, as if you were the one who had put him in such a situation, as if you were the goddess of fate that had led him to lead such a life.

In the middle of the night with nothing but the light of the stars up above shining your ways, he held onto you as you cried for him, cursing at the world for hurting the little boy that he was and for putting him through so much.

But he reassured you that he was okay now, that he didn’t have to dwell on the past anymore because he was saved. Namjoon saved him, took his hand, and gave him the life he so deserved from the very beginning.

Namjoon saved him.

Namjoon.

“Please.” The image of you kneeling on the floor flashes in his mind. Your broken voice, desperate and craving for the warmth they once so effortlessly gave you. “Please, I...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A tear falls from Seokjin’s eye, and when one falls, another follows along until the whole dam breaks and there’s nothing he can do to stop them.

He loves you.

Seokjin loves you so much.

But does he really deserve to say any of that now after tearing you down to pieces?

.

.

.

It was a rough, rocky road. Everything fell apart after the divorce and Namjoon took all the blames for it because he knew everything was his fault; Jungkook and Yoongi’s insomnia, Taehyung being holed up in his lab refusing to speak, Jimin’s silence, Seokjin’s anger, and Hoseok’s pains and distance.

They fell into a place darker than the depth of the ocean and Namjoon himself could feel just how different things turned out to be after you left. 

It was odd how things were okay before you came into the picture but the second you left after making such an impact in their lives, nothing was ever the same again. It was like a piece of them was missing, broken hearts that could never be filled, their souls shattered.

Your smiles, your giggles, your kindness, and your warmth.

All of it was gone.

Even the ones who never fell in love with you in the first place could feel just how empty the mafia came to be after you left. You treated the mafia well, after all, taking the effort in getting to know their names, appreciating them for their works, and greeting them with smiles whenever you got the chance. You made an impact in everyone’s lives and Namjoon took that all away from them.

But regretting was something that could never happen.

He could regret and feel guilty for all he wants, he knows he can never get you back. The contract the two of you made in the lone presence of each other wrote out rules upon never seeing each other again, no matter the circumstances.

You wrote that line yourself and it was probably a way for you to properly heal from them. Seeing them would only hurt you after all, and Namjoon accepted the words of the contract.

He has to abide by them.

Everything was his fault and he could feel the weight of that burden shaking his core. But the boys loved him, they love him.

And because of that, eventually, things came back together.

Piece by piece.

With lots of patience and lots of time.

They grew to forgive him, knew that losing feelings wasn’t something that was under his control, but Namjoon knows a part of them will always resent him for the way he treated you after he gave up on trying to keep the relationship together. You didn’t deserve his heartless actions towards you after all, and Namjoon knows that.

It took Hoseok the longest time to return to their side but he came back.

Eventually.

But while the rest of them came to accept the fact that you’re gone from their lives, Namjoon knows Hoseok still holds onto a small little hope from within.

Because whether it was out of romantic or platonic feelings, Hoseok never stopped loving you.

.

.

.

Hoseok doesn’t look at him the same way but Hoseok still loves him and Hoseok still cares.

And perhaps the reason why Hoseok decided to return to his side is because he knows you would rather it turn out that way than be the reason for their downfall.

Truth is nothing was ever your fault, Namjoon can admit that. He can admit that everything was his fault, that he is all to blame, and that a part of him will always seek for an answer as to why he stopped loving you.

He never meant to, never meant to grow irritated, never meant to get impatient, get angry, upset, and made you out to be the villain when in reality, everything was his fault. He never meant to grow envious of the way you grew up, living a peaceful life adored by your father. You told him that just because you grew up differently from him didn’t mean you didn’t have a rough time and Namjoon knows that.

He knows it in the way you have scars down your back, hidden away from prying eyes. He knows it in the way you present yourself, always kind, always gentle, towards anyone and everyone. He knows it in the way you flinch at guns, when you’d wake in the middle of the night because of nightmares, when you’d silently reach out for a hand to touch you, for arms to caress you. He knows it in the way you hold your walls way up high, always there for others but afraid to let anyone in.

He should have been more patient, should have been more careful, but his restlessness and his greed got the best of him. He wanted to know, to hear, to help, to support, but in doing so, grew impatient and snapped at you.

His excuse was wanting to make you hate him and as a result, hoped to create an easier path for you to walk on when you returned to your father. 

But in truth Seokjin was right. He knew, he always knew, that you’d never have it in your heart to come to hate him. You’re too kind for that, too gentle, too forgiving, and too loving.

You loved him too much to hate him.

“Hyung…” He stares at the picture of his precious older brother who in thought still lives and is hidden away somewhere. Namjoon lets a tear slip when he hangs his head, shoulders hunched, elbows resting on his thighs. “Tell me what to do, hyung…”

The only thing that keeps him from feeling too much guilt is the fact that you have a home to return to. A loving father, a loving family, a loving mafia who holds you to a pedestal and would never let anything happen to you.

.

.

.

Bang!

Sweet little Y/N.

Sweet and kind and gentle.

The image shatters like a glass tipped over the table with nothing soft to land on, falling into tiny little pieces with nothing that can be done to put it back to one full glass.

You hold your gun right at him, finger ready to pull the trigger without a blink in the eyes as the roaring thunder pours on and on, the only sound filling up the silence that has walked in.

The loving father that Namjoon thought him to be lies dead on the ground behind you, and the very daughter who, without hesitation, pulled the trigger on, stands before him with eyes he has never seen before.

No light shines in those eyes, not in the way he was used to, as if darkness took control of your heart and snatched away the precious light that once lit up his whole world.

Dead.

What happened to the Y/N he knew?

.

.

.

“I killed him.”

I killed him.

I killed him, I killed him, IkilledhimIkilledhimIkilledhim.

The brother he loves with all his heart, the brother who stood by his side, there from the very moment he came out of his mother’s womb, the one who held his heart, who stood against his father whenever he made a mistake, protecting him, loving him.

The very brother he held onto the hope of finding him someday lost somewhere on this tiny little Earth.

Is dead.

“..When I come back, we’ll take over Bangtan together and lead the gang into a new era.”

“You promise?”

“Mmn, I promise.”

A promise broken. A promise shattered.

“I have a brother. He…he’s missing. I don’t know where he is and I don’t know where he went but he made me a promise that he’d return. I’m saving my seat on the throne for him so that when he returns, he can sit on a chair that’s warm rather than cold.”

“You’re going to give up your seat for him?” You ask, a small little tilt in your head.

“Mmn,” Namjoon nods as a tear slips from his eye. He keeps a pressed smile on his face as he looks back at you who sits right beside him, listening to every word he has to say with much patience and much love. “The throne was rightfully his after all.”

“What will you do when he returns?”

You don’t question his disappearance, you don’t doubt Namjoon when he says his brother will return. It’s been years and those years made his own allies doubt in his words but you, you keep his hopes alive, shining bright in the darkness of the night, without any doubt clouding your thoughts.

You believe that his brother will return to his side and Namjoon smiles just as another tear falls.

“Hmm..I’d love to go on vacation with the six of you,” he says in a jest, chuckling as he imagines the scene. “Though I’ll probably have to stay a few years to help Jungwon out first, get him adjusted back into Bangtan, let him catch up on everything’s he’s missed in the past few years.”

“And then?”

“And then,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close, “we’ll travel the world, go wherever you’d like.”

“Wherever I’d like?”

“Mmn. Wherever you’d like.” Namjoon looks down at you with a gentle smile as you lean in close to his chest, eyes looking straight up at him. “If you could go anywhere in this world, where would you go?”

“Hmm…” You purse your lips, thinking, but the thought doesn’t stray too far because you’re back to answer him in a heartbeat. “I wanna go where the sun never sets. I wanna go to the Land of the Midnight Sun.”

Namjoon chuckles at your reply because it’s such a you response. You hate the night, you hate the darkness. “Alright,” he says as your hand reaches out to brush away the last of his remaining tears. “We’ll go there,” he promises with a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose. “When my brother returns, I’ll take you there.”

“The day of the incident, I watched him with my very own eyes as life slipped away from him. His eyes were lifeless, dead, a corpse. In the same way I killed my mother and father, I killed your brother as well. The man who cared so much for me died at my very own hands. His death was all..my...fault.”

“Joon!” He hears his brother’s voice in the back of his mind.

“Joon!” He hears your voice in the far, distant memories.

Dead.

Dead.

They’re both dead.

The brother whom he loved more than anything in this world.

The woman who once held light to his world.

You stand before him without an ounce of emotion on your face, eyes as dead as the night you held onto Seokjin, crying out two single words uttered in a soft, soft whisper.

“Save me,” you said before falling lifeless right before their eyes.

His hands tremble by his side, fingers crawling into a fist, and he knows, he knows he shouldn’t harm you in any way, not after what you’d gone through in London, not after what Leehyung had done to you. He knows, he knows, and yet the rage and anger, the disappointment and hurt he feels overtakes his control and he lunges right at you in a blinding rage.

You killed his brother.

The first man who loved him without an ounce of hatred in his heart, the first man to accept him and welcome him into this world.

You killed his brother.