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wingsofkpop · 3 years

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Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part One

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, mentions of death and murder, mentions of trauma, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 7,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

A/N: It’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience and support! Please enjoy!

“—this plan is fucking insane!”

“You said anywhere was better than the mansion!”

“That was before I knew you were claiming sanctuary with the very people that sent Teenage Chewbacca to maul Jinyoung and I!”

“It was Minho who turned Changbin! How many goddamn times do I have to say that to get it through your thick skull!?”

The incessant bickering of the two voices gradually lifts Jinyoung from his slumber, reintroducing his mind to the workings of reality. He flutters his eyes open, surprised at the lack of light, and forces himself to sit up. At his sudden movement, his head roars with pain, sending a dizzy spell through his limbs. He manages to swallow the temporary vertigo and keep upright, quickly realizing his current position in the backseat of a car.

“Jinyoung?... Oh thank god—he’s awake.”

“It’s about fucking time.”

“(Y/N)? Jaebeom-hyung?” Jinyoung squints, attempting to map out your and his brother’s silhouettes through the blackness. He manages to pinpoint the annoyed glare of the latter in the passenger seat, thus concluding that you are probably driving. “What happened? How did I get here?”

“While you were taking a snooze, that fucking superwolf broke into our home and nearly ripped my throat out.” Jaebeom snorts, “Of course, not until after he impaled me with my own landscaping.”

“I managed to stake him before he hurt Jaebeom.” You pipe in, “But we don’t think it killed him—only slowed him down long enough to let us get away.”

Jinyoung shakes his head in both confusion and shock, immediately regretting the decision when his brain pounds like a bass drum. He allows himself a moment to pass the ache before cautiously speaking, “And… where exactly are we going?”

“Yeah, Wonder Woman. Why don’t you tell my brother where your brilliant idea for refuge is?”

Jinyoung can feel the intensity of your glare from the back seat.

“I’m taking us to the wolf pack.” You murmur softly, “If anyone has a chance of talking Changbin down, it will be his own people.”

“And as I was explaining to our dear (Y/N), the wolf pack also has a pretty large bounty over our heads.” Jinyoung hears Jaebeom release a heavy sigh before leaning back in his seat, “We’ll be attacked the moment we step foot out of this car.”

“Would you stop being so damn paranoid?” Your frustrated demand echoes throughout the car, “Not everyone is out to kill you—”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies over the centuries, little dove… Killed a lot of people—pissed off even more.”

“Maybe, but I know you didn’t kill Jackson Wang.”

The car grows dead silent minus the heavy breathing of who Jinyoung assumes to be his hybrid companion. He tries to make out Jaebeom’s expression, but it’s too dark. His imagination will have to do.

“Everyone says you did, but I know there’s more to the truth.” You say, “I may not know what exactly happened, but Jackson’s death wasn’t your fault—either of your faults.”

“And how exactly do you know this?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that the pack is our only viable option at the moment, and I need you to trust me on this.”

Jaebeom sighs, “Good God—this is not happening.”

“I trust her.” Jinyoung answers without hesitation, reaching across the council to lay a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. “We have no reason not to, hyung.”

“And why the hell not?” To his dismay, Jaebeom shrugs away from Jinyoung’s touch. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you with my life.”

“Because I could have let Changbin kill you… but I didn’t.”

Jaebeom grows silent again. And although no words are said, Jinyoung knows—and knows that you know—that the conversation ended in your favor. Jaebeom may be a paranoid, narcissistic sociopath, but even he is capable of hope in the darkest of moments.

A sudden gasp disrupts the hushed atmosphere, resonating from beside Jinyoung a mere foot away. For the first time, he notices a third body propped in the seat next to him. The figure writhes and releases a set of whimpers before growing still once again.

“We have another issue.” Jaebeom murmurs darkly, “Changbin bit Tzuyu during our fight, and when I tried to heal her with my blood… it didn’t work.”

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean it didn’t work?”

“Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon that would have the power to kill you and Jaebeom—the only two invincible beings in existence.” Your explanation causes Jinyoung’s heart to sink, “His venom can’t be cured by Jaebeom’s blood, so…”

“So Tzuyu is going to die unless we find a cure.” Jaebeom finishes with a hum, “We better get to it fast cause the hallucinations are already starting.”

“The pack will help us.” You affirm. “I know they will.”

Jinyoung truly hopes that your confidence is well placed. Afterall, it is his, Jaebeom and Tzuyu’s lives all on the line.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do this.” Mark stresses, flipping through the grimoire with enough force to tear the pages. “This spell needs a lot of power—”

“Can’t you do what Youngjae does and channel something? Like a celestial event?”

Mark shakes his head. “Even that won’t be enough. I would have to channel the power unnaturally… through black magic.”

“It’s only one spell—what harm could it do?”

“Black magic is dark magic, Jack.” Mark directly addresses his werewolf companion, shaking his head even more feverishly. “It’s unpredictable… We could offset the balance of nature and—”

“I don’t give a shit about the balance of nature, Mark!” Jackson cuts in, “This may be our one and only chance to get rid of the Primes—to protect our town and the ones we love… Don’t you think that’s a little more important than upsetting the magic gods?...”

“You don’t understand—magic always comes with a price.” Mark says darkly, “I can’t trust what will happen if I use black magic… For fucksake, Jackson—I could kill you.”

Jackson places his hands on Mark’s shoulders, staring deep into the witch’s eyes. “I trust you with my life, Mark… and I know you won’t let me down.”

Mark debates with himself, attempting to find a solution past the chaos of his thoughts. His gut tells him it's a bad idea, but Jackson, his best friend, is telling him otherwise. He’s right—it is only one spell—and like he said, Jackson trusts him…

Mark just has to trust himself too.

“Alright.” He finally nods, “I won’t let you down… I promise.”

“Mark-hyung—Mark!”

At the call of his name, Mark’s mind springs from unconsciousness. His eyes snap open, discovering multiple familiar faces staring down at him. He releases a pained groan, just now recognizing the ache running through his entire body, before murmuring softly:

“What… happened?”

“How much do you remember?”

Mark attempts to pilfer through his memories, recalling his argument with Minho that resulted in the theft of his magic and the moments thereafter where said witch transformed Changbin into a super werewolf. He closes his eyes shut and leans back with a huff.

“How long have I been out?”

Youngjae hums, “At least a couple hours. Minho locked us in the old crypt after you passed out, so we really don’t have any sense of time.”

“Sounds fucking fantastic.” With a deep moan, Mark forces himself into a sitting position. His spine wails at the movement, but he pays it no mind and instead stretches his arms over his head in an attempt to work out the knots in his bones. He also takes the time to survey his surroundings, discovering, just as Youngjae said, to be inside the dingy, crumbling underground cavern beneath the mausoleum. He can’t remember the last time he’s been down here—how ironic.

“I’m guessing Changbin made a beeline for the Project Estate?”

“Didn’t even hesitate.” Youngjae answers, “You don’t think he got them… do you?”

“I honestly could care less about the Primes right now.” With Youngjae’s help, Mark manages to push himself to his feet before finding purchase against a stone pillar. He takes a second to catch his breath, then continues, “There’s an exit down here that leads into a bunch of old tunnels underneath the graveyard. If we can find it, there’s a chance we might—”

“I wouldn’t think about it, hyung.” Mark’s suggestion dies on his tongue as his favorite witch emerges from a dark corner. Beside him, Youngjae releases a surprised gasp while seeming to shrink in on himself. Mark, on the other hand, doesn’t budge.

“Enjoying this villain complex a little too much, don’t you think?”

“You don’t seem very happy with me, Mark-hyung…” Minho smirks.

“Okay—you’ve had your damn fun.” Mark sneers, “Let us all go before I really start to get pissed.”

“Like you can do anything about it anyway, without any magic and all—” The witch wiggles his finger in which the ancient ring still rests. “—and don’t worry. Once the blood moon fully passes, you’re all free to leave.”

“You’re a real fucking psycho, you know that? You really think Changbin is gonna manage to kill both Jaebeom and Jinyoung by himself?”

“I could care less if he does.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, “Why are you keeping us down here? What else could you possibly want?”

“Well, I want to make you suffer as much as possible… but that was already kind of obvious, don’t you think?”

“I’m serious, Minho!” Mark’s hiss echoes between the stone walls of the crypt, bouncing back in his ears like a record on repeat. “Why go to all this trouble to kill the Primes? To mess with me? Are you really that desperate for revenge? That you’d hurt your own people trying to get it?”

Minho shakes his head with a growl, “You all made it very clear that I was never a part of this coven.”

“That is such bullshit!” Mark peers over his shoulder to find Lia emerging from another part of the cavern, followed closely by a quivering, wild-eyed Jisung. “You just never got over the fact that we chose Mark as coven leader—not you!”

“At least I could have kept Nayeon alive!”

“Nayeon’s death wasn’t Mark’s fault! It wasn’t any of our faults!” Lia screams, “Why are you so strung up about this anyway!?”

“Because I loved her!” The atmosphere grows strangely tense at the young witch’s confession, effectively forming the beginnings of a large lump in Mark’s throat. That mass only grows as Minho continues on, “She was the only one who understood me! She believed in me when no one else would!”

Through the corner of his eye, Mark can see the same shock and pain spreading along Youngjae’s features as his own, as well as Jisung’s.

Lia’s expression, however, does not change. “I think you forget that all of us loved Nayeon—all of us are still grieving. It’s not just you.”

“You don’t understand—”

“Then make us understand for crying out loud!” Lia exclaims while throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You go on about all this bullshit that we never try to include you, when it’s you who never tries—it’s you who always pushes us away!

“We’re supposed to be a team—a family… We are all that’s left of this coven, and look at us now.”

Minho remains silent.

A single tear cascades down Lia’s cheek as she shakes her head. “Nayeon-unnie would be so disappointed… in all of us.”

At her words, Mark feels his heart practically sink into his stomach. He notices the blank expression etched across Minho’s face, wondering what could possibly be going through the young witch’s mind. For a moment, he has hope that Lia’s speech actually knocked some sense into him—that he’ll actually make amends and set them free.

But alas… he speaks too soon.

“Apné sà mene…” Mark immediately recognizes the incantation for a boundary spell, attempting to hurry toward the doorway in which Minho retreated towards. His chest smacks into an invisible barrier, sending his body sprawling back to the crypt floor. Both Youngjae and Lia rush to his side to help him back to his feet—a new pain lingering in his side.

He glares at the retreating witch with all his might.

“You’re gonna regret this.”

“Not as much as I regret ever looking up to you.” Minho waves his hand one final time, making sure to flash his ring, before disappearing up the staircase that leads out of the crypt. With a bitter taste in his mouth, Mark watches as he goes, continuing to do so until he hears the familiar sound of a closing door.

He turns to the trio. “Any chance one of you can break the boundary spell?”

“I might be able to siphon enough power from Lia and Jisung to take it down—” Youngjae shakes his head, “—but it will only be temporary. Maybe ten seconds or less?”

“That’s better than nothing.” Mark nods, “When Youngjae breaks it open, you guys will go through the passageways and head to the Wang Cabin to warn the wolf pack—”

“No.” Lia interrupts his explanation, “Minho will be able to sense our magical energy the minute we step foot out of the boundary. You, however, do not have any magic at the moment.”

“You need to warn the pack, hyung.” Youngjae agrees with a nod, “You’re the only one that can get out undetected.”

Mark feverishly shakes his head, “There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you three here. It’s not happening—”

“Don’t worry about us.” Lia says, “I have a plan to stop both Minho and Changbin.”

“What do you mean?”

“Minho bound Changbin’s power to his own in order to complete the transformation.” She explains, pointing up toward the ceiling. “Once the blood moon is over, Minho will no longer have the power to uphold the spell, so Changbin will no longer be able to remain in his enhanced form, which means…”

“Which means we have to stop the spell before the night ends.” Mark breathes, “Okay… How do we do that?”

“Youngjae can siphon Minho’s magic which should give us enough power to counteract the spell completely… that is, if we can get close enough.”

“Once Mark-hyung warns the pack, we’ll have more than enough backup to take him down.” Youngjae adds, “We need to do this now, before he comes back.”

Mark shakes his head again, “I don’t know about this—”

“We can do this. Trust us, Mark.”

Lia’s determined gaze strikes a chord deep within Mark’s chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so serious and resolute…

He’s never seen her look so much like a leader.

“Fine.” He reluctantly agrees, “Let’s do it.”

“Lia? Jisung?” At Youngjae’s call, both of the younger witches offer their hands for the siphoner to take. His own hands glow as he begins the counter incantation, gesturing for Mark to make his move with a nod of his head. Mark does as requested, carefully sliding past a crack in a nearby pillar to enter the secret passageway.

He spares one final glance at his coven mates, admiring the fierce passion along each of their features, before turning into the tunnel and becoming one with the shadows of the night.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Sometimes you forget life even existed before your time in Moon Dye Bay. Maybe it’s a result of your newfound interest in supernatural existence, or possibly due to the close relationships you’ve made throughout your stay. In the entirety of your time of living, you’ve never once called anywhere home, and while you still refuse to commit yourself to such a description, you can’t deny that this strange, little town has come pretty damn close.

Before you moved to Moon Dye, you lived in Chicago for about a year while finishing up your graduate work. Not quite in the city, but in a borderline rundown suburbia on the outskirts. There, you rented a decent condo for dirt cheap and found a well-paying, easy office job right down the street. It was every college student's greatest dream—until it wasn’t.

To this day, your mind still doesn’t recall the event as vividly as it should. Probably in an effort to ease the underlying trauma and fear. Even so, you don’t like to think back on it too much… Who would—when you’re the only survivor in a massacre of dozens of innocent people?

But even so, if it weren’t for that day, you would never have ended up in Moon Dye Bay… nor learned that fairy tale creatures aren’t quite fictional afterall.

You push the thought away to focus on pulling into the nonexistent driveway. The passenger beside you releases a rather loud groan as the car rocks back and forth, but you choose not to comment on his obvious distaste of your driving. You’re too exhausted… and frankly, you just don’t care at this point.

“You guys stay in the car.” You say while killing the engine and shrugging off your seatbelt, “I should talk to them first just in case, so try not to get yourselves in any more trouble while I’m gone.”

Jaebeom clicks his tongue, “Says the one who can’t seem to go one day without being attacked.”

“Hyung—” Jinyoung goes to scold his brother, but your voice beats him to it.

“Last I checked, it was your girlfriend, your proxy vampire minion, and, surprise, surprise, you who have all tried to turn me into a human blood bag.” You exit the car before throwing one final glare at the hybrid, “Keep treating me like some sort of liability, and the next time someone tries to kill your pompous ass, I won’t be so kind as to save your fucking life.”

With that, you shove the vehicle door shut with a little more force than necessary and storm toward the cabin, attempting to push the annoyance from mind. You wouldn’t usually waste your breath on something like Jaebeom’s pettiness, but with the combination of the stress of the current situation and fear for everyone’s lives at stakes, you really don’t want to deal with the hybrid’s need to make you feel like the dumbest person on the planet.

You eventually reach the front door, lifting a hand to knock at the wooden surface. The ominous silence of the nighttime tugs at your nerves as you wait—hopefully one of the wolves is actually up at this hour… maybe you should have called beforehand?

As each minute passes, your patience grows thinner and thinner. Even after another series of rather obnoxious knocks, no one opens the door. You debate returning to the car and discussing a Plan B with your undead squad, but decide to check the backyard first. Maybe the pack is having some sort of late night bonfire…?

You carefully navigate your way around the cabin, using the light of your cellphone as a guide through the darkness. Minus catching your toe on a loose board in the decking, you manage to make it to the back of the cabin unscathed. However, the sight that you find is definitely far from that of the bonfire:

From what little you can see, the yard is completely trashed. Picnic tables lay in splintered halves while other pieces of furniture are either smashed to smithereens or tossed to the side. Even Dahyun’s clothesline is no longer standing, and is instead strewn carelessly across the grass along with its collection of unfolded laundry. A particular sweatshirt catches your attention, appearing somewhat dirty in the minimal light. Once you’re close enough, you take the garment in your own two hands to better identify the mysterious stains… and you almost wish you hadn’t seen it in the first place when the realization settles in your head:

A large splotch of fresh blood is decorated across the fabric like an unfinished painting.

“Shit…” You curse, searching the area for any other possible clues of the pack’s whereabouts. Near the edge of the pond, you discover what seems to be an array of footprints in the mud, leading into the black of the quiet forest. There are multiple sets, you find, and you hope they all belong to the werewolves in question…

You know you should return to the car and report your findings to Jaebeom and Jinyoung, but something in your gut tells you that someone is in trouble.

Before you can dwell on the cons, you push forward into the woods, following the muddy footprints as best as you possibly can. Between pushing away mischievous branches and stepping over lazy logs, you’re almost reminded of the path you traversed before you met with Mina… You can only hope the events that follow this time aren’t as horrific.

“Yugyeom!...” You call softly, trying not to mistake each tree trunk as the silhouette of a person. “Bang Chan!... Anyone out here!?...”

The screech of the nightly breeze is your response. You eventually lose the footprint trail, unable to base your path off of anything but intuition. Your desire to turn back is strong, but you’ve come this far… and you doubt you’ll even be able to find your way back to the cabin at this point.

Your body tenses as a high-pitched wail enters your ears—a wail that sounds oddly similar to that of a human. Against the siren in your head screaming red flags, you head in the direction in which the noise came from. The silence pesters you as you go, practically electrifying your nerves from the inside out.

Out of nowhere, your foot catches some kind of large branch or rock, sending your body sprawling toward the earth with a loud gasp. You manage to break your fall with your arms, ignoring the gentle ache in your wrists, and scramble to grab the phone you dropped on the way down. Your anxiety is practically through the roof by the time the device is back in your grasp, but you muster up the courage and move to continue your search. However, the reveal of something that looks oddly like a human limb freezes your muscles.

It wasn’t a branch you tripped over… it was a leg.

“(Y/N)...”

It takes you a moment to identify the voice between the shock and fear, but all at once, your uneasiness shifts to concern.

“D… Dahyun!?”

After moving your light for a better view, you discover the female wolf slumped against a tree and covered head to toe in what seems to be a combination of blood and sticky mud. Her clothes are practically stained crimson, which you quickly realize is the result of the large jagged rock protruding from her abdomen.

“Holy shit… What happened to you?” You drop to her level to better assess her condition. There are more wounds embedded across her arms and chest—wounds that resemble claw marks…

“It was Changbin…” Your heart practically plummets to your stomach at her revelation. Dahyun pauses to cough—a couple projectiles of blood spewing from her lips—before continuing, “He attacked the pack… but he—he was different… Super strong and super fast and—and… It’s almost like he was—”

“Upgraded.” You finish, “Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon to kill Jaebeom and Jinyoung—the same spell Mark tried to use on Jackson.”

“It was more than that, (Y/N)...” She shakes her head, “Changbin wasn’t… wasn’t like himself…”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a monster…” You allow the wolf to grab your hand, ignoring the sticky feel of her blood against your skin. “I don’t—I don’t even know if anyone else is still alive… I don’t—I mean, I can’t—”

“Shhh.” You hum gently, reaching up to push away the hair melded to her sweaty forehead. Dahyun somewhat calms at your touch, but just from the wild expression along her features, you can tell the poor girl is scared out of her fucking mind.

“We’ll deal with that later, but right now, I need to get you out of here—”

You don’t have the chance to finish your sentence before she’s practically lurching away from you.

“No! You’re the one who needs to leave!”

“Dahyun—”

“He will kill you, (Y/N)!” She hiccups, “You need to run before he finds you!”

“I’m not just going to leave you here to bleed out—”

“She’s right.” You whirl around at the new voice, and to your surprise, discover a disheveled Yugyeom emerging from the darkness. Similar to the female wolf, gaping claw-marks decorate his face, chest and lower abdomen. His arm also seems to be broken and his knee badly dislocated—you can almost see the bone peeking out of his skin.

You hurry to catch the wolf before he collapses, carefully lowering him to lean against the same tree Dahyun is propped against. A pained wheeze passes his lips, but his expression remains as stoic and as determined as ever.

“If you care about your life, then you’ll run.”

“And if I care about yours and Dahyun’s lives?”

“We’re already as good as dead.”

“No—” You shake your head feverishly, “—I refuse to let you throw yourself to the big bad wolf like some fucking martyr, so you either start moving or I’ll drag you by the skin of your teeth.”

Yugyeom’s expression softens. “You sound like Jackson-hyung…”

If it were any other situation, you would have allowed yourself the time to respond to the newcomer’s comparison… but you’d rather not stay and risk the chance of encountering any more surprises.

“C’mon.” You carefully throw Dahyun’s arm over your shoulder, mindful not to push the rock deeper into her abdomen. Once you’re sure she won’t buckle back to the forest floor, you offer your free hand to the third party. “None of us are dying tonight.”

A familiar, malicious chuckle has your limbs growing numb.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Like a creature of the night, a smirking Changbin saunters into view. His clothes are torn and tarnished with blood, yet there’s no trace of injury along his skin. With the little light you have, you can just barely make out the black veins decorating underneath his eyes—the magic is already starting to consume him.

“Listen to me…” You murmur cautiously, maneuvering your body so Dahyun is safe behind and out of reach. “You’re under the effects of dark magic, okay? You’re not yourself—”

“I’ve never felt more like myself than I have now.” Your eyes dart around the area as Changbin leers closer and closer, attempting to find something sharp or heavy enough to knock him out. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any tea mugs or large branches in sight—

“I don’t want to hurt you, Changbin…”

“Really? Cause I sure want to hurt you…” He smiles devishly, “In fact, I’m just dying to rip out your fucking throat after that bullshit stunt you pulled back at the manor—”

“Leave her out of this, Bin.” Yugyeom hisses, clutching his chest while keeping himself supported against the tree. “If you have a problem, then take it out on me… Not her.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll get to you next, hyung.” Changbin suddenly approaches, providing you no preparation as he snatches your wrist and pulls. With the little strength she has left, Dahyun attempts to defend you, landing a couple heavy hits against the attacker’s head. However, it only takes a good shove to send her flying to the ground—leaving you helpless in the arms of the beast.

You try to throw your own punches, but Changbin is both stronger and faster by miles. In the blink of an eye, he has your figure pinned to the ground with a calloused hand around your throat. Your lungs immediately go into a frenzy as the superwolf cuts off your oxygen supply. You claw at his fingers, breaking skin and fighting for breath, but his grip remains as firm as steel.

“…Think of…” You choke—your eyes beginning to roll to the back of your head. “…J-Jack…son…”

“What the fuck did you say—!?”

A loud bang erupts through the area, drowning out Changbin’s demand. Through the dark spots of your vision, you notice a gaping hole in the center of his throat. Another bang sounds, and this time, his head is blown to shreds of brain matter and skull. His grip immediately loosens, permitting your intake of oxygen once more. You quickly scramble away from the now unmoving corpse, gasping for air and clutching your swollen neck.

You’re almost glad it’s dark, so you can’t see the extent to which Changbin’s head had been mutilated.

Your ears are still vibrating when someone takes your shoulders.

“Jinyoung…?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No—no… I’m fine.” You allow the vampire to help you back to your feet. “Is… he?”

“For now.” Jinyoung hums, leading you into a nearby circle of light. To your surprise, you discover Mark carrying Dahyun with one arm and supporting Yugyeom with the other—a large shotgun splayed along his back. “Mark is a remarkable shot… I don’t think you wish to see, but Changbin won’t be bothering us for at least a couple hours.”

You release a sigh of relief. “Great… But now what?”

“Yugyeom says the rest of the pack is holed up in a secret bunker deeper into the forest.” Mark speaks for the first time, “We should head there… We all need to talk.”

“There’s no time like the present.” Jaebeom pipes up, emerging from the shadows with an unconscious Tzuyu in his arms. “I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to be here when this guy wakes up…”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jackson is floating, aimlessly traveling through a white fog in which reality doesn’t quite reach. The Other Side is funny like that—Jackson doesn’t exist in the eyes of nature, therefore, when he’s not visiting the land of the living, he’s merely suspended in a state of nonexistence with nothing but the company of his own thoughts. He’ll spot the spirit of a fellow supernatural every so often, but even then… he’s completely alone.

Until he found you.

A wave of fondness spreads through Jackson’s veins—as if he had drunk a comforting cup of hot tea. In all the time he’s spent in the neverending nothingness, he never once thought he’d be able to feel again… but like a firework in the black of night, you sparked every bit of hope and passion and liveliness lingering within his mortal spirit. Maybe it was your determination that reminded him of his past self, or maybe it was your eyes—so bright with the stars of mortality—that made Jackson want to live again, to experience the warmth of your smile and the chill of your gaze in the depths of a true beating heart.

Something about you just makes him feel so… human.

Jackson snickers to himself before peering over his shoulder, having previously noticed some kind of blurred silhouette in the distance. It’s too far to tell, but he can just barely make out the approaching shape of another spirit—likely a newly deceased supernatural. He prepares to retire back to his thoughts, but is, however, interrupted when an ice-cold feeling overtakes the entirety of his being. Jackson freezes, both from the cold and his realization:

The witches know about his plan… and they’re not happy about it.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“—so once Youngjae siphons Minho’s power, he’ll be able to reverse the spell and turn Changbin back to normal.” Jaebeom keeps his focus on the witch as he relays his explanation to the many other audience members scattered around the bunker. He never thought the day would come where he would actually be working in tandem with Mark Tuan, the motherfucking magician himself, but here he is—

“What if Youngjae can’t perform the spell in time?” The pack’s beta, Yugyeom speaks up from his seat at a small, cardboard table stationed in the tiny kitchenette. He stretches his newly healed knee out in front of him before sparing Mark an inquisitive glance, “What happens then?”

“Minho’s power is the only anchor keeping Changbin alive, most of which he's drawing from the eclipse. Once that power runs out, then Changbin’s form will give out, which means—”

“He’ll die.” Dahyun finishes, pacing from one end of the underground shelter to the other. If it weren’t for the blood stains on her clothing and the large bandage encompassing her exposed abdomen, it would be impossible to tell she had been stabbed only minutes ago.

Being a werewolf certainly does pay off.

Mark nods, “Yes.”

“How long do we have then? Roughly?”

“‘Til the moon goes down, so about an hour and a half. Two hours at the most.”

“Shit.” She curses, “We’re so fucking screwed.”

“Let’s not jump to the worst of all evils so quickly.” Jaebeom fights the urge to roll his eyes as his brother, always the hero, appears from the next room before assuming his perch beside your sitting figure. He hands you an ice pack while still speaking to Mark, “You’re certain Youngjae will have enough strength to disarm the witch?”

“Not really, but it’s the only option at this point.”

“While this pathetic excuse of a plan is super great and all, there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room.” Ignoring the harsh glare the witch sends his way, Jaebeom continues, “There’s a cure for werewolf wonder’s bite, right? Some sort of witchy antidote or spell—?”

“As sorry as I am for your vampire girlfriend, I never thought of a cure when I designed the spell.” Mark’s eyes flash with something akin to resentment, spilling amusement through Jaebeom’s veins like a toxin. “When I want something—someone dead, I want them to stay dead.”

Jaebeom snorts. “Still the same punk ass kid you’ve always been, Tuan… It’s nice to see that nothing’s changed.”

“You’re a fucking prick—”

“Mark-hyung. Don’t.” Yugyeom places a calming hand on Mark’s shoulder, stopping him from storming over to where Jaebeom is currently smirking like a fool. The wolf glances at the latter before shaking his head, “We have bigger things than petty rivalries to worry about.”

To Jaebeom’s disappointment, Mark agrees with a sigh.

“Right… It’s just been a real shitty night.”

“For all of us, it’s safe to say.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the warning look his brother sends his way, shaking his head scoldingly before turning to the witch-werewolf pair. “Could Changbin’s blood possibly reverse the venom’s effects? Similar to Jaebeom?”

Mark shakes his head, “Changbin isn’t a hybrid like your asshole of a brother. His blood has no healing properties whatsoever—”

“But there has to be something.” Your voice immediately cuts the former off, allowing Jaebeom some time to suppress the urge to fly across the room and tear the witch’s tongue from his mouth. “Youngjae once told me that magic always has a loophole, so a cure has to exist—we just have to figure out what it is.”

“I admire your positivity, little dove, but we don’t exactly have the time for trial and error.” Jaebeom peers over his shoulder at a sleeping Tzuyu—who is still showing no signs of possible consciousness or life in general. Her skin is flushed and sweaty with fever, but he can sense how her limbs tremble beneath the poison coursing through her veins. His chest tightens for a moment, only until he returns his focus back onto the conversation at hand:

“Minho might have an idea, but it’s a long shot.” Mark exhales, “Once we take him down, there’s no guarantee he’d tell us—if there is a cure, that is—and with the combined effects of your and Changbin’s venom, I have no clue how long your girlfriend has until—”

A sudden clatter has everyone leaping from their seats. Yugyeom flies to the bunker door in mere seconds while Mark snatches his shotgun from the kitchen counter behind him. Through the corner of his eye, Jaebeom notices Jinyoung usher you behind his form before pressing a small pocket knife between your fingers. The blossoming of the black bruises along your throat sparks rancor through the hybrid’s veins, and he readies himself into his own fighting stance.

“Yugyeom!?... Are you in there!?”

Yugyeom’s hostile expression transitions into one of relief—the tension melting from his body like snow. Although the voice is apparently familiar to the rest, Jaebeom remains tense as the beta goes about unlocking the bunker door. He almost expects a cackling Changbin to come bursting through the trapdoor, but is pleasantly surprised when a new figure comes into view—another limp body thrown precariously over his shoulder.

“Oh my god! Chan—Felix!” Dahyun immediately rushes toward the pair. Her gaze practically alive with fear. “Holy shit—is he alive!?”

The newcomer, who Jaebeom assumes to be Chan, sets down the teenager, presumably Felix, on one of the bunk beds with the help of Yugyeom and Mark. He catches Jinyoung helping a third figure, a teenage girl who can’t be over eighteen, into the bunker as well. Judging by her glassy irises and quivering lips, she seems as if she is going to burst into tears at the drop of a thimble. The group’s collective ragged appearance, Jaebeom knows, signifies the aftermath of one hell of a fight.

“What the hell happened out there, Chan!?” Yugyeom’s demand awakens the hybrid from his trance, forcing him to return his focus to the newcomer.

“H-He found us…” Chan murmurs darkly, “I… I tried to protect them… but he was too strong…”

“How is that possible?” Jaebeom frowns. “Sabrina the Witch over here blew his fucking head off—”

“They had to have been attacked before then.” Jinyoung places a calming hand on his shoulder, which he is quick to shake off.

The strange werewolf nods in agreement, “We took our time to get here—didn’t want to risk running into him again…”

“Wait…” The room grows hushed at Dahyun’s exclamation. When Jaebeom turns toward the female wolf, his annoyance falters at the panicked expression etched along her pretty features. “Where the hell is Chaeyoung…?”

Chan remains silent and still, like a boy fresh out of war, but Jaebeom has witnessed enough in his many lifetimes to see the answer written all along his face.

Yugyeom stands. His expression grim, almost sorrowful, as if he already knows too.

“Bang Chan… Where is Chaeyoung?”

“…she’s dead…” His whisper is barely audible, yet the hybrid can see how deeply those two words wound the crowd around him. “…bled out… there was nothing I could do…”

“Fuck…” Dahyun shivers before burying her face into her palms and letting out an even louder curse, “Fuck!...”

“I’m so sorry…”

Your soft voice carries over the female wolf’s sobs. Fascinated, Jaebeom watches as you maneuver your way across the bunker to kneel in front of a now sitting Bang Chan. You take his trembling hands between your own and peer up at the wolf with the most sympathetic gaze he has ever seen—his own heart can’t help but lurch at the sight.

“I hate to add to the list, but we have another issue—” Mark groans, pulling his hand away from the incapacitated teenager’s neck to press it against his own perspirating forehead. “—Felix was bitten…”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“Dahyun—please.” Yugyeom sighs, “I just—shit.”

“We need to find that cure. Now.” Jinyoung steps forward, turning to speak directly to Mark. “I will go to the graveyard to assist your coven. With my help, it should be fairly simple to disarm the rogue.”

“Don’t underestimate him. You’re still gonna have to put up a damn good fight.”

“I can well manage on my own.”

Jaebeom shakes his head with a sneer, “I seriously doubt that, considering you got yourself poisoned the last time you played goddamn Superman.”

As much as Jinyoung puts up the invincible front, Jaebeom has known his brother for a long, long time—and also knows that the previous encounter with the superwolf left him much weaker than before. He can see it in the trembling of his hands and the pained lines etched along his forehead. He’ll get himself killed long before he reaches the graveyard.

“Jaebeom should go too.” You rise from your kneeling position to join the group. “Two pairs of hands are better than one. You can protect each other.”

“Absolutely not.” Jinyoung disagrees, “Jaebeom needs to remain here in case Changbin resurrects again.”

“We don’t have the time to worry about that. The witches will need all the help they can get.”

Jaebeom scoffs, “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but (Y/N) is right. We don’t know what we’re up against—better for us both to be there than just the one.”

Jinyoung stares at Jaebeom for a brief moment, as if searching his face for some hidden secret, before inhaling a deep, yet silent breath and finally nodding, “Fine. But if Changbin attacks—”

“We’ll handle it.” Yugyeom nods, “Thank you… for doing this.”

“We all have something to lose.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the glance Jinyoung sends in your direction before making his way over to the bunker exit. “I just wish to make sure that no one else dies.” The last bout of final farewells are shared along with the reminder for everyone to remain on their best guard. In an attempt to follow his brother, Jaebeom moves to climb the ladder, but is stopped by the call of his name:

“Jaebeom, wait!...” He pauses—his interest piquing as you rush toward his temporary perch. Your gaze is shy, he notices, but still contains the fire of a thousand burning suns. “Just… be careful out there, okay?”

His response is indifferent. “Not to worry, little dove. I’ll make sure Jinyoung returns to you in one piece.”

“Promise me you both will return in one piece, please…”

Jaebeom’s annoyance immediately dissipates at the stressed enunciation of your words. His cold expression melts into a mixture of surprise and astonishment, mirroring the conflict brewing throughout his chest. He clears his throat, attempting to expel the emotions creeping up his back, before nodding:

“Y-Yeah, sure.” He gulps, “Can you… take care of Tzuyu? While I’m gone?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course. Just please stay alive.”

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, untrusting that his words will make sense if said aloud. After providing you a silent farewell, he climbs the rest of the way out of the bunker where Jinyoung is waiting. His brother offers a pointed glance when he completely exits the safety of the bunker.

“I trust you’re ready for this, hyung?”

“Let’s get this shit over with.” Jaebeom rolls his eyes, “I’m getting real tired of running from Teenage Chewbacca.”

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Text

Perchance to Meet pt. 2 REWRITE

Hi y'all. I'm really sad I have to do this all over again because tumblr goofed up big time. I went to edit this for tags and cleanliness and then next thing I know boom it’s gone. I know it won’t be as good as it was when I first wrote it but I will do my best to recreate what I had. This is what I get for not saving it or not doing so when I TOLD MYSELF TOO 😤 again i’m so sorry and here’s my rewrite

Warnings: suggestive language 18+, i think that’t it!

Part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aizawa Shouta is a simple man. Wore clothes that were best for him, always did his duty as a teacher and an underground hero. He was always able to do the right or best thing when it was necessary. Never afraid to back down from what needed to be done.

So why is he standing across the street on his day off from a place he’s been meaning to check out for weeks? He studies the business card in his hand that has the name and address of the building he’s currently staring at. Just for good measure he triple checks the address and store name-

“Personally Yours, Book boutique!”

Black almond eyes widen as Aizawa’s thoughts are perturbed by the loud blond next to him. He’s not sure why he allowed his best friend (don’t tell Hizashi that) to accompany him today to meet the intriguing bartender and bookstore owner. (Y/n) (L/n). That name and face has been plaguing him over the last three weeks from when they first met. The way her hair matched and reflected her personality, her amazing quirk, her willingness to make people’s lives better...

The way her lips looked incredibly kissable and fuckable at the same time had left him with his hands down his pants many nights.

Aizawa looks to his friend as he sees Hizashi grinning widely from ear to ear, eager about what’s about to happen. It’s been far too long since the blond has seen his friend this worked up over anything, let alone a person! But he knew, deep in his friendly heart, that Aizawa would have done nothing if he didn’t intervene and tell him to go visit her.

“It’s about time you decided to go see her ‘Zawa. It’s been what, like three weeks?”

“You don’t have to remind me.” Yes, he knew. Aizawa knew we waited two weeks and six days too long to finally reach out or do something. But could the world blame him? He’s a teacher and underground hero already looking for the next class of heroes for U.A.; the man hasn’t had a day off in far too long and now he has one. He can only hope that the lady he kept waiting would understand. But she had to, right?

With what seemed like forever, he finally managed to place one foot in front of the other and cross the street to enter the building. The outside looks quaint, almost too perfect for a bookstore in his opinion. It appears to be one story but there might be living quarters on top of it? Aizawa rolls his shoulders to relieve himself of any tension, turns back to his friend before he promptly goes inside…

And immediately regrets his decision.

The loud sound that bombarded his ears was something he did not expect. Children. Toddlers maybe, but obnoxious nonetheless. He begins to question whether or not he should stay based on the loudness in the store. However despite the noise, he feels a sense of calmness and home-ness that he felt when he had talked with (Y/n) at the bar. The bookstore smells of cinnamon and vanilla, a combination he thinks he can get used to. The layout seems to be welcoming as well. In the middle, which he assumes is the check out and help desk, is a circular module that has different pathways leading to other parts of the store. Each pathway leads to shelves lined up with all kinds of books, lit above by medium sized lanterns that give the store its unique glow.

Aizawa surmises that the store is an accurate representation of the bewildering woman he met a few weeks ago. Everything about the size, the layout, the aura reminds him of their plethora of conversations from just one night, and maybe more to come.

He approaches the middle desk in hopes that she would be near. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes that the bulk of the noise is coming from the back, which looks to be a cozy reading nook with bean bag and other comfy chairs surrounded by end tables and ottomans. He can feel the chaotic energy from where he stands.

Hesitantly, he pushes the bell near the cash register.

“I’ll be right there!”

Stunned at the sound of her voice, he waits patiently but also impatiently for the woman that has been haunting his thoughts for almost a month now to appear. His eyes wander to the counter, however at that moment the sound of sneakers hitting linoleum comes closer to him.

“Hi,” she pants out, holding up a finger. “How, whew, how can I help you…”

She drawls out the last part as she finally sees who had called her attention. Seriously, couldn’t this person know that today was extremely busy? But her thoughts come to a halt when she’s met with deep almond eyes and scruff, even though she’s seen it once, could recognize anywhere.

“Aizawa-san?”

“Just Aizawa is fine. Looks like I came at a bad time?”

“Hah, that’s an understatement,” (Y/n) puffs out. Her eyes must be deceiving her. There’s no way he’s actually here. They had met almost a month ago and it was a meeting she’ll never forget. The hard-working woman is never one to make small talk with her patrons but something about him caught her focus and for the rest of the night and the most of these three weeks, was all she could think about. “Once a month we have a local daycare come in and bring their students to look and explore in the store! Helps them get better at reading and finding out what other things they may like.”

The man before her nods in understanding, unsure of what else to say. He had practiced this moment over and over but now that it’s here he’s unsure of what to do.

“I thought you were never gonna show up. But I’m really glad to see you not in a club, it feels more real I guess?” She paused briefly before beginning again. “I honestly thought I made up the whole thing, or that something was wrong with me…”

“No,” Aizawa interrupts, afraid to hear more. “It’s my fault. I’ve been busy with teaching and being a hero.”

“No I get it. I work two jobs too so I understand how busy you are. I’m glad you’re even here.”

The two of them smile at each other, taking in each others features in that present moment. The feel of familiarity reaches them once again, as if everything around them doesn’t exist and it’s just them. Most of the reason he’s never considered meeting anyone is mostly because of his schedule. Many would find it ridiculous how busy the man is but he cares deeply for what he does and bringing someone new into it would be a whole new level of stress he doesn’t think he needs. He’s married to his job essentially, and so it seems is (Y/n).

Their moment is broken when small hand tugs on the pant leg of (Y/n), stealing her eyes away from his. She looks down to see one of her daycare toddlers staring up at her. The little girl, Yuki, unfaltering in her gaze is clearly demanding attention.

“Oh! Hi Yuki, did you already pick a book to bring home?”

The little girl nods and proceeds to lift her arms above her head, making a grabbing motion with her hands. (Y/n) slyly rolls her eyes and picks up Yuki. Holding her in her arms, (Y/n) turns back to Aizawa.

“This is Yuki. She’s a little shy, soft spoken, but absolutely adorable. She’s also one of my favorites because she’s so quiet.”

Aizawa looks down to the toddler in her arms and doesn’t make any moves to approach. The toddler’s eyes widen at the strange man in front of her, eyes boring into his figure to take him in.

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

It takes all of the woman’s strength to not drop the child as her shoulders shake in laughter. Aizawa struggles to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking away from the scene before him. It’s not his fault he prefers to wear all black; it’s slimming and makes him feel comfortable. He’s starting to think that maybe he should have shaved and put his hair in a bun for his day off.

Once his heart has calmed down, he faces the toddler again only to see her being swayed back and forth by (Y/n) as she hums a soothing melody. He knows it’s not a possible thing but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was the most domestic thing he’s seen that actually makes him happy.

But at the same time he thinks about having one of his own with her and wanting to fuck her senseless against-

“So I’m guessing this is your day off?”

He stammers, “Uh, yeah. I was hoping we could do something today.”

“Hmm, do something as a date or do something as friends?”

He smirks at her sass, “I’m hoping for the former.”

“That can be arranged. I close early today so, meet me in front of the store at 7?”

“That sounds great, let me give you my number and-“

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

She promptly takes the child to the back and excuses herself from the desk. Aizawa searches around him for a spare piece of paper and luckily finds an unneeded receipt and a very purple pen. Once he’s done writing he sees her come back without the child.

“Sorry about that. But, ah, is this your number?”

“Yeah clearly.”

“Well geez, maybe I will put you as hobo in my phone just for that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh it’s happening.”

He rolls his eyes at her antics and smiles at her. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about being around her just makes him calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have. But text me when you’re ready.

“And maybe I’ll give you a night to remember.”

***************************************** He winks at her as he walked out and (Y/n) is left with her heart pumping in her ears. Did she really respond to what Aizawa said with “Oh yeah? Well I hope you do ‘cause maybe I’ll make those fantasies of yours come true. It has been three weeks after all.”? What was that?! She can’t just say she knows what he was thinking by the way his pupils had dilated a couple time, that’s too crazy.

Too weird, nope, she’s not weird at all.

Slapping her cheeks to re-center herself, she approaches the back of her store to meet with the children and her co-workers.

“Finally you’re back,” her co-worker, Kona, sighs. “Who was that? You were gone for a while so I know it wasn’t just another customer.”

“It was, um the guy.”

“Shut up!” he practically shouts, “he came here? After three weeks? Are you gonna see him? Please tell me you’re gonna see him?”

“Kona hush, not in front of the kids.”

He shrugs, “Oh sure, when it’s your sex life it’s all secret secret, but if it’s my sex life everyone has to know!”

(Y/n) slices her hand across her neck. “Shut. It!”

“Fine fine,” he whispers. “But you gotta at least tell me if he gave off daddy vibes at least. Big dick energy? Most guys like that do exude it.”

“You are so lucky I love you or you’d be fired.”

“You didn’t say no,” Kona whisper sang back to her. She did her best to hide the way her eyes widened at that but failed miserably.

Closing time couldn’t come quick enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

here’s the rewrite! @kiribaku-queen @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo

#i did the thing #my writing #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha aizawa #hizashi yamada #sorry its so long #perchance

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sleep-is-for-the-sane · 4 years

Text

Unseen Marks

I am in the works of writing this for a Male! Reader and if there are any suggestions for it I’m all ears!

Warnings: Explicit material (NSFW 18+), BDSM type stuff.

Word Count: 1688 words

This is an AU where you have a black mark on your body and that is the first place your soulmate will touch you. When they touch your mark it burns for a few seconds then goes away. That has me thinking about a headcanon where Reid is part of the BDSM scene and yeah, um… Don’t read it if you are uncomfortable with this scene and if you do read it, I hope that I did my idea justice.

_______________________________________________________________________

You stared down at the address then back up at the building in front of you. You had never done this before and your nerves were starting to get to you. Slowly you descended the stairs to the subdivision under the building. When you entered the door, you were met with a small waiting room with red walls and many people standing around.

You shyly looked around the sea of people as a chime sounds drawing your attention to the front of the room. “Alright everyone. Welcome to the Underground! You will notice that there is a number on your information card. That’s the room you will be entering with someone who matched with the desires you gave us. Have fun, darlings!” The hostess said and with that you slowly walked around, looking for room number 7. You found it and reached for the knob but you froze. What if you matched with a sadist? What if you ended up being the victim of a killer and ended up on your teams desk as a casualty in a case?

Or, what if you found your soulmate? Your mark was very odd compared to most peoples. Your tongue was black along with your chin and strips of skin leading up to your cheeks.

No, you weren’t going to scare yourself. You took a deep breath and walked into the room. You saw a blindfold on a small table next to the door which you were grateful for since you had wanted to stay as anonymous as possible to your partner. You put it on and heard the door open again. “I assume you know the safe words?” Asked an oddly familiar voice.

“Yes, sir. Yellow and Red.” You stuttered. You heard a hum of approval as you felt his eyes roam your body.

Slow footsteps could be heard circling you then quiet. He had stopped right behind you. “Open your mouth, Princess.” The voice commanded. You did so, expecting anything but what happened. You felt his middle two fingers enter your mouth and his hand rest on your chin and cheeks. You almost didn’t feel the burning sensation as he told you to suck on his fingers.

You stiffened as you felt him pull you back into his chest. He chuckled, his hot breath cascading down your neck. The arm around your waist slowly made its way closer to your core. “Let’s have some fun, soulmate. Take your blindfold off.” all contact between you and your partner was lost as he stepped back and waited for you to take your blindfold off.

You did so and slowly turned around to meet his gaze. You nervously looked up and found why his voice was so familiar. “S-Spencer?” You wearily laughed out. He just smirked and stepped over to you. You didn’t know what he was doing until you felt cold hands under the fabric of your tank top. You gasped as Spencer pushed your shirt over your head and in one swift move unclasped your bra. You went to cover yourself but Spencer caught your wrists and pulled you to the bed in the middle of the room. You felt him restrain your wrists to the head board. “I don’t want to hear a peep from you right now, babygirl. If you break this rule I’ll have to punish you.” Spencer then started to kiss down your neck to your chest. His mouth soon found one of your breasts and left a sloppy open-mouthed kiss on it before sucking on it. With one hand he started playing with your other nipple. Pulling and pinching. Twisting it and squeezing with all of his strength.

“Hm~”

Everything stopped. Spencer sighed and got off of you. “You had one simple rule and you broke it. Now I have to punish you, naughty girl.” Those words sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes followed Spencer’s form through the room as he went to a wall with whips, chains, clamps, toys, and objects that you had never seen before. He grabbed a few things that you didn’t fully see and walked back to you. He pulled your shorts and panties down your legs in one hard tug and discarded them to one of the corners of the room.

You turned your attention to the array of things that Spencer had put on the bedside table. You first noticed the two metal clothing pins with a chain connecting them but had no time to assess the other objects as your attention was pulled to the cuffs being placed around your ankles. Spencer had put a spreader bar on you. “Spencer, what are yo-Ah!” Before you could finish your sentence you felt him hit your core with a paddle similar to a riding crop (if you don’t know what that is look it up. I can’t explain it very well.)

He smirked and hit you again with a little more force. It stung a little but nothing you couldn’t handle. “You have such a perfect pussy, princess. What a shame you didn’t listen. Now I want you to count out loud.” He growled.

WHACK

“One!” You yelped. He gave no pause between his lashes. He continued adding more force to each one until you were begging him to stop. “Twenty” you whimpered. Your womanhood was a burning red color and extremely wet by the end of your punishment. Spencer sat down next to you and cupped your face, wiping the tears from your eyes. You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry, bubs, but you need to follow commands. Now are you going to be a good girl for daddy?”

“Yes, sir.” You moaned out as he nipped at your chest again, leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your skin. Then you felt something start to insert itself into you. He lifted his head and watched your reaction as he moved the toy around your sore pussy. It was extremely big and filled you up to the brim. “Gah!” was all you could get out of your mouth. Spencer let it just sit as he turned his attention to your chest once more. He took the clamps off of the bedside table and ever so carefully clasped them around your sensitive buds on your chest. Spencer tugged a little at the chain connecting them, making you squirm under his touch. “Spence, please.” You huffed out, trying to get any type of friction between your legs.

He chuckled and kissed your neck, leaving bruises and bitemarks everywhere his lips touched. He trailed down your body at a painfully slow pace until he was kneeling on the bed between your thighs, staring hungrily at your stuffed core. You whined as he just sat there, making you wait. Spencer waited until your breathing returned to normal before gripping the toy inside of you and swiftly started pumping it into you. It made you feel a beautiful mix of pain and pleasure.

You were so close and Spencer knew it. He had been listening to your moans and pleas for more with the biggest smirk on his face. “I’m gonna-” Once again everything stopped. Spencer took the toy and set it aside.

“No, you’re not. Not yet, Princess.” He teased

“No, no, no, please! I’ll be good. I’ll do anything.” You pleaded, your hips bucking on their own.

Spencer thought for a moment then put his face within inches of your aching core. “Anything?” You nodded vigorously. He licked a wet line over your sensitive folds. “Then wait.” You whined as he walked away from you to grab the last unused toy on the table. It was a silicone butt plug and a rather long one at that. Around two inches in width if you had to guess.

Your eyes widened as he lubricated it and ran it along your rear. “Spencer, I-I’ve never!” You couldn’t finish your sentence before you felt him push it into you. The stinging was dull but persistent. You knew that it was showing a bump if anyone were to look at the inner walls of your core. Only seconds after Spencer had inserted it, he had pulled his pants down his hips and rammed his length into you.

It felt tight and painful, no pleasure. “Ah! Y-yellow.” You groaned out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Spencer didn’t move.

“Alright, we’ll stay like this for a few minutes and see if you get more comfortable, Okay?” He soothed, wiping the tears from your eyes. After a few minutes there was no more pain so you bucked your hips to test the waters. You let out a loud moan and continued with your actions. Spencer took this as an okay to move. There was friction that you had never felt before and you loved it. You felt like you were on cloud 9 and you were getting extremely close to finishing. “S-Spencer, I’m so close!”

“Me too, (Y/N).” He groaned. That was it, his groan sent you over the edge. He came soon after. You laid on the bed motionless and he undid your restraints and took the plug out. You both got dressed and walked out to the street. He had his arms wrapped around you, supporting you as your legs were still shaking. He dropped you off at your apartment with a kiss and the sweater he had worn that day.

-The Next Day-

You got dressed in a daze, thinking about last night. You didn’t know why the team was staring at you funny for the first few minutes you were sitting in the bullpen until Derek made a comment. “Looks like you had a fun night.” Your eyes went wide. You had forgotten about the marks Spencer had let over your neck, which were an angry reddish purple color now. You nervously chuckled and covered your neck with your hand.

You stayed silent as everyone laughed. Then you jumped as someone wrapped their arms around your waist. “Yes we did.” Spencer stated and the team’s laughs stopped.

“Oh there is no way that pretty boy did that!”

#Criminal minds #smut #spencer reid #Matthew gray gubler #xreader #spencer reid x reader

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softyoongiionly · 5 years

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La Grande Maison: A Mystery in Three Acts 🎠

The rooftop is your safe haven. It’s your escape from the woes of the world below and, you and your best friends take every opportunity you can to visit this special place. It’s here that time slows down, that all your problems seem to fade away...

But when one of you goes missing, not even the rooftop can save you from the nightmare that has yet to unfold.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (but also this one is mainly about good ol fashion friendship)

Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Word Count: 25k

Warnings (please read me!!!): angst (like seriously chief this one is ROUGH), alcohol use (not excessive), drug use (not excessive), violence, mentions of murder/crime/kidnapping, swearing (excessive), mentions of death, character death (not major), SMUT (18+ only please).

A/N: hello yes. It is me. This one is ALOT my friends. Like holy freaking heck. I am honestly so incredibly excited for you to read this and, I can’t wait to see what you think of it. It’s my actual baby and, I’m kind of nervous cause, I’ve never written a fic like this before so, I really really really hope you like it. If you do, please let me know, feedback means everything to me.

Please Note: Bolded text indicates when characters are speaking Korean

Regarding Taehyung’s French scenes (yes our boy is fluent in french in this fic), I did my best. My french isn’t perfect so, if there are mistakes I am super sorry.

Please please please let me know if you liked it!

I love you all so much, please enjoy.

Act I- Sur La Grande Maison

The rooftop is a place you often end up.

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of misfits corralled onto a dodgy high-rise building in the middle of the city, cigarette smoke wafting in the air.

But you and your friends aren’t delinquents.

The worst any of you has ever done is get a speeding ticket and that only happened because, one of you had dared Hoseok to go over 100 miles an hour on the highway: Hoseok never turns down a dare.

But no, the rooftop is a quiet place despite the shady motel it rests upon and, it’s a place you and your group of friends cherish for different reasons

Jin likes it because; he can spot new street food vendors from the massive height of the building. He’s made all of you try some interesting shit but, most of the time, it’s delicious.

Namjoon has perfect view of the river and, sometimes he separates from the seven of you to write poetry while gazing down at it.

Yoongi doesn’t always join you but, he finds himself dragging himself out of the house to listen to the underground rappers that perform in the club next door.

He thinks he can do better.

He’s probably right.

The rooftop gives Hoseok the space to dance; he doesn’t have it downstairs in the room he rents and, he can’t afford a practice room. So, he brings out his old speakers and amuses the rest of you while he moves fluidly around the concrete.

Taehyung loves to paint the skyline and, the roof allows him a view that he can’t get anywhere else. He’s painted it a hundred times but, he hasn’t used every color; not yet at least.

Jungkook brings his dads old polaroid up every time you guys meet. He takes unflattering pictures of all of you and, you know it’s just for fun but, what you don’t know is that he’s made a collage on his wall of all of them and, he smiles at them each morning as he heads to work.

And Jimin well…

Jimin has a lot of reasons why he loves the rooftop:

His friends of course; he can’t imagine his life without all of the late nights/early mornings he’s spent huddled up with his best friends, laughing so hard he can’t see straight.

The view is amazing, it makes Jimin feel like he lives in a penthouse despite him working three minimum wage jobs just to keep a shitty roof over his head.

But all of those things pale in comparison to his favorite thing about the rooftop: you.

You’ve been friends since high school but eight months ago, he started realizing that the little crush he had is actually full-blown LOVE and, that he should probably tell you soon before he loses his shit.

Luckily for him, you reciprocated.

It wasn’t easy at first, Jimin’s a jealous man and, he let his trust issues get in the way but, after a few stupid fights, he decided he needed to grow up and knock it off.

The rooftop saw it all, the fights, the making up, the making out and, one night when everyone fell asleep, Jimin made you cum three times underneath the blanket the two of you were sharing.

It’s a little filthy he knows but, he gets kind of primal around you, he wants everyone to know you’re his.

But he knows when it’s appropriate to do so and, he’d never try to control you.

Unless you two were in bed together then, there are times when you give him that control.

He always brings you down nicely though, he always kisses your forehead...

You think you might fall in love with him a little more each time.

“Y/N?”

A voice brings you out of your thoughts and, you look up across the makeshift bonfire to see Hoseok smirking knowingly at you.

“There’s an old mattress over by the chimney if you and Jimin need to relieve yourselves...”

There is a small echo of laughter that moves through the group and, you cock your head in confusion, “What are you talking about?

Jimin throws a cigarette butt at him, wrapping an arm around you, “Fuck off. She doesn’t realize she does it...” You feel him tuck a bit of hair behind your ear, smiling fondly at you, “Don’t worry about him, he’s just mad he doesn’t have a girl looking at him like that.”

You turn towards the rest of your friends, “Wait what do you mean? What did I do?”

With chaos in his eyes, Jin takes the cigarette Namjoon passes to him before nodding to you, “You were eye fucking your boyfriend.”

“Shut uuuup.” You answer immediately, burying your face in Jimin’s neck which prompts a pleased round of laughter to move past his lips.

You didn’t realize you were doing it but, you don’t protest his observation.

It’s been nearly a month since you’ve had a night off, meaning you’ve gone without your boyfriend’s touch for way too long.

He tugs you closer to him and presses a kiss to your head whilst everyone else laughs at your expense.

As the night breeze rushes in to move between the eight of you, Jimin holds you even tighter, tugging the old knitted blanket around your body.

“Give her a break, she’s been without dick for a long time...it’s been like a month since we met up.” Taehyung interjects, taking a drag of the cigarette before passing it to Jungkook.

Cigarettes are nearly $10 a pack, so they share one at a time and, pitch in when the supply runs low.

You don’t smoke but five of them do and, you’re kind of thankful your boyfriend isn’t one of them.

“So? Do you guys not meet up in between? Y/N has a studio, plenty of privacy...” Jin waves his hand between the two of you, judgement in his eyes.

Jimin tenses up beside you, not really enjoying the way the conversation has shifted, “We both work 3 jobs hyung, you know that.”

“You’re right. Sex is probably quite straining for you...” Jin smirks, enjoying the annoyance in Jimin’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin’s eyes are narrowed and, you are quickly coming up with a plan to distract your boyfriend from Jin’s teasing.

His not exactly a good candidate for roasting; he’s far too sensitive for that.

“You know cause it’s...” Jin positions his fingers in such a way that suggests that Jimin has a small dick

“Jin-” Namjoon groans in warning but, Jungkook and Hoseok have already started snickering.

You expect your boyfriend to pop off, guns a blazing, eyes alight with offence but, instead he just smirks.

Letting his hand curve around the ball of your knee, he says something that nullifies Jin’s insult,

“You don’t have to have a big dick to be good in bed hyung...”

Jin isn’t phased and he raises his eyebrows as he holds the cigarette to his lips, “That’s something people with small dicks say.”

Hoseok and Jungkook snicker again, enjoying the drama and Taehyung grins from behind his phone, shaking his head.

Jimin’s smirk widens as his hand continues to trail up your thigh, “Do you think I’m bad in bed?”

His question is spoken into your ear and, his breath against your skin causes a shiver to run through you.

“No.” You giggle, leaning into him and, he’s quick to tighten his grip on you, his lips quickly finding the side of your head.

“Now, Y/N...every good relationship is built on trust. You two will never last if you continue to lie.” Jin’s laughter escalates to a full-blown windshield wiper volume and, surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who shuts him down

“Your fiancé made you sleep on the couch with me the other night because, you were too drunk to get it up so,” Yoongi tilts his head as if he’s wagering two options, “you're not really in the position to be talking shit.”

Everyone’s face turns up in surprise as Yoongi, or Mouse, as they like to call him, puts Jin on blast without even looking up from his phone.

“Mouse just ended your whole life bro.” Hoseok cackles, throwing back a bit of vodka as Jungkook leans into him with the weight of his laughter.

Jin waves him off like the unbothered king he is and, gestures to the vodka bottle in Hoseok’s hands, “Mouse’s have tiny dicks too so, he’s just jealous.”

Namjoon literally cringes in his seat, looking at Jin with incredulity, “Mice not mouse’s...”

Taehyung laughs at that, leaning forward a bit to warm his hands around the fire. He looks exhausted but, then again, so do the rest of you.

But it speaks volumes doesn’t it?

That you’re all hear together, on your only days off, soaking up every bit of time you have.

Roasting aside, anyone can see that there is nothing but love between the eight of you.

If you had it your way, you’d spend every night up here.

Jimin reminds you with his lips, just how long it’s been as he places a few kisses against your cheek, “Come play with me.”

You giggle, turning in his grip to meet his grinning face, “You sound like the twins from The Shining...”

Jimin’s eyes wrinkle with his laughter but, he’s quick to place a searing kiss to your lips along with another sinful phrase, “Please? I haven’t seen you naked in a month.”

You shake your head, tucking hand behind his neck to pull him closer to you, “I’ve sent you nudes...”

Jimin’s quick to kiss you again but, his lips pout further and, you notice the scent of after shave lingering around his face.

That shouldn’t turn you on but, for whatever reason, it does.

“Yes you did and, trust me when I say, I put them to good use-” He kisses you again, nudging your nose as he does, “but I want the real thing.”

“Let’s go then.” You whisper against his lips

He kisses you once more before, getting Hoseok’s attention, “Yah, I need your key.”

Hoseok lives on the 8th floor of the motel you’re currently loitering on and, his room is a place you and Jimin often end up during nights like these.

Most people would be weirded out by it but, for you guys, it’s normal.

You don’t bat your eyes at the seedier sides of life, you’ve all lived through it in some way.

Hoseok just smirks, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “Stay off my bed unless you plan on inviting me this time.”

Jimin just flips him off, grinning fondly at him before taking your hand and, tugging you towards the door.

“Don’t be too long, we wanna play poker!” Jungkook calls after the two of you and, although Jimin has a mission in mind, he responds anyway.

“With what money?”

“We’re playing for bragging rights obviously, that shit means more to you heathens than actual money.” Namjoon smirks, taking a swig of the vodka before passing it to Yoongi.

“That doesn’t apply to me; I would sell all of you for an even $500.” Yoongi remarks, taking a big gulp and, bearing his teeth as it burns his throat.

The rest of you just laugh but, before you can add your two sense, Jimin is tugging you behind the door.

He has you pressed up against it immediately, his hands finding your waist whilst his plush lips kiss you with everything he’s got.

You’re quick to reciprocate as your hands slide around the curve of his neck. Delicately, your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck and, it spurs Jimin on even more as he groans into your mouth.

“Christ, what are you doing to me?” He laments against your mouth, causing laughter to bubble past your lips, “It’s not funny...” He laments but, he’s grinning as he does, walking you backwards towards the elevator, “I’ve only been kissing you for ten seconds and, I’m already so hard.”

You tug him through the elevator doors the collar of his t-shirt all while trying to keep your lips connected, “Should I only expect you to last for ten seconds too?”

Jimin grunts in protest, his brows furrowing cutely as he shakes his head, “Don’t make fun of me, I missed you...” He whines playfully, smirking when you hitch a leg around his waist.

“I missed you too.” You breath and, you always marvel at young Jimin can make you feel.

You’re fully grown, sexually active adults and, yet here you grinding into one another like a bunch of hormonal rookies. The denim of his jeans pressing against the soft cotton of your panties hits you right in the pit of your stomach and, you’re honestly a little shocked by how wet you are.

Jimin slides the key card through Hoseok’s door several times before it finally works.

This motel is not a featured business on Yelp.

“Fucking door- ugh Jesus I don’t know how he gets this open when he’s hammered.” Jimin laughs, pulling you close to him as soon as he shoves Hoseok’s door shut.

“I have found him sleeping in the hallway before.” You point out but, the importance of your reply dies on your tongue when Jimin steps back to pull his shirt off.

You don’t hide your reaction either, letting your eyes wander over the masterpiece that is Jimin’s body.

He’s slightly tan from his days working at the pool, his sinewy muscles protruding tastefully against his smooth skin; it’s enough to make you drool.

But to center yourself, you comment on something tangible before you literally start begging for him,

“Your tattoo is healing nicely.” You nod your head to the black ink scrawled across Jimin’s ribs

The word ‘nevermind’ has never looked so good on someone's skin before.

He just smirks, “Yeah, it’s still a little sore though.”

“Oh?” With a tilt of your head, you let your eyes scan over it again, “Should I kiss it better?”

Your question doesn’t get answered because the next thing you know, Jimin has you on the couch, sat astride on his lap with your shirt half way up your torso.

“I want you naked- I don’t give a fuck if they’re waiting on us...”

All you can manage is a nod and, Jimin quickly tugs your shirt over your head.

He connects his lips to the crook of your neck, sighing into your skin as if the taste alone soothes him.

“You missed me too right?” He mumbles causing you to gently tug on the black tendrils of his hair so he’ll face you.

“Of course.” You peck his lips once before pushing him back against the arm of the couch, “See?”

Jimin nearly busts right there when you lean back to pull your skirt up, exposing the dampened material of your panties.

Your boyfriend has a panty fetish that nearly warrants concern. For months, he would beg you to leave your panties with him after the two of you had sex until finally; you were down to your last 8 pair.

He bought you more of course but, that didn’t stop him from begging all over again.

“Fuck these are my favorite...” He winces at the sight, letting out a shaky breath before his darkening irises find yours again, “Leave them on.”

You smirk, letting your skirt down and, pecking at his lips once again, “I thought you wanted me naked.”

He bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it for a moment and, letting it snap back in place,

“I changed my mind. I wanna cum all over these pretty little panties you’re wearing instead...”

Jimin makes good on his promise.

Sex with Jimin is something else.

The pleasure he brings you is so intense it’s almost painful.

It’s almost painful because, you hardly see each other and, if you had it your way, you’d be in his lap all the time.

But, life doesn’t work that way.

So, you take what you can get.

He makes you cum twice on his dick, with his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.

He whispers dirty secrets in your ear and, somehow manages to make you feel both filthy and beautiful all at once.

Prodding another weakness of his, hickies, you help him reach his own release and, within 10 minutes he’s attaining the orgasm he’s been craving so desperately.

“Fuck, I missed you so much...” He croons into your neck, nuzzling his nose there for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you too.” You smile, kissing the shell of his ear

The two of you stay like that for a moment, kissing on one another, relishing in your reunion.

When the time is right, the two of you will share a place one day but, for now, you have to continue working hard and saving money for the things your future.

And speaking of making money...

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your skirt and, you sadly drag your attention away from your boyfriend to see a text from your boss at the nursing home

Xander: Christian called out tonight :/

Xander: you want to work a double?

Night shifts pay time and a half and, it would be another 8 hours on this next paycheck...

It’s like a punch to the chest really.

Because, you have to leave.

One your one night off in nearly a month.

You feel like crying but, you know that’s ridiculous.

Jimin’s face falls as he sees the text on your phone but, he knows that his disappointment will only make you feel guilty and, he really doesn’t want that.

So instead, he curls a finger underneath your chin and, kisses you with a tenderness that he doesn’t often display.

Not that he isn’t sweet with you, it’s just that his lips are sinful and, normally they are working you into a frenzy.

The time you two have together is so limited that everything always feels so rushed but, in this moment, he takes the time to kiss you slowly.

And as he brushes a thumb across your cheek, he makes a promise to you, “I promise, we’ll get our break someday and, when that day comes, I’ll be kissing this pretty mouth of yours every chance I get...”

You smile, leaning into his hand, “I’ll make you breakfast every morning…and we can decorate together our place together and-“

Jimin interrupts your fantasy with a kiss, grinning fondly into your lips, “Anything you want.”

You wrap your arms around him once more, tucking your face into his neck, wishing desperately that you can stay here with him all night…

“I love you.” You whisper into his skin

“I love you too.” He replies, kissing the side of your head

Jimin walks you downstairs to the exit of the motel and, he tries his best to swallow his disappointment.

Your car is in the shop so; you’ll catch the bus right up the street and, try to remind yourself why you’re working so hard.

With a tight and lingering embrace, Jimin says his goodbyes to you, pecking your lips a dozen more times.

“Text me when you get home tonight…” He requests with a soft voice and, you nod, kissing him once more before stepping outside.

Jimin leans against the stained glass, watching you with love in his eyes as you turn to wave frantically at him.

It brings a giggle to his lips as he waves back, feeling an ache in his heart as you disappear into the crowd of people.

Jimin knows he’s never loved another person the way he loves you.

He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

But what Jimin didn’t know is that the agony of watching you leave after only a short time with him is nothing compared to the pain he has yet to endure.

Because tonight is no ordinary night.

Tonight, is the night you go missing.

Kosei Police Station, Thursday 6:24am

It’s been 54 hours since your friends heard from you.

Xander called Jimin, your emergency contact, when you didn’t show up for your shift Monday night.

The group promptly blew up your cell phone, trying any means necessary to reach you.

When there was no reply, they showed up to your apartment and much to their horror, the property manager has no recollection of you returning home.

“How long has she been missing?”

Jimin wants to scream at the uninterested clerk behind the desk.

He wants to scream in general.

The police station should be in full chaos at the news of your absence.

They should be on the phone with every available resource, repeating your name and details over and over.

But it’s not.

It’s eerily calm and, he doesn’t understand why.

“The last time I saw her was on Monday. She was supposed to work that night but, her manager said she never showed up.”

Jimin doesn’t recognize his own voice.

He feels like he’s outside of his body.

“Mhm…” The man drone behind the glass, casually typing a few things into the computer, “And what was her name again?”

Jimin’s blood boils over and, thank god for Namjoon because, he immediately intervenes.

“Y/N Y/L/N. She’s __ years old, she has __ hair, __ eyes and, she was last seen at the Paybrook Motel, Monday night. This isn’t like her to disappear. What is your protocol for these kinds of things?”

The man enters the information before shrugging at Namjoon’s question, “Uh we’ll send a squad car out to do some ground work but, uh honestly most cases like these are resolved pretty quickly, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards the bulletproof glass, “You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t worry too much about it? Our best friend is missing…”

The man nods immediately, as if he’s amending his mistake, “Of course, I just mean- she’ll probably turn up you know, most people do.”

Jimin’s eyes are stinging, he’s trying his best to keep it together but, the fluorescent lights are blinding him, the stale scent of old coffee makes him want to vomit, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

“Y/N isn’t most people…” Jimin spits, his eyes honing in on the man, “She wouldn’t just vanish like this, something must have happened to her, this is an emergency. Why aren’t you sending someone out right now?”

“Sir, this is the inner city, no offense but, people like her disappear all the time…”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “People like her? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Jimin.” Yoongi murmurs, wrapping an arm around him and urges him away from the desk before things get out of hand.

Surprisingly, Jimin follows but, not without sending a warning glare towards the clerk.

Long story short; the police are no help.

They don’t understand the gravity of the situation.

They don’t seem to grasp the pain the seven of your friends are feeling.

Even if they did, it doesn’t appear that they would care either way.

But the thing is, your friends are used to this.

They are used to being let down by the people who they’re supposed to trust.

Their hardships cultivated a unique ability within them each of them.

And that ability was to fend for themselves.

So a plan is made to spread out and search for you on their own.

With heavy hearts and fire running through their veins, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and, Jungkook leave their responsibilities behind to search for their best friend.

Act II- Sous La Grande Maison

Jimin- Chillzzz Ice Cream Parlor, Black Swan Brewery and Pub, Cozy Acres Retirement Home

Thursday 7:38pm-10:01pm

Jimin spent most of the day retracing your steps like a mad man. He went back to the motel and, walked along the path you would have taken to the bus stop, he showed your photo to every person who would give him the time of day. He spoke with subway drivers, businessmen in suits, homeless people but, no one spoke up, most of them wouldn’t even look at him…

He cried beneath the awning of the motel, not even noticing the judgmental looks that were thrown his way.

For good measure, he calls you and texts you another 50 times as he tries to swallow the acidic taste of fear crawling up his throat.

Where the fuck were you?

He visits your boss at the ice cream store but, she says she hasn’t seen you since your shift Monday morning.

He makes his way to the dive bar you wait tables at but, they have the same story except they haven’t seen you since Sunday night.

Everyone at both locations says the same thing though…

“It’s so unlike her you know? To just disappear.”

“I really hope nothing happened to her.”

“Whatever you need, just let us know.”

Jimin feels like he wants to pass out.

He feels like he’s been dropped in the dead center of a nightmare.

But, he knows he has to act quickly

The city has a habit of swallowing people whole and, he’ll be damned if his girlfriend falls victim to its clutches.

He makes a final stop at the retirement home you work in to speak with Xander.

Xander shows his concern for you in a big way; it makes Jimin slightly uneasy.

“Oh my god what are we gonna do? The police aren’t on it? How are they not taking this seriously?

“Jimin, we have to find her man, I would be devastated if something happened to her.”

“She’s my best employee, she’s absolutely precious…”

Jimin has half a mind to tell him to ‘shut the fuck up’

This is his girlfriend.

His everything.

Not Xander’s.

But Jimin knows he’s sensitive right now and, Xander’s behavior is a nice change of pace.

At least he gives a shit.

With all of his leads coming up dry, he decides to visit the one person who just might be able to help.

Someone who always assured him that they would be there should he need absolutely anything.

Someone who just might have the means to operate above the incompetence of the police department.

“Come here.” Lady’s voice is tender and, reassuring as she quickly pulls Jimin into her chest.

He collapses into her arms, an abrupt sob leaving his lips as he clutches the satin of her blouse.

Lady is a special person.

Jimin started working as her pool boy just over a year ago and, she quickly welcomed him into her life.

She was becoming the mother Jimin never had and, in this moment, in the wake of his misery, he needs her more than ever.

“I don’t understand-“ He cries into her neck, her perfume is far too strong for his liking but, he remains close to her anyway, “Where is she? She never does this, she always gets back to us I- fuck…what if something happened to her? What if someone ki- ki…oh my god.” He wants to throw up, he can’t even get the word to pass his lips because, the thought of you being harmed literally sickens him.

“Shhh shhh shh, honey it’s ok, just breathe for me alright? Just breathe…” She coos, rubbing his back gently, her face tight with sadness, “I already have my guys working on it. They got started this morning once the news broke. I’ll put flyers up at the country club as well; everyone I have at my disposal is out there looking for her alright?”

Jimin just nods, he isn’t able to say much through his tears but, her words do calm him slightly.

Lady has resources that Jimin doesn’t have and, for the first time, he is going to accept her help.

She’s offered to assist him many times in a myriad of different ways:

Rent money, tuition assistance, money for textbooks, a new car…

But Jimin’s turned them down all the same; he never wants to feel like he owes someone for something.

He accepts the free food and, the occasional fancy clothes she gifts from her deceased husbands closet and, if anyone thinks of judging him for strutting around in dead guy clothes, Jimin would promptly remind them that he is wearing Gucci and, they are not.

This time though, Jimin doesn’t protest; he will take all the help he can get from anywhere he can get it…

“Let's get you a cup of tea or something, c’mon...”

Lady ushers Jimin to the rich color of her lignum vitae dining table and, she even ensures she pulls out a chair for him to rest easy on.

Jimin practically slumps into it, his body helpless.

Lady already had a pot ready for him and, although Jimin tries to act like he doesn’t enjoy it, she knows Lavender is his favorite...

“The police have her vehicle information in their news report, I’ll have my guys searching for her civic in no time.” She murmurs, pouring his tea and, eyeing him carefully.

Jimin winces, watching the steam rise from his cup, trying to hold onto reality, “Her car is still in the shop.”

“That’s right my goodness,” Lady puts a hand to her chest, shaking her head, “Do you think the person who cut her cables had something to do with this?”

His heart sinks but, he hesitates a moment before responding, dread filling his chest once again, “I- I don’t know maybe? It’s not impossible. It’s been in the shop for the last two months though, it wouldn’t make sense for them to wait so long. Oh god, unless they have been watching her? Do you really thinks that’s possible?”

She brings him into her arms again, the pads of her fingers rubbing gently against his lower back, “There are sick people in this world Jimin. But I promise you honey, we are going to do everything we can to bring her home.”

Jimin leaves Lady’s house with a slightly better outlook.

Slightly

You are still missing of course but, at least he has someone powerful on his side.

Lady is an incredible person and, without her, Jimin thinks he might lose his mind.

Jin- The Night Market, Friday 8:22pm

You all like the rooftop for different reasons, Jin likes it for the landscape of the night market: The neon lights illuminating the different food carts, the bustling movement of all of the patrons eager to try the next deep fried delicacy. As he walks along the wet cement, he smiles to himself, remembering all the times he used to drag the seven of you down here. He always saved his tips from the restaurant, and once a month, he would splurge, buying everything in sight. The complaints would soon cease as he shoved fried cheese in your faces, the desire to eat like royalty overcoming the group. And you would, you’d eat until you couldn’t walk anymore and, Jin would feel warmth blooming in his chest as he watched all of his friends, whom were more like family, eating well. He’s the oldest, he would think, it was his job to watch over the people he loves. It’s in this moment, as he’s reminiscing that he feels despair tear through his heart.

He had failed.

Because, one of you were gone.

One of you weren’t safely tucked under his mother-goose gaze.

Your smile comes through his subconscious then and, it feels like a thousand tiny needles scurrying up his cheeks to prick at his eyes.

You always laughed at his puns, no matter how stupid they were

You always tried whatever food he put in front of you, no matter how strange or spicy it was, you’d humor him.

With a heavy hand, he wipes the tears from his eyes before they can spill over.

He doesn’t have time for pain right now.

Because, tonight he’s at the market for different reasons.

Tonight, he was here to investigate.

The Night Market vendors are an interesting crowd, most of them were older, just trying to make ends meet by selling their creations but, there were a few newcomers that Jin’s noticed over the years.

They were lured in by the neon, the paper lanterns, the money…

They didn’t understand the culture of this place and, Jin resented them for it.

“Yah! You’re the money man yeah? Are you buying me out tonight? Where are your friends?”

Jin is forced out of his inner thoughts and, he meets the eyes of an older gentleman who owns the Mandu stand; one of his favorites.

“I’m not here for much tonight, my friends are busy but,” He selfishly scans the selection of dumplings, plump and ripe for the taking. He points to a pork and vegetable one to the right of the case, “I’ll take one of the pork ones for the road. Is it ok if I ask you a few questions?”

The man wrinkles his brow in confusion, “Me? I guess so, what can I do for you?”

With a deep sigh, Jin pulls out his phone, with a photo of you as his home screen. He swallows back the bit of misery in his throat as he sees your face, before showing it to the vendor, “This is my friend. She went missing three days ago and, she was last seen up on that rooftop over there, “ He gestures to the motel, “She left alone and, she would have walked right past here on her way home. Did you see her at all?”

As he pushes his glasses up his nose, the man squints at the photo, trying to make sense of it. After a moment, he shakes his head.

“Sorry. I haven’t seen her.” His eyes flit over the image again, a bit of darkness lingering in his eyes, “Pretty little thing though…”

Jin immediately rips his phone from the man’s view, disgusted at his comment but, he doesn’t want to make a scene and risk his line of information being cut off.

“Thanks. If you remember anything let me know. I’ll be around for a bit.”

He grunts in response, his interest waning as another customer walks up to his stand.

Jin feels an immense amount of frustration; why the fuck does this man think its ok to gawk at you despite what he’s just told him?

Does he have no heart?

Raking his hand through his hair, Jin takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have time for his emotions right now, he needs to push forward.

He moves throughout the stands, showing your picture to every familiar face that will give him the time of day.

The chorus of no’s that echo back at him, slowing chip away at his resolve and, he feels himself growing desperate as he nears the end of the market.

He hates how suspicious he feels.

He hates that this place, which is home to so many happy memories, is now shrouded with a kind of darkness that he’s only ever read about in books.

He feels sick with the thought of coming back without you; he doesn’t think he ever would.

There is a few stands left, which Jin moves through without success before he finally reaches the Tteokbokki stand.

It’s his favorite and, normally he’d be shoveling an entire tray of it into his mouth.

But tonight, the smell of the sauce makes his stomach turn.

“Excuse me, have you-“ Jin begins wearily but, he’s quickly cut off by the man beneath the umbrella.

“You’re here about the missing girl right?”

The man’s brow rises but, it does nothing to smooth out the valleys of wrinkles between his eyes.

“I am…” Jin crosses his arms, reluctant to continue the conversation as the man smirks salaciously in his direction, “How did you know?”

His smirk grows when he holds up a yellow walkie-talkie, “Word travels fast. I’m guessing you’re here to ask me if I’ve seen her and, I would tell you that I have but, unless you have something to offer me. I’m afraid that’s all I plan on telling you.”

Jin’s face immediately flushes red. Anger floats up beneath the surface of his surprise but, he knows that if he reacts in the way he that wants to, the man will shut down.

“What do you want?” He mutters through the tension in his jaw.

The man’s gaze travels over Jin’s figure before settling on the pocket of his jeans, “Buy me out for the night and, I’ll tell you what I saw...”

A quick scan of his cart shows Jin roughly 3 dozen trays of Tteokbokki. Even if he had an appetite, he doesn’t have the stomach or the means to consume that much food, nor does he have a way to get it back to his apartment.

“How much is your cart worth?”

The man tilts his head, squinting his eyes in thought, “Well, its 3 for a tray and there’s 47 on the cart…you do the math.”

Jin finally does send a glare towards the man; enraged that he’s capitalizing off of his grief but, he types in the calculations none the less.

“$141…” He concludes, showing him the number on his cell phone, “I don’t have that much.”

With a shrug, the man gives Jin a look of faux disappointment, “That’s a shame, I guess my memory is a little hazy then. Maybe I saw her, maybe I didn’t- have a good night.”

“Wait- please I…” Jin takes a deep breath, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “I only have $100 right now but, I can get more. I work at the sushi restaurant up the street, I’ll bring you all of my tips for the next week.”

The man eyes him suspiciously, mulling over his offer, “The next two weeks…”

Jin’s never been so angry in his life and, part of him wants to flip over his cart and, leave him to clean up the mess but, he knows he has to bargain with him.

He has no other choice.

“Fine.” He throws the money onto the counter with a stern look, “Keep the food, just tell me what you know.”

The man takes his time, counting the money greedily, smirking with satisfaction as he tucks it into his shirt pocket.

“I saw your friend leaving that motel you always hang out at. The one across the street-“ He nods to the ratty building, “She left and walked along the road for some time before a man approached her.”

Jin’s heart picks up, “A man? What man? What did he look like?”

“I didn’t get a close look. He was tall and dressed in some fancy ass suit. They walked together all the way up the road until I couldn’t see them anymore. She didn’t look uncomfortable; in fact…it kind of looked like she knew him.”

As the man tells his story, Jin writes all of the details down in his phone but, the last bit confuses him.

He didn’t know you knew anyone that owned a suit.

Suits are a luxury that neither he nor any of the other guys can afford.

So who were you with then?

“That’s all? Anything else you remember?”

The man shakes his head, “That’s all I got for you. Thanks for the cash, I look forward to seeing you again with the rest of it.”

A chorus of snickering comes with his last comment and, Jin finally decides he’s had enough of him.

With a roll of his eyes, he walks away, leaving the hustle and bustle of the night market to slowly fade behind him as he makes his way up the street.

He begins typing a message to the group chat, informing everyone of what he found.

He sees your icon at the top of his screen whilst he does and, it triggers the tears collecting in his eyes to finally spill over.

Namjoon- The Marquee River, Friday 9:54pm

Namjoon loves the rooftop for the view of the river. He loves the way the sun and moon expertly change the color of its surface from a crystal blue in the daytime to an inky black in the evening. He loves the way people congregate around it. It’s such a stark contradiction to the city. Everyone always looks so happy and so patient with one another. Families are sprawled out on picnic blankets, friends are laughing and sharing homemade dishes, lovers walk along the river holding hands…

It’s a magical place.

Well, at least Namjoon thinks so.

The boys tease him for it, they call him Namstradamus and, say he concerns himself with hypothetical situations far too often.

But you get it though.

You’ve sat with Namjoon on many nights while he smokes a cigarette, watching the interactions with the same fondness he does.

You laughed as he did little voices for the people he saw and, listened eagerly as he created stories for each of them.

You told him he should be a writer and Namjoon felt a satisfaction that his imagination could entertain you.

Deep down, being a writer is something he’s always dreamed of.

He wishes he was on the rooftop with you now, laughing and bullshitting.

He wishes he could see your smile when Jimin shouts a raunchy compliment your way and, makes a comment about how Namjoon is trying to steal you from him.

Its all for fun though.

Namjoon doesn’t love you like that but, the way he loves you makes tonight’s task so much harder.

He loves you like a sister and, his sister is gone.

Vanished.

And he has to figure out why.

Namjoon is wearing his father’s coat; it’s the only thing warm enough for this weather he tells himself but, really he wears it because it’s the nicest thing in his home.

It makes him feel capable, even though he’s never felt more inadequate in his life.

There isn’t many people left at the river tonight, the cold weather is keeping everyone inside along with the news of your disappearance.

Namjoon has someone in mind though.

Someone who is always here: the groundskeeper.

Namjoon notices him emerge as people begin packing up their things but, he doesn’t approach him just yet.

He stands back and observes his behavior, carefully planning what he needs to say.

But, Namjoon doesn’t get much time as the groundskeeper has noticed him too.

“What is it you seek madam? I can do anything…anything you wish.”

The voice of the groundskeeper is ominous; it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention but, his words confuse him even more.

“Uh excuse me, I’m really sorry to bother you but, I was wondering if you’ve seen my friend. She went missing a few nights ago, I have her picture here…” Namjoon goes to pull out his phone but, the man stops him with a laugh.

It’s not a pleasant sound, it’s crazed and dismissive, it doesn’t mirror the laughter he normally hears from the river.

It makes his stomach turn.

“I know what the princess looks like madam, I’ve seen her looking down at me many times.” The moonlight shines upon his face then and, it’s enough for Namjoon to make out his features.

He looks filthy, skin alight with grease, hair matted with the same substance, his eyes are blue and unfocused. A giant scar interrupts his features and, Namjoon does his best to remain composed despite his appearance.

“So have you seen her? She would have walked right passed here on her way home.” He flashes the picture towards him anyway but, it only prompts another ridiculous laugh from him and, Namjoon feels himself growing irritated.

“Yep! That’s the one! The princess marked for slaughter, oh but she runs from her fate doesn’t she? She runs and runs and runs runs…..she runs a lot. It’s no use madam, you’ll always catch her in the end.”

As he hears the word slaughter, Namjoon feel his blood boil over and, he quickly grabs the snickering man by his shirt, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man falters with a gasp but, his laughter continues, his breath fowl and unkempt, “She is gone forever. Left to destiny…left to rot…”

Namjoon feels his heart jump in his chest and he tugs at the man’s shirt again, harder this time, “What do you mean gone? Did you do something to her? If you touched her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you, my friends and I will tear you apart!”

Tears don’t aid in Namjoon’s attempt to look tough but, he can’t help himself.

His grief is unbearable and, all this man can do is laugh…

“I have nothing for you madam…what’s done is done.” He seethes, bearing his grimy teeth as he smiles

“Why do you keep calling me madam? You know who I am, you’ve seen my friends before. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The man responds by placing a dirty hand against Namjoon’s cheek, leaning in towards his ear, “You are…a work of art madam, it was a pleasure to serve you…”

With this, the man shoves away from Namjoon’s hold and rushes back to the trashcan, muttering to himself all the while.

Namjoon feels unsafe around him, especially as he notices how empty the river has become so, he decides to get out of there.

He wipes his tears as he moves through the trees back towards the noise of the street.

There is nothing but utter anguish inside of him now.

One of his best friends is missing and, his only lead is a raging lunatic.

He sends his findings to the group chat anyway, praying that someone has more information than he does, praying that this nightmare will come to an end.

Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Saturday 12:04am,

Yoongi hates clubs. There’s too many people, they’re too loud, everyone is drunk and stupid. He doesn’t really see the point in them. However, Ginseng has a vibe he can appreciate. It’s a little more laid back, a little less expensive and, it’s major upside is its showcase of underground rappers. Yoongi’s never had the courage to get up on stage but, he likes to listen from the rooftop. He judges the contestants from a far because, let’s face it, most of them are trash but, he enjoys their enthusiasm. Some of them are actually pretty good though and, a lot of times Yoongi has to swallow the avarice he feels when he hears them. He can rap too but, the only people who know about it are his friends.

They tell him he’s good enough to make it big but, Yoongi never believes them.

He misses freestyling on the rooftop though and, tonight he’s missing your reactions in particular.

You were always pushing him to perform and one day, drunkenly, you had managed to convince him to promise you that he’d perform at Ginseng on his 26th birthday.

That date is steadily approaching and, although he was terrified of keeping that promise, he desperately wishes that were the reason he was pushing through the crowd at Ginseng right now.

But it isn’t…

Tonight, he’s here to deal with bleaker matter: your disappearance.

Ginseng is cheaper for a reason and, that reason happens to be the crowd.

It’s known for its cast of shady characters: drug dealers, con artists, underground fighters, etc.

He thinks it’s a little pointless, walking into a room full of potential criminals, hoping one of them has the heart to spill any information regarding his missing friend but, he had to try.

Yoongi decided on all black for the evening; it makes him feel bigger and, prepares him for the onslaught of human interaction he’s dreading.

Immediately, his chest is met with the hammering base from the speakers, whilst his nose is met with the stench of cheap liquor and, all eyes are on him.

He’s an unfamiliar face in a club that profits off of regular attendees but, he swallows his anxiety and, soldiers on, heading straight for the bar at the back of the club.

“What can I get for you?” A short haired woman barks over the music, sending a mild glare Yoongi’s way.

He notices the tattoos adorning her neck and arms and, he feels intimidated by her presence but, he responds none the less.

“Whiskey neat.” He mutters, sliding a ten her way and, she eagerly strips it from the counter, shoving it into the register.

“You’ve never been here before.” She notes dryly, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the shelf.

Yoongi nods, shifting on the barstool, “Yeah, I’m here to see if anyone’s seen my friend. She disappeared on this street the other night…”

The woman smirks, nodding her head towards the crowd of people, “Do these people look like they’d be up for snitching?”

He glances back momentarily, “No but, I thought I’d try anyway. I have a picture of her…” He pulls out his phone, flashing the image of you towards the bartender.

She gives it a once over before shaking her head, “Haven’t seen her. I’d remember her if I had. Girlfriend?”

“No…” He clicks the side of his phone, shutting the screen off, “Do you know if I could talk to someone who comes here a lot? Like a regular or something? I’m not trying to cause trouble but-“

“These people aren’t gonna tell you shit unless you speak to Jaebeom first and, I don’t know if he’d be willing to talk to scrawny little thing like you.”

Yoongi has to swallow back the feelings he gets from her insult, feeling smaller and smaller under her gaze.

“Who’s Jaebeom?”

“The owner.” She pushes the drink Yoongi’s way, spilling some of it onto the dirty countertop, “He only does business in Korean…”

“Call him up then,” Yoongi retorts sternly, growing annoyed with her attitude and the carelessness with his liquor, “, that’s my native language. Or tell me where he is…”

“He’s a busy man… I don’t know if he’ll have time for you…”

“Ask him anyways.”

There’s a bit of a stare off lingering between the two of them but, Yoongi doesn’t falter, his confidence waxing.

He’ll be a dick if he has to, he doesn’t care; he has to figure out where you are.

She rolls her eyes, grabbing the receiver from underneath the bar before muttering something into it. Something causes her to raise her brows in surprise and, she looks a little disappointed as she passes the receiver to Yoongi.

He takes it, holding it up to his ear,

“What do you want?”

Moving the receiver to his lips, he responds clearly, trying to mask his nerves, “My friend is missing and, I want to know if you’ve seen her. Or if you know anything about her disappearance.”

The man chuckles deeply on the other end of the line, “Am I a suspect?”

“Everyone is. But I’m not a cop; I’m just here to see if anyone has seen anything.”

“And the police? Do they know about your little friend?”

Yoongi grasps the receiver firmer, attempting to amp up his toughness as he responds, “The police are fucking useless. Look, just let me show you here picture, if you haven’t seen her, I’ll leave.”

There’s only a bit of silence but, it’s enough to get his heart racing before he finally gets a reply, “Second floor, room 632. Don’t make me wait for you.”

Yoongi obliges, pounding his drink and rushing off to meet the man behind the voice.

Jaebeom seems to tower over Yoongi despite the mere inches he has on him and, he looks more intimidating than Yoongi ever could.

Three facial piercings, arms wrapped completely in tattoos, loose tank top adorning his muscular figure; if Yoongi were in a different world, he’d be wishing he was meeting this stranger in his room for different reasons.

“Let’s see it then…”

Yoongi shows him the photo of you and much to his surprise, Jaebeom nods, pointing a finger towards it, “I’ve seen her before, not recently though. She came in a few months ago and bought a bottle of Midori from me. She’s your girlfriend?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, she’s with my other friend but, you’ve seen her? Did she come in alone?”

The room smells of marijuana and as Jaebeom lifts a joint to his lips, Yoongi can see why.

He nods, blowing out a billow of smoke, careless to where it ends up, “She was alone yes, I didn’t speak to her much. She was polite, left me a tip, batted her eyes a bit and left. She’s cute, it’s a shame she’s taken.” He smirks, lifting the joint to his mouth again, “Both literally and figuratively….”

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, attempting to calm down, “You haven’t seen her since?”

“No. Honestly, why are you here? Do you really think my guys are into kidnapping? There are plenty of hot woman downstairs. No one is looking to steal. You’re on the wrong side of town for this shit. “

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jaebeom flicks the ash onto the floor, nodding to the window beside him, “You should be asking questions in the Upside. They hunt poor bitches like that for sport.”

Yoongi’s anger floods his brain before he can process everything he’s said, “Watch your mouth. She has a name and, I suggest you learn it before I-“

With a puffed out chest, Jaebeom steps toward Yoongi, “Before what huh?”

Yoongi moves back, shaking his head, “Nothing I-“ He sighs, holding his hands up, “I’m sorry. I’m angry, its been a long week. My friends and I just want her home.”

Jaebeom deflates a bit, scanning over the smaller man in front of him, “My sister disappeared two years ago. Same street. Like I said,” Jaebum plops down in his arm chair, sadness flashes through his eyes, “You’re in the wrong part of town…”

He nods, biting his lip at Jaebeom’s admission, “Did they ever find her?”

“They might have…” He takes a hit of the joint, blowing it out with a scoff, “if they fucking looked.”

Yoongi’s blood runs cold then, seeing the similarities between the two situations.

No one cares about the people who disappear from this part of town.

He leaves Jaebeom’s room, feeling worse than when he had arrived but, he reports his findings to the group chat anyway.

Maybe Jaebeom was right, maybe him and his friends were looking on the wrong side of town…

Jungkook and Hoseok- The Paybrook Motel, Saturday 7:07am

Jungkook and Hoseok are newer to the harshness of the city. They come from sweet families, with good intentions. The lack of financial resources is compensated with a lot of love and encouragement. Their lives were similar: simple and sweet. They didn’t have too many run ins with childhood trauma or absent parental figures; they loved their home life, probably to a fault. But given their lack of money and their love of their friends, they also found reasons to love the rooftop. Hoseok uses the concrete as an affordable practice space and Jungkook uses the view as the main muse for his photography.

You’re running through their head as they approach the motel.

Hoseok feels a pang of sadness in his chest as he remembers all the times you would cheer him on from your lawn chair, calling him the b-boy of the year, smiling from ear to ear even when he fucks up his choreography.

Jungkook remembers showing you an album he made of the summer the eight of you had. He remembers you growing teary eyed as he neared the end and, telling him what an amazing photographer he was. He swallows back his tears, gripping Hoseok’s hand as they approach the entrance to the motel, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” Hoseok looks uneasily toward their connected hands, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “I just don’t want them to say anything to you.”

Jungkook looks down, his chestnut irises narrowed in confusion, “But, we’re just friends hyung...”

Hoseok nods, sending a sweet smile towards his pure friend, “I know Kook but, they don’t know that. I promise I’ll hold it as soon we leave ok?”

And Jungkook really has to act like this doesn’t further his misery, sniffling once as he finally nods, pulling away from his best friend, naïve to his reasons for ending their platonic affection.

Hoseok pats his arm before swinging open the stained-glass door to the motel, allowing Jungkook to step in front of him.

There is a woman sitting behind the counter, staring intently at her computer screen, not even bothering to look up at the two men that have just entered.

“Good morning.” Hoseok sends a watery smile her way, which she doesn’t reciprocate.

In fact, she doesn’t even look his way but, instead she shoves a piece of paper across the wooden countertop, “Fill this out, there’s only two rooms available- “ At this point, she does eye the two of them with a judging glance, “single beds only.”

“We don’t need a room mam we-” Hoseok begins, feeling rather annoyed but, Jungkook cuts him off and, practically shoves his phone over the counter.

“This is our friend, her name is Y/N and, she went missing four days ago and, the last place we saw her is here. Have you seen her? Do you remember if anything suspicious happened?”

Jungkook’s voice is reedy, full of desperation to the point that he grows a little out of breath.

Hoseok had a plan with a little more finesse but, he knows how desperate Jungkook is to find you.

He feels the same way...

The woman looks affronted by his sudden outburst but, she glances at his phone anyway. It’s only for a moment before she brings her attention Hoseok’s way, not bothering to address Jungkook.

“Nope. I’ve never seen her, sorry.”

The dismissiveness in her tone surprises Hoseok. He was expecting her to keep her responses to a minimum but, her lie takes him back.

“Wait are you serious? I live on the 8th floor, my friends come in here all the time. There’s no way you’ve never seen her before.”

He steps closer to the counter and, the way the woman looks up stirs something inside of him.

It’s unsettling and insidious.

It’s as if she’s deceiving them and, she wants them to know she’s deceiving them.

“I’ve seen you here before,” She shrugs, conceding with part of his point, “but I’ve never seen her. Although, I’m surprised she doesn’t rent a room here too, she looks like the type.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hoseok feels the venom in his tone and, although it’s unlike him to lose his temper, something about this woman enrages him.

“Hyung please...” Jungkook’s soft plea paired with a hand to his lower back is enough for Hoseok to back down for the moment but, his nerves are still alight with suspicion. “Mam, we’re really sorry, we’re just worried about our friend. She’s been missing for a while and the police aren’t really doing anything. Are you sure that you’ve never seen her?”

The woman seems to soften a bit momentarily but, as something on her computer seems to move suddenly into her view, she toughens up again, shaking her head.

“Never. Is there anything else we- I can do for you?”

Hoseok grits his teeth, restraining his urges to throw her glass of iced tea into her face.

“No, I guess not.”

She offers a thin smile, that doesn’t reach her eyes, “Have a nice day then. Thank you for visiting The Paybrook Motel.”

Before Hoseok can throw an insult her way, Jungkook offers a pleasant goodbye before practically dragging his hyung out of the lobby.

“Yah! Why were you so easy on her? She’s obviously lying! Did you see the look on her face? She knows something Jungkook, I’m telling you she does...” Hoseok is ablaze with frustration, moving quickly to the end of the awning that decorates the front of the motel.

He’s waiting for Jungkook to join him but, instead he sees his friend moving aimlessly towards him, tears in his eyes.

The sight makes Hoseok’s heart ache.

“Hyung...don’t you get it? No one wants to help us.” His voice is wavering through his sadness, doing it’s best to keep afloat, “Even if she knows something, she doesn’t want to tell us. The police won’t help, the signs we put up are all in the sewer by now- no one gives a shit that she’s gone.”

At this moment, Jungkook breaks down, his tears finally streaming down his face. He stops in the middle of the walkway, disregarding the confused looks from the patrons heading into the building.

“Shit Kookie, don’t cry ok?”

Hoseok rushes over to him in the midst of his hypocrisy, because he’s crying too.

He hasn’t cried since you disappeared but, seeing his best friend break down and, knowing that life would never again be the same crushes him in a way he can’t handle.

“Come here...come here. Hyung is here ok? Ok? We gotta pull it together.” He sniffles, pulling Jungkook into his arms, placing a kiss on top of his head.

Jungkook doesn’t let up and, continues to cry silently into Hoseok’s t-shirt.

“I just want her to come home hyung...”

Hoseok nods immediately, tilting his head back to slow his tears. It’s a useless endeavor but, he tries anyway until a man’s voice interrupts their moment.

“I saw her.”

Hoseok and Jungkook are quick to pull away, turning their attention towards the voice in question.

It’s obvious the man is a security guard of some kind but, Hoseok has never seen him before.

“Excuse me?”

The man nods to the rooftop, “I saw your friend the night she left here.”

Hoseok approaches the man, noticing the way he seems to shrink away from his presence, “What did you see? Did you see anyone with her?”

He nods, “Yeah, that small dude you hang out with, the messy hair...he was wearing a yellow shirt?”

Jungkook moves to stand behind Hoseok, “That’s her boyfriend. He’s one of our friends too, he walked her out that night. He came right back up though, did you see anyone else?”

The security guard smirks, “Hm that’s interesting.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes, “Why?”

The guard nods to the street parallel to the conversation, “Because she met up with someone else...”

Jungkook and Hoseok make eye contact then, a bit of shock running through them.

“Who was it?”

The guard chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, his indifference insulting the two of them, “Listen, I’m new around here alright? I don’t know names or shit like that, I just know that after your friend was kissing on one guy, she met up with some dude in a suit, you can do with that what you will but, that’s all I got for you.”

“Jin hyung said something about a suit too.” Jungkook mutters beside Hoseok prompting a nod from him.

“Thank you. We appreciate it and, uh listen if you hear or see anything else. I’m on the 8th floor. Room 26.”

The guard nods, tipping his hat toward the both of them, “Will do. Be safe out there, this city is uh, an interesting place.”

As the man moves back towards the motel Jungkook turns to Hoseok, bewildered by the information they’ve received.

“Hyung do you-” Jungkook hesitates, the words not wanting to leave his tongue, “-do you think she left on her own? She wouldn’t do that right?”

Hoseok keeps an eye on the guard as he disappears behind the stained glass, a sick feeling looming in his stomach.

“No Jungkook, she wouldn’t.”

Taehyung- La Petite Galerie, Saturday 12:46pm

Taehyung's been painting since he was a child. Adopted into a French family, he learned his two favorite crafts from an early age: painting and charisma. He was the star of his elementary school, wooing his classmates with the use of his second language and, wooing his teachers with his painting abilities. Consistently, he placed first in his school’s art fair. He was labeled as a prodigy and, selected for all of the finest performing arts schools in the city. However, prestigious art schools come at a price his family couldn’t afford. So, he had to stay behind with the rest of his classmates, whilst his parents begin saving money. He’s so thankful that he did though because, high school is where he met his second family. The family who he’s met on the rooftop since he was 15 years old, the family who’s helped him through his darkest days, the family who’s recently been torn apart...

He’s missing you as he walks into the gallery.

It’s one of his favorite parts about the rooftop along with the view of the city skyline.

You and Taehyung have sat together many times, admiring the well-dressed people walking into the gallery.

You would always say that they were simply apart of a different world and, that you never hated them for their riches.

Taehyung admired that about you because, he wishes he could say the same.

But, he knows he’d be lying.

One day, Taehyung had been brave enough to come into the gallery and, he actually made friends with the owner.

Taehyung makes friends with everyone.

But this woman, Clementine, had a particular soft spot for his French abilities and, gave Taehyung discounted admission for all of his friends.

Eventually, Taehyung brought the eight of you in with him and, much to his surprise, you all enjoyed yourselves.

He remembers that day as he steps under the warm glow of the gallery lights...

Jin made puns about the paintings

Namjoon endlessly dissected the potential meanings behind them

Yoongi had admired them quietly, murmuring observations that no one could hear

Hoseok laughed way too loud at the statue bestowing a marble penis

Jungkook kept to Taehyung’s side as he expertly explained the stories behind the artwork

But the image that hurts Taehyung the most is the way you looked at Jimin as he stared in awe up at the paintings.

Taehyung had never seen someone so enamored with another person before and, he realized why so many artists use love as their muse.

He felt happiness in his heart that you and Jimin were so happy, so much so, that he didn’t even bother thinking of his own romantic future.

He was content.

His family was here, admiring art in their own way, just as it was intended.

A bit of panic rushes through him at the thought of never having you all together again.

But determination comes along with it, reminding him why he’s visiting the gallery today.

“Excusez-moi, j'ai rendez-vous avec Clémentine aujourd'hui (Excuse me, I have an appointment with Clementine today).”

The woman behind the ivory desk smiles pleasantly at him, “Ah oui Monsieur Kim, asseyez-vous et je sais qu'elle est arrivée.” (Ah yes, Mr. Kim, have a seat and I’ll let her know you’ve arrived)

He bows his head slightly, sending a tight-lipped smile her way, “Merci.” (Thank you)

Taehyung takes a seat on the upholstered chairs near the entrance, thankful that the crowd level is mild today. It’s unexpected for a Saturday but, he doesn’t complain, he doesn’t think he can handle excessive human interaction.

He waits for roughly 10 minutes before a nimble woman with auburn hair comes bustling out of the back room, arms opening wide as soon as she sees him.

“Taehyung, ma ch��rie viens ici, viens à Clémentine...” (Taehyung, my darling come here, come to Clementine)

Her pink lipstick accentuates the pout in her lips as she ushers Taehyung into a tight hug, her fake breasts providing very little comfort but, he accepts her affection anyway.

He needs it.

“Bonjour Clementine, (Hello Clementine)” He pats her hips respectively, smiling warmly as he pulls away, “Merci de me rencontrer... (Thanks for meeting me).”

She scoffs, waving him off as she eagerly pulls him into her office, “Non-sens, je n'accepterai pas de gratitude de votre part pendant cette période.” (Nonsense, I will not except gratitude from you during this time)

Taehyung offers her a half smile, adjusting his coat and stepping through the archway.

Clementine’s office is tasteful, covered in various shades of pink and her most favorite pieces she’s hand-picked from the gallery.

It’s a little loud for Taehyung but, he agrees that it’s uniquely Clementine and, he feels content enough in her presence to deal with it.

She rushes around her desk, plopping down on her pearl encrusted office chair, “Asseyez-vous ici mon doux garçon...” (Sit here my sweet boy)

Her face stays firm with pity as she places her manicured fingers on the marble, “Dis-moi, ont-ils entendu quelque chose?” (Tell me, have they heard anything?)

Taehyung left posters at the gallery the day after you went missing and, Clementine was all too eager to post them all over the building’s exterior.

He shakes his head, settling into the crushed velvet beneath him, “Non. La police n'a rien. J'ai peur qu'ils ne la recherchent même pas.” (No. The police have nothing. I’m afraid they aren’t even looking for her.)

With a tsk of her lips, Clementine shakes her head, “Inutile.” (Useless) She spits the word, leaning back into her chair, “Avez-vous trouvé quelque chose? Je sais que tu as dit que tes amis regardaient.” (Have you found anything? I know you said your friends were looking)

“Nous avons entendu quelques choses, mais nous n'avons pas encore beaucoup de pistes. On se retrouve demain soir pour faire un plan.” (We’ve heard a few things but, we don’t have many leads. We meet tomorrow evening to make a plan.) He feels the disappointment in his heart, wishing he was giving her a different answer, his predicament leaving him helpless.

“Desole.” (Sorry) She replies, pouting her lips and tucking her auburn hair behind her ear, “C'est dégoûtant de voir comment cette ville est dirigée.” (It’s disgusting how this city is run.)

A humorless laugh leaves Taehyung’s lip as he nods, “Oui. Oui ça l’est. C'est pourquoi je suis venu vers toi clémentine.” (Yes. Yes it is. That’s why I came to you Clementine.)

She looks a little flustered by his comment, scooting closer to the edge of her seat, placing a hand to her chest, “Moi? Qu'est-ce que tu as besoin de moi?” (Me? What do you need from me?)

Taehyung feels a little dirty at his next move but, he does it without a second thought.

Smiling, he extends a hand towards Clementine, catching her gaze with his, “Nous venons de mondes différents oui?” (We come from different worlds, yes?)

Against her better judgement, Clementine places her hand timidly atop Taehyungs, nearly shuddering at his warmth, “Oui, mais ça n'a pas d'importance.” (Yes but, that doesn’t matter)

Taehyung pretends to be surprised by her answer, “Non? Pouvez-vous voir au-delà de cela?” (No? Can you see beyond that?)

She leans towards his voice, allured by the way it caramelizes in the air around her, “Je ne vois pas ces choses. L'argent, la couleur, l'âge, ce n'est pas important.” (I don’t see these things. Money, color, age, they aren’t important)

If he were in a different situation, he would notice the ignorance in her statement. But instead, he begins rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles, smiling prettily all the while.

Clementine is melting beneath his touch, her body subconsciously slouching in her chair.

“Vous vous souciez de moi malgré ces choses, n'est-ce pas?” (You care for me despite those things, don’t you?)

Eagerly, she nods, licking her lips before tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Oui mon amour.” (Yes my love.)

Taehyung leans closer to her, mustering up the best smolder he can manage, “J'ai besoin de savoir ce que vous entendez dans votre monde chéri.” (I need to know what you hear in that world of yours darling.)

Bless her, Clementine really is doomed.

“Mon monde? Que voulez-vous dire?” (My world? What do you mean?)

Taehyung delights in her confusion, taking a moment to seal the deal as he raises her knuckles to his lips, “Vous êtes au country club de Chamomile oui?” (You are in the Chamomile Country Club yes?)

As he asks his question, he presses a few kisses to her skin, keeping eye contact with her all the while.

Clementine lets out a shaky breath, placing her free hand to her chest, “Mon dieu...” (My god...) She mutters under her breath, fanning herself before responding to his original question, “Oui, Je suis.” (Yes, I am)

He grins, still kissing over the expanse of her knuckles, “Dites-moi, entendez-vous quelque chose d'étrange lorsque vous assistez?” (Tell me, do you hear anything strange when you attend?)

“Étrange?” (Strange?)

“Oui, etrange. Quelque chose que vous n'êtes pas censé entendre.” (Yes, strange. Something you are not supposed to hear.)

Clementine’s eyes shoot back and forth across the room, looking unsure of her response, “Mon amour, tu sais que je veux t'aider mais je déteste les potins. C'est désagréable.” (My love, I really want to help you but, I hate to gossip. It’s distasteful)

Taehyung pretends to smile fondly at her, stopping at her middle finger, dragging his lips up the length of it, “Il n'y a rien de désagréable chez toi bébé.” (There is nothing distasteful about baby) As he gets to the base of her hand, he parts both her middle and ring finger before licking right between the two digits suggestively, “En fait, je parie que vous avez un goût incroyable.” (In fact, I bet you taste incredible)

Clementine’s pink lipstick is smudging with the amount of times she’s licked her lips but, she does it again anyway for good measure.

“Vous avez une langue en argent Taehyung, prévoyez-vous de l'utiliser sur moi?” (You have a silver tongue Taehyung, do you plan to use it on me?)

The deep timbre of his chuckle sends goosebumps up Clementine’s spine and, her body is stretched across her marble desk in a rather uncomfortable way but, she doesn’t care.

All she wants is Taehyung.

“Voici ma proposition: vous utilisez votre langue pour parler et quand vous aurez terminé, j'utiliserai la mienne pour goûter. Comment cette sonne?” (Here is my proposal: you will use your tongue to speak and, when you are done. I will use mine to taste, how does that sound?)

Clementine’s legs part subconsciously beneath her desk, the pink satin of her underwear stained with her arousal.

With her hand still in Taehyung’s grip she clears her throat, tilting her head innocently, “Le Country Club, que tu dis?” (The country club, you say?)

Taehyung smirks, sending a nod her way, “Oui.” (Yes)

“Je me souviens avoir entendu quelque chose de mal le mois dernier.” (I do remember hearing something wrong last month)

He kisses the back of her hand sweetly before returning it to the desk and, allowing her the proper head space to recall information.

Because, who in their right mind would be able to tell a story whilst Taehyung was kissing on them like that?

Clementine seems to deflate a bit, attempting to compose herself as Taehyung gestures for her to continue.

“Quand j'étais dans le salon de thé, je pouvais entendre les costumes parler de quelque chose qui me faisait un peu peur.” (When I was in the tea room, I could hear the suits talking about something that scared me a little)

Taehyung’s brows furrow, “Les costumes?” (The suits?)

She nods, biting her lip in hesitation, “Oui, c'est ce que les membres appellent les propriétaires du country club.” (Yes, this is what the members call the owners of the country club)

He’s watching her intently, nodding as she explains, “Qu'est-ce que tu as entendu?” (What did you hear?)

She seems to crumble under his gaze like a paper swan; torn between her desire to please him and her desire to remain proper.

“Mon amour, c'est vraiment une chose terrible…” (My love, it’s really a terrible thing…)

Taehyung’s quick on his feet, taking her hand yet again, throwing a yearning look in her direction, “Clémentine, s'il vous plaît ... mon cher ami est absent. Vous pourriez être le seul espoir que mes frères et moi ayons pour la ramener à la maison en toute sécurité. Quand elle reviendra, je te couvrirai de mille baisers pour te remercier de ce que tu as fait.” (Clementine, please…my dear friend is absent. You could be the only hope that my brothers and I have for bringing her home safely. When she returns, I’ll cover you with a thousand kisses to thank you for what you have done)

Clementine sighs dreamily, her hand limp in his grip, her legs parting further at the baritone in his voice,

“Un millier?” (A thousand?)

Taehyung gives her a thin smile, “Un millier. Maintenant s'il te plait, ma rose, dis moi ce que tu as entendu.” (A thousand. Now please, my rose, tell me what you heard)

Clementine shrinks again, looking warily around the room before she finally answers, “Je les ai entendus parler de meurtre.” (I heard them talking about murder)

It’s then Taehyung feels the hot fiery sting of fear stabbing its way into his gut, “Meurtre?” (Murder?)

She senses his uneasiness so; she tightens her grip on his hand as she continues, “Ils ont dit qu'ils prenaient le travail d'un homme important qui allait au-delà de ce qu'ils avaient fait auparavant. Ils étaient inquiets de se faire prendre.” (They said they were taking a job from an important man that went above and beyond anything they’ve done before. They were worried about getting caught)

Taehyung shakes his head in disgust, hoping desperately that you aren’t connected to the conversation she heard.

“Quoi d'autre?” (What else?)

Clementine shakes her head, “C'est tout ce que j'ai pu entendre, mon thé est arrivé pendant leur conversation.” (That’s all I could hear, my tea arrived during their conversation)

Taehyung holds back his anger as he’s reminded of the kind of person Clementine really is.

She’s sweet sure but, she’s tragically selfish.

She’s well off and, only cares for matters that concern her; otherwise she is uninterested.

All he can muster is a tight lipped smile as he suddenly stands from the crushed velvet, “Je vois. Merci de votre temps, appelez-moi si vous vous souvenez d'autre chose.” (I see. Thank you for your time, please call me if you remember anything else)

Clementine rises with him, rushing around her desk, “Tu es en train de partir? Je pensais que tu resterais un moment, tu ne devrais pas être seule en ce moment chérie.” (You’re leaving? I thought you would stay a while, you shouldn’t be alone now honey)

Taehyung gives her the fakest smile he can muster, brushing his thumb across her rubbery cheek, “Je reviendrai te voir. Merci pour votre aide, vous êtes un saint.” (I’ll come back and see you. Thank you for your help, you’re a saint)

She rubs her face against his hand like a cat in heat and, whines for him in a similar fashion, “Mon dieu, nous sommes comme Romeo et Juliette…” (My god, we are like Romeo and Juliet…)

He’s disgusted by her lack of awareness but, he plays the part anyway, tucking a finger underneath her chin, “La séparation est une si douce douleur.” (Parting is such sweet sorrow)

With a brush of his lips against hers, he quickly departs, leaving Clementine alone with her desire.

Taehyung rushes through the afternoon crowd of the gallery, feeling grateful for the crisp air that greets him when he pushes the doors open.

His mind is racing; this is the third mention of the suits and, although it isn’t much, it’s the only solid lead the seven of them have.

They need to re-group as soon as possible because, the likelihood that they fill find you alive wanes with each hour that passes.

Taehyung feels horrified at the thought that passes through his brain:

What if they are already too late?

Act III- Tuer La Grande Maison

“Jungkook, pass me a cigarette…”

Jimin mumbles from across the fire, the light drained from his eyes.

Jungkook’s first instinct is to question him; Jimin quit smoking two years ago.

But, he stops himself just as the words crawl up his tongue and, instead he nods silently.

“Here you go.” He practically whispers, passing the cigarette to Hoseok who then moves it around the circle.

“Thanks.”

There is a stale bit of silence that rushes through the group and, everyone seems to look at Jimin to start things off.

But Jimin doesn’t look up, he just uses his shaky hands to light his cigarette. He takes the first inhale, his eyelids flutter as the nicotine infiltrates his senses.

Through the smoke, Jimin shoots a dead gaze across the circle, “I have nothing else to report. Lady says she has her best guys on it but, I don’t think it matters…”

Yoongi interjects, “Aren’t you wondering about the suits? I mean they have to have something to do with this. It’s not a coincidence that three of our sources mentioned them…”

Jimin lets a humorless laugh leave his lips, “The suits,” He shakes his head, “They sound like a bunch of fucking DC villains.”

Namjoon and Jin exchange something wordless between them before Jin decides to speak up,

“Jimin, I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for all of us but, we need to keep at it. We have good information; we just need to keep digging.”

Jimin feels his eyes burn with the promise of tears but, he just doesn’t have it in him to cry right now.

He’s too exhausted.

With another drag of his cigarette, he meets his hyung’s eyes with a hopelessness that shakes Jin to his core, “We don’t any money hyung, that’s all this town cares about. Maybe that’s all she cared about too…”

Yoongi is known for his tepid disposition.

He’s known for being the careful one, the collected one; so much so, that in high school Jin and Namjoon used to call him Mouse and, sometimes they still do.

But right now, Yoongi is angry and, he’s not angry for the same reasons he was yesterday…

“What are you insinuating?” Yoongi’s tone is clipped and, the intensity of his stare is enough to garner Jimin’s attention.

He flicks the ash onto the ground, “I’m just saying…maybe I should consider the possibility that she left town on purpose.”

“You should consider?” Yoongi bites back and, the tension between the two men immediately disperses throughout the group.

Jimin glances to the side before looking back at Yoongi, “Yes. It’s been almost a week. The police aren’t interested in finding her, no one seems to want to speak more than they have to and, the only lead we have is that she met up with some man in a suit. According to all of your reports, she looked comfortable with him. So, what if she was? What if she was tired of being in this filthy fucking town?” He scoffs, bitterness in his tone, “I wouldn’t blame her honestly, I just wish she would have disappeared before making me fall in love with her. That would have been nice…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Yoongi stands up, another rare occurrence, and glares at Jimin over the fire, “Do you realize how selfish you sound? You aren’t the only one who lost someone Jimin, she’s like a sister to us. She’s not the type of person to just run away from her problems and, you should be ashamed of yourself for suggesting that she’s that much of a coward.”

Jimin is a respectful man, he honors the age hierarchy amongst his friends but, he disregards formalities in this moment and fights back.

“She isn’t a coward. It’s a brave move to leave your family behind to pursue a better life, I just wish she would have left a note or something.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon interjects, trying to keep the peace as he places a hand on his thigh, “Y/N didn’t run away. She wouldn’t do something like that. C’mon you know her right? She loves you, she loves all of us.”

Jimin crosses his arms defensively, “Did she? I mean…from what I’ve gathered Namjoon, you don’t abandon the people you love. But she left me anyway…”

Yoongi moves closer to him, throwing is own cigarette into the fire, his brow furrowed with his growing frustration, “Why do you think your relationship with her is more important?”

Before Jimin has a chance to respond, Yoongi interrupts him.

“Because you two fuck? Is that why?” He glares at his best friend, with a level of fury that stifles Jimin’s martyrdom, “She taught Jungkook how to drive, she stayed up with Jin and Namjoon for six weeks straight when they were studying for their exit exams, she took Hoseok to work for months while he was saving up for his car. She gave up her studio for Taehyung’s family and, slept in her car while their house was recovering from last year’s flood. She- “ Yoongi starts out with a strong voice but, it slowly begins to falter as he gets to his addition to the list. His black hair moves fluidly with the breeze and, he looks away from Jimin. “She was there the night I- when I was…”

The sentence is loaded and, thankfully for Yoongi, he doesn’t need to complete it.

They all know what he’s talking about.

Jimin feels an enormous amount of guilt wash over him as he sees his calm and collected hyung, fight the tears in his eyes.

“Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean you get a bigger stake in grieving over her, she’s important to all of us, not just you.”

The heaviness is enough to crush the seven men sitting around the fire.

Yoongi is frozen in his spot, staring down at Jimin with the authority of the second eldest but also, with the desperation of a friend in need.

Jimin finally lets the sting win and, the tears fall unceremoniously down his cheeks as he tries to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry hyung.” He’s ashamed of his behavior and, he expects Yoongi to scold him further but, instead he kneels down beside him, placing a firm hand on his leg.

“We are going to find her.”

It’s all he says but, it prompts to Jimin to pull him into a hug and, the two of them share a moment before Jungkook says something that shifts the course of the evening.

“Hyung…” He begins, looking up from his phone, “How does your friend know what kind of car Y/N drives?”

“My friend?” Jimin sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, “What friend?”

Hoseok looks uneasy beside Jungkook as well, staring intently at Jimin as he awaits for an answer.

“Lady. The one you work for, how does she know what kind of car Y/N drives.”

Jimin just shrugs and, with a nod he requests another cigarette as Yoongi returns to his seat,

“She said it was in the news report the police published. I thought it was weird too especially since her car’s been in the shop but, the police have access to that kind of information so it makes sense.” He replies with a narrowed gaze, jerking his chin in his direction, “Why?”

“There’s nothing about her car in the papers.”

With Jungkook’s response, time almost freezes as a few members of the group seems to realize something dreadful.

“Wha- How do you know that?” Jimin hasn’t caught on yet but, he knows his friends well and, there is a change in their posture that he notices, “Why does that matter?”

Jungkook turns his phone in Jimin’s direction as a demonstration and, his voice begins to shake with his realization, “I searched everywhere hyung, it hasn’t appeared in a single article. How would she know something like that? Her car has been in the shop for two months…”

Jimin’s reaction is immediate denial but, something crawls up his throat; something he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

“Are you really thinking Lady had something to do with this?” He guffaws, taking another hit from his cigarette, “You know she’s like 70 right?”

“Have you ever mentioned that she drives a civic before?” Hoseok chimes in, a look of concern on his face.

Jimin shrugs, annoyed by their inflated reactions, “I don’t know? I wouldn’t remember telling her something like that but, I wouldn’t doubt if it came up especially when her cables were- “ His mouth parts then, cutting off his own sentence, “When her cables were cut…”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi pipes up and, everyone seems to lean towards the center of the circle subconsciously, growing closer without even realizing it.

“When I was…” Jimin’s eyes are lit up with a thousand emotions as he tries to gather his thoughts, “When I was talking to her about Y/N she asked me if I thought it was the same person who cut the cables on her car. But- I don’t remember telling her why Y/N’s car was in the shop.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Hoseok rushes out, nearly tripping over his words.

“I- I didn’t make the connection, I just thought she was trying to help… oh my god.” Jimin brings his watery gaze around the circle, “Oh fuck. Do you think she knows? Do you think she knows what happened to her?”

“Jimin…” Taehyung finally breaks his silence, “I think she is what happened to her.”

And he wants to protest, because Lady is like a mother to him. She’s always there, helping him through his difficulties; she even gave him advice on how to confess to Y/N properly…none of this makes sense.

“Think about it,” Taehyung continues, “She’s the wealthiest person in town, she knows everyone, she’s always checking up on you…don’t you think it’s a little odd that she’s so involved?”

“I don’t know, I just thought she had connections, that’s why I went to her in the first place.”

Jimin feels weak at this development and, Jungkook quickly takes his hand to soothe him.

“What are we waiting for then? Lets go.” Yoongi stands with a firm look of determination but, Namjoon stops him.

“Wait, we can’t just go busting into an old woman’s house and accuse her of kidnapping our friend. We have to have enough evidence…”

“We have enough evidence.” Hoseok inserts, wearing a similar expression to Yoongi, “And old woman or not, if that bitch has our friend-“

Jin comes through, intervening as things get intense, “Namjoon is right. We can’t do that. Look at us, she’d get one look and, call the police and, then we’d be the ones in handcuffs.”

“Hyung, we literally just established a solid reason to be suspicious of someone.” Jungkook asserts, confusion evident on his features.

Jin rolls his eyes, “All we’ve established is that Jimin may or may not have told her Y/N’s cables were cut. Lady owns half of the city, she’s more than capable of finding out what happened to Y/N’s car. This isn’t a lead, it’s odd yeah but, it’s not enough to accuse her with. She probably looked into Y/N’s vehicle information as soon as she went missing...”

With Jin’s reasoning in place, the group seems to deflate a bit and, Jimin feels slightly relieved that he doesn’t have to suspect yet another person he’s supposed to trust.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook’s small voice asserts, “I still think it’s weird.”

With pursed lips, Hoseok nods along with his statement, looking longingly at the now empty back of cigarettes, “I agree.”

“We don’t have to drop it completely, if anyone has any ideas on how to figure out more information, we should do that. Every lead is worth pursuing.” Namjoon murmurs

“What do you think we should do?” Jungkook’s Bambi disposition is privy to Namjoon’s opinion and, he often turns to him in times of stress.

“I have an idea.” Yoongi speaks instead, running his hand over the back of his neck, “I think I need to go back to the club. Jaebeom said the police might have found his sister if they had bothered to look for her, it kind of made me think that he had an idea of where she ended up...”

“I’ll go with you.” Jimin replies, throwing his cigarette into the fire

Yoongi shakes his head, “I should go alone. He was kind of an asshole when I went the first time, I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me again.”

Jimin chews on the inside of his cheek, wanting to protest but, he trusts Yoongi’s judgement.

Besides, he can’t handle anyone’s attitude right now.

“Anyone else think they need to revisit their leads?” Yoongi surveys the circle with cat-like precision, already crafting his future conversation with Jaebeom in his mind.

Namjoon has glanced towards the direction of the Marquee River several times now and Jin, who is so tuned in to his mannerisms, notices.

“What is it?”

Namjoon purses his lips, “I think I need to speak with the groundskeeper again…”

Hoseok wrinkles his nose in disgust, “The crazy guy with the bad breath?”

He sighs, finally pulling his attention from the direction of the river, “What if his rambling actually meant something? He kept calling me madam…”

“Namjoon,” Jin begins, placing a hand on his thigh, “he’s obviously sick, he didn’t even know who you were. How are you supposed to get anything meaningful from this guy?”

“I don’t know. But, I think I should try…”

“I’ll go with you hyung.” Jungkook vows, his eyes wide with his faith, “If that guys tries anything on you, I’ll kick his ass.”

Jungkook’s very serious statement elicits something that the rooftop hasn’t heard in a while: laughter.

They all laugh for a moment, basking in the tiny bit of innocence still left in their complicated world.

And as the laughter dies down, Taehyung offers a sentiment that they can all agree on,

“Let’s go find our friend.”

After a few more cigarettes and a swig from Hoseok’s bottle of vodka, they all part ways.

Namjoon and Jungkook head to the Marquee River whilst Yoongi prepares himself for a second visit to Ginseng. Jin and Taehyung head back to the night market to see if any of them have more information and, Hoseok finally convinces Jimin to get some rest.

He’s been up for three days straight but, he hasn’t slept a full night since Tuesday.

It’s hard but, after a bit more vodka, he finally passes out on Hoseok’s sofa.

His torn between wanting to dream of you and, praying that he won’t.

He wants to see your face but, fuck, it hurts so bad to do so.

Namjoon and Jungkook- The Marquee River, Sunday 5:49pm

Thankfully, the sun is just on the brink of setting when Namjoon and Jungkook arrive at the river. On Namjoon’s last visit, the moon was out and, very little people were left which left him more vulnerable. Now, not only does he have daylight on his side but, he also has a very vigilant and very protective dongsaeng to keep him company.

“I’m just gonna stand back and, let you do your thing hyung but, if things get a little heated…I got your back ok? You just say the word and I’ll lay him out.” Jungkook vows, puffing his chest out as they approach the area Namjoon last saw the groundskeeper.

He chuckles, patting Jungkook on the shoulder, “Thank you. I appreciate you coming with me. We shouldn’t be too long, especially if he starts rambling again.”

Jungkook just nods, keeping close to his hyung, resisting the urge to hold his hand.

He really wishes platonic hand-holding was more acceptable.

Namjoon tenses up as he spots the groundskeeper near one of the trash cans but, he takes a deep breath and jerks his head in his direction, “There he is…”

Jungkook nods, his expression tightening a bit as he prepares for the worst.

“Hello?” Namjoon calls out tentatively

The groundskeeper is dressed in slightly cleaner coat but, Namjoon still tenses up regardless.

“Good evening gentleman.” The man turns around, smiling brightly, a rake grasped firmly in his hand, “What can I do for you?”

Namjoon is confused.

Is this the same man?

He looks the same but, cleaner?

And he isn’t laughing...

What the hell is going on?

“Uh good evening um...” Namjoon’s eyes flit to Jungkook, “Do you uh- do you remember me?”

The man cocks his head, narrowing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head,

“No, I’m so sorry I don’t. Have we met before?”

Namjoon nods immediately but, for a moment he wonders if the experience he had the other night was some sort of stress induced hallucination.

“Yeah, I came here the other night. I asked you if you had seen my friend?”

For good measure, Namjoon holds up his phone, showing your photo and, the man pushes his glasses up his nose and leans in.

He still has the scar but, his face isn’t greasy.

His hair is combed to the side and, he doesn’t smell like slow death.

Namjoon’s heart picks up at the thought of his own sanity slipping from him until the man finally seems to remember something.

“Oh my-” He pulls back and shoots a wary look Namjoon’s way, “I do remember you. My goodness, I am so incredibly sorry, I probably scared the daylights out of you.”

Namjoon’s polite nature causes him to chuckle uneasily but, he keeps his distance, not fully trusting this guy’s demeanor.

“Yeah you uh, you definitely did. So uh...”

The man cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I suffered a head injury two years ago. The damage to my brain causes brief bouts of psychosis and, unfortunately I didn’t have enough money to refill my prescription.” The man extends his hand towards Namjoon and Jungkook, “My name is Nestor, please forgive my behavior. I can imagine it was quite shocking...”

Namjoon and Jungkook were raised to be polite men so, despite their hesitation; they shake his hand, bowing their heads as they do.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear about your accident.”

Nestor chuckles and, something flashes in his eyes that Namjoon can’t quite decipher, “Oh it was no accident son, I was attacked.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and, although he claimed he wouldn’t speak, his curiosity gets the best of him, “By who?”

Nestor looks to the side for a moment before glancing back at them,

“I can’t remember.”

“That’s awfully convenient.” Jungkook can’t help but observe with a pouted mouth and, Namjoon lightly smacks his chest.

“Sorry but, you don’t remember?”

Namjoon’s intricate brain is searching for ways to connect the dots but, the man is offering him very little information.

“No, the doctors said I was attacked and, left for dead. I suffered damage to my hippocampus and, this caused a pretty bad episode of amnesia. I couldn’t remember who I was or how old I was, the only thing I could remember is my cat’s name...” He chuckles and, the clouded film over his eyes adds to the pain that flashes through them, “Which is quite funny you see because, my cat’s name is Cognac so, when I kept asking for Cognac, the nurses would try and explain to me over and over that I couldn’t have alcohol in my state.”

Jungkook and Namjoon offer their condolences in the form of breathless laughter but, their level of empathy quickly absorb Nestor’s sadness.

“Anyway...” Nestor gestures to Namjoon’s cellphone as a means to change the subject, “I have seen your friend before but, I don’t remember the last time I saw her. I’m terribly sorry...”

Jungkook pipes up, “It’s ok sir, we understand, your hippo is damaged, that’s not your fault.”

Namjoon’s mouth opens in disbelief and, he wants to correct Jungkook’s mistake but, he has more important matters to attend to.

“I hope this isn’t too much for you but, the last time I was here- “ He hesitates, glancing over at Nestor, “-last time I was here, you kept calling me madam. Is there any significance to that?”

“Oh...” Nestor chuckles, tucking a bit of his gray hair behind his ear, “I’m sure I was talking about my wife. It’s common for me in those episodes to ask for her. She passed away two years ago.”

This is something Namjoon has been waiting for.

Two years ago, this man was attacked.

Two years ago, his wife passed away.

Two years ago, Jaebeom’s sister went missing.

There must be some correlation.

“It was lovely meeting you gentleman. Unfortunately, I have to get back to my duties,” He gestures to the multi-colored leaves littered on the ground, “, these leaves aren’t going to rake themselves.”

Namjoon understands of course and, they quickly shake hands again but, just before the two men turn to leave, Jungkook’s randomized curiosity strikes again.

“What happened to your cat?”

Nestor seems to search his brain and, his features almost crumple with a bit of desperation,

“I don’t- I don’t remember.”

Jungkook just nods, offering him a small smile before him and Namjoon move through the trees towards the street.

Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Sunday 8:37pm

As Yoongi enters the club for the second time, he carries himself much differently. He ignores the looks from the patrons littered on the couches, he ignores the bass vibrating in his bones, he ignores the jabs from the bartender as he asks to speak with Jaebeom.

His anxiety is replaced with determination.

When Jaebeom swings open the door a second time, he’s toned body is only covered by a pair of jeans.

With another joint between his fingers, Jaebeom smirks down at Yoongi, “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

Yoongi shamelessly allows his eyes to move over Jaebeom’s figure, admiring it but, also noting that his skin is littered with more than just tattoos.

Nail marks run down the length of his abdomen, purple bruises congregate on the left side of his neck and, his lips are swollen with evidence of kissing.

“Looks like you’ve had enough pleasure for the evening.” Yoongi notes in Korean, forcing his gaze away from Jaebeom’s body, “I need to ask you a few more questions.”

Jaebeom’s smirk never falters as he pulls the joint to his lips. With a jerk of his head, he ushers Yoongi inside, shutting the door behind him, “Make it quick, I have company coming…”

Yoongi wants to make a comment but, he knows it’s not important enough so, he starts with his first question, “I know this might be hard to talk about but when I was here last night, you said something about your sister going missing.”

A noticeable change runs through Jaebeom’s body as he takes his seat, “Yeah, what about it?”

“I thought it was odd that they- my friend and your sister,” He elaborates, “went missing on the same street and the way you spoke about it, it was like you knew something about where she went…”

Jaebeom tenses up with the subject change but, he sees something in Yoongi that he likes, there is an honesty to him that Jaebeom fucks with, “I have a feeling, yes, but I could never prove it.”

Yoongi offers silence as a way to encourage him to continue and, Jaebeom obliges despite his hesitation.

“Her and her boyfriend used to come in to the club every Thursday night for Happy Hour. They had been dating for a while and, things seemed to be going all right. But one night, she came in alone and I asked her where he was and, she told me they were taking a break.” Jaebeom’s expression shifts again and Yoongi, being the empath that he is, senses the onslaught of negative emotion. “She wouldn’t tell me what happened. She just kept begging me to stay out of it and, she made me promise her I wouldn’t confront him. He came in to the club later that night and, some of my guys told me they got into a huge fight-“

Yoongi interjects, “Did you see anything?”

He shakes his head and, before he elaborates, he takes another hit of his blunt, “No, I was up here doing a deal but, the next thing I know, my friends are coming up here and, telling me that my sister ran out of the club, crying and shit. I tried to call her, I even went out on the street and, asked everyone if they saw her but…” His voice tightens before he blows smoke from his lips, “…nothing. I blew up her phone for the rest of the night but, she never responded. I went to the police the next day and, surprise surprise, they were fucking useless. They kept saying that ‘girls like her runaway all the time’ and ‘she’ll be back before you know it.’ I was so angry. I couldn’t believe they didn’t care. I did the same thing you and your boys are doing, I started my own investigation and, I didn’t get very far until, I found her cell phone in the club’s dumpster.”

Yoongi surprise is evident on his face and, it prompts Jaebeom to comment on it,

“Yeah I know right? You’d think that would have helped but, it only made everything more complicated. I looked through her messages to try to figure out what happened and-“ He blows a heavy breath between is lips, shaking his head, “Her boyfriend was cheating on her but, it was with some old chick, like his boss or some shit…I don’t know.”

“His boss?”

He nods, “Yeah, he worked the Upside as a pool boy.”

Yoongi’s heart drops then, down to the pit of his stomach and, he literally feels the sweat collecting in the wells of his palms.

“A pool boy?” He has to clarify, just so he’s sure he heard him right

Jaebeom nods and licks his lips, “Yeah, my sister found out he was fucking her; at least that’s what I got from her texts.”

“My friend works as a pool boy too. It’s his girlfriend that missing.”

Jaebeom’s brows rise before shaking his head, “Shit…” He takes another hit, “That’s a hell of a coincidence.”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Yoongi and Jaebeom regard each other for a moment before Jaebeom’s mouth turns up in a smirk, “I guess you have an old lady to visit then. If you see my sister’s boyfriend, slap him around a little bit for me heh…”

Jaebeom seems to gulp the pain he feels down his throat before finishing off the blunt and throwing it in the ashtray.

“Wait, did he disappear too?”

He nods, “Haven’t seen him since that night. I just assumed he was living the high life, I mean, I don’t blame him…I’d suck on some old lady titties too for that kind of money…” Jaebeom quickly replaces the blunt in his hand with a the bottle of beer he had sitting on his side table. He takes a swig before holding out to Yoongi, “You want some?”

Yoongi doesn’t understand his attitude towards his sister’s disappearance. If he knew where her boyfriend was, why wouldn’t he go talk to him?

But he takes the offer, throwing back a bit of stale beer, letting the slight warmth from the alcohol soothe the rawness in his chest.

“Why didn’t you go up there? If that’s where he is?”

“I don’t have contacts up there. There was no way they’d let me in, look at me…” He chuckles, gesturing to his rough appearance, “Besides, I don’t know where that bitch lives and, honestly, it’s probably for the best. I don’t know what I’d do to that guy if I found him…”

A few more words are exchanged before Yoongi decides he needs to leave; he has a lot to report and, he feels as though time is running out.

As he’s moving to the threshold of the door, Jaebeom get his attention.

“Hey-“

As Yoongi turns around, Jaebeom leans forward in his seated position, placing his elbows on his knees, “What’s your name?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch, “Yoongi.”

Jaebeom grins, nodding his head in consideration, “Yoongi. Alright then, well if you ever want to take a night off from your detective work and, uh you know,” He nods to the bed, “have some fun, you know where to find me.”

Desire stirs in Yoongi’s stomach and, he’s flattered honestly, that such a handsome man could take interest in him but, he knows he couldn’t take a night off if he tried.

He’s got a friend to find.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He sends a smile towards Jaebeom, bowing his head slightly, “See you around.”

“I hope so.”

The information they have accrued is once again exchanged amongst the group and, there is only one conclusion that everyone continues to arrive at:

They have to get inside Lady’s house.

So, putting their heads together they concoct a plan that just might work.

The plan is simple.

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung will take Lady up on her offer of a home cooked meal.

Thankfully, Taehyung’s closet is full of clothes that look far more expensive than they actually are; working at a thrift store has its perks.

Jimin is dressed in a gray and black suit, covered in a gaudy brocade pattern.

Jungkook choses a floral blazer and black slacks, complete with a simple white button up he borrows from Taehyung’s father.

Taehyung donns something slightly less subtle; a black and silver blazer with a similar brocade pattern to Jimin’s suit jacket.

They take time on their hair, doing it up as if it were each of their wedding days.

When it’s all said and done, the three men walk out of Taehyung’s room looking like they came straight out of Interview with Vampire.

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin are dressed in all black.

They will serve as a distraction during dinner to enable the younger men to explore the property undisturbed by Lady’s security guards.

It’s not an easy task but, they are more than ready to attempt it.

An invitation to dinner is of course incomplete without a gift for it’s lovely host.

Tonight, a bottle of champagne is clutched in Taehyung’s grasp as he strolls up the cobblestone walkway.

However, this champagne is slightly modified to fit this evening’s itinerary.

“Doxepin, it's what I take for insomnia. This shit is strong, I only have to take one and, I’m out like a light in 30 minutes...” Yoongi had explained, pushing his prescription bottle towards Taehyung, “Slip that bitch 3 or 4 and, she’ll hit the floor. When she wakes up, just tell her she passed out for a few minutes…”

And so it was.

Lady's home is massive.

It’s the biggest house the men have ever seen.

Jimin has stood in its immensity before but, Jungkook and Taehyung are almost disgusted by its grandeur.

The white paint seems to stretch upwards for miles, the greenery of the vines decorating it in such a way that it almost looks serene.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The lawn is immaculate.

Carefully trimmed hedges sculpted to perfection line the walkway that leads to the dark oak that encompasses the front door.

They aren’t here for a lovely dinner inside this massive house.

The true nature of their visit is simply to gather more information.

They aren’t sure how but, Lady is connected to your disappearance.

Tonight, they will gather enough evidence to warrant an investigation.

Maybe then, the city below them will finally pay attention to their cries for help.

Lady doesn’t greet them at the door but, another intriguing person does.

“Noah...” Jimin greets the suited man with a smile that is far too sweet.

But he delights in the man’s surprise and, Jimin connects another piece of the puzzle.

Noah is a classmate of theirs.

He was fortunate enough to land a job in the Upside after graduation.

He was fortunate in that his family had money and connections that pushed Noah ahead of his fellow alumni.

Noah knew you well.

Noah is dressed in a suit.

Noah works for Lady.

It seems there is a connection but, instead of pummeling Noah like he wants to, Jimin simply bows his head as he steps through the threshold of Lady’s home.

“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” Noah stutters, trying desperately to compose himself.

Taehyung offers the same smile adorning Jimin’s mouth, “We’re here for dinner. What are you doing here?”

It’s a loaded question and Noah knows it but, he’s helpless to act on this knowledge because, he is required to treat Lady’s guests with respect.

“I work here.” He mutters, gesturing towards the dining room, “She’s uh...she’s right in there.”

“Aren’t you going to offer to take our coats?” Jimin feigns innocence, nodding to the coat rack beside the door.

Noah nods and with shaky hands and, he accepts each of the coats before hanging them up.

“Enjoy your evening gentleman.”

The three of them walk away with a sense of satisfaction but, they are also sick with the knowledge of where one of their former friends ended up.

Money can create the most dastardly of monsters.

“Oh my goodness you’re here! Come in, come in.”

Lady appears at the archway, dressed in a red satin gown, her grey hair piled elegantly atop her head.

Time has been kind to her, Jungkook thinks, she doesn’t look 70.

But then again, age seems to be less of an issue when you have millions of dollars at your disposal.

“Lady these are my friends, Jungkook...” He gestures to the man on his right, who bows respectfully offering a boyish smile.

“Thank you so much for having me Lady Noona, you have an incredible home.”

Lady is already flustered; she can’t believe Jimin has friends as handsome as he is.

“And Taehyung...” Jimin continues, smirking at Jungkook’s acting skills.

Taehyung, takes her hand, keeping eye contact with her and lowering his lips to her knuckles, “Enchanté, votre maison est belle oui mais pas aussi belle que vous.” (Enchanted. Your house is beautiful yes but, not nearly as beautiful as you.)

Lady’s face rushes red and, she giggles like a demented schoolgirl, fanning herself as Taehyung releases her hand.

“Oh mon dieu tu l'es aussi. N'hésitez pas à continuer...” (Oh my goodness, you are too much. Please don’t hesitate to continue.)

“My lord Jimin, you didn’t tell me your friends were so handsome and, that one of them speaks French- “ She eyes Taehyung teasingly and he responds by winking.

“He was adopted when he was younger by a French family, he actually doesn’t speak English very well.” Jimin lies, strolling into the dining room and, beginning his search for something incriminating.

She nods, her eyes alight with intrigue, “I see well,” She leans into Taehyung’s frame, lowering her voice slightly, “Ne t'inquiète pas je n'aurai aucun mal à communiquer avec toi.” (Not to worry, I’ll have no trouble communicating with you)

Taehyung chuckles at that, bringing his lips to her ear, “Bien sûr, vous en avez déjà dit beaucoup.” (Of course, you have already said so much)

Lady is floored and, enlightened with desire.

So much so, that she arranges for Taehyung to sit right beside her.

The dining table, Jimin remembers, is smaller to create a more intimate setting.

Jimin takes a seat across from Lady who sits at the head of the table whilst Jungkook and Taehyung settle into the two middle chairs between them.

The first course is a salad topped with fancy ingredients the men barely recognize but, they dive into it anyway as Lady begins the conversation.

“Any word about Y/N?” She ventures solemnly, giving her best look of concern.

Jimin smiles, saccharine as ever, “Nothing so far but, I’m sure your men will give me an update soon.”

Lady nods mid-chew, pouting her lips slightly, “Of course sweetheart, they send me updates whenever they have something.”

Taehyung interjects, “Ne parlez pas encore d'elle, ça ruine mon humeur. Je t'ai apporté quelque chose. L'homme du magasin a dit que c'était sucré, peut-être que nous pourrions l'avoir avec un dessert?” (Don’t talk about her yet, it ruins my mood. I brought you something. The man at the store said it was sweet, maybe we can have it with dessert?)

This surprises Lady of course but, as Taehyung hands her the bottle of champagne adorned appropriately with a twist off cap; She smirks salaciously and nods.

“Tout ce que vous voulez...” (Whatever you want...)

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards her once more, “Tout ce que je veux?” (Whatever I want?)

This is part of the plan of course, to disarm her and, Taehyung is doing an incredible job.

“Oui.” (Yes.) She practically coos in response, shameless to the presence of the other men.

He chuckles darkly and, beneath the table he places a hand on her thigh, “Et si je te veux pour le dessert?” (What if I want you for dessert?)

Jimin wants to hurl a little bit because, although he can’t understand what they are saying, he knows something inappropriate is going down.

“Jimin, your friend is going to make me misbehave.” Lady giggles, licking her lips as she eyes Taehyung hungrily.

He plays it off though, this is part of the plan.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s a shameless flirt.” Jimin chuckles lazily, eyeing Jungkook from over his water glass.

“No apology needed.” She smirks, flushing a further shade of red as Taehyung sends a wink in her direction, “Now, tell me Jungkook, what is that you do?”

Jungkook smiles brilliantly, looking eagerly at her, “I work as a paralegal for a law firm a few cities over but, on the weekends I work as a personal trainer.”

The lie is so well executed, Jimin and Taehyung want to cackle but, they hold it together, sticking to their script.

“Oh that is so impressive. I hear Law careers are increasing by 18% over the next 5 years, it’s an incredible industry to get into.” She compliments, stabbing more of the lettuce onto her fork.

“I’m glad you think so Noona, I can imagine someone as successful as you has a lot of wisdom for someone like me.” Jungkook’s Bambi eyes are on full display as he stares longingly in Lady’s direction, licking his lips.

His words have a double meaning and, Lady knows it, she wonders how she got so lucky to have two handsome men flirting with her.

“I know my way around sure,” She remarks with a smile, “I can introduce you to some of my colleagues, many of them work in your prospective field.”

“Really?” Jungkook beams, “That would be an honor Noona, thank you so much.”

Lady nods and places a well-manicured hand over his, “Of course, any friend of Jimin’s is a friend of mine.”

She turns to Taehyung, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, “Et vous, quel est votre métier?” (And you? What is your job?)

Taehyung pouts slightly, eyeing her in a way that suggests embarrassment, “Je suis un artiste. Je vends mes tableaux. C'est un travail très difficile mais, je l'aime tellement, je ne peux pas imaginer faire autre chose.” (I am an artist. I sell my paintings. It’s a very difficult job but, I love it so much, I can’t imagine doing anything else.)

Lady melts at his words, a longing sigh leaving her lips, “Bien sûr. C'est tellement admirable que vous poursuivez ce qui vous passionne.” (Of course. That is so admirable that you pursue what you’re passionate in.)

Taehyung smirks, eyeing her as he takes a sip of his water, “Merci. Je suis curieux maintenant, de quoi êtes-vous passionné?” (Thank you. I’m curious now, what are you passionate about?)

Before she can answer, the second course is served: roasted beef with a béarnaise sauce on a bed of microgreens.

Rich people shit, Jimin thinks but, he smiles graciously none the less.

He isn’t hungry, he hasn’t been hungry for the past week so, he pushes the meat around the plate as he continues to survey her dining area.

There is nothing out of place but, then again, he isn’t sure what he’s looking for.

The only thing he can do is wait for dessert…

Once Lady is out, they will be able to search for what they need.

“Lady, do you live here all alone?” Jungkook feigns concern, tilting his head.

She smiles sadly and nods, dabbing her lips with a silk napkin, “Yes I do. My husband, Nestor, died two years ago of an aneurysm. I’ve been alone here ever since, well minus my guards of course. I’m sure you saw them outside but, they don’t live here full time.”

Jungkook has to stifle his shock.

The name Nestor, isn’t a common one.

In fact, he’s only ever heard it once before...

Jungkook kisses his teeth, pouting his lips slightly, “Oh noona, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

She pouts too, mirroring his expression, soaking up all of his sympathy, “That’s alright dear. I manage just fine, I have to admit though, it’s so wonderful having company. It gets lonely up here.”

The youngest smirks, “Oh of course Noona, I can only imagine…” He places a hand on her thigh beneath the table, rubbing gently over her dress, “A woman like you should never be lonely.”

Jimin and Taehyung have to physically repress their reactions to Jungkook’s acting abilities; it’s a side of him they have never seen.

Anger is something Jungkook doesn’t encounter very often.

But as he looks into Lady’s face, he feels rage coursing through him.

Because, he knows she isn’t genuine.

He knows there is something off about her.

Jungkook would normally never dream of harming another person but, when his friends are getting hurt, his morals begin to loosen.

“Oh my, you boys make me feel young again.” Lady chuckles before taking a bit of her beef, “You know…I have the resources to assist you, I tell Jimin this all the time but, he’s just so modest.” She winks at him and, Jimin pretends to shy away from her compliment, “I could really help you with your chosen career paths. Taehyungie,” She turns to him, flashing the pearl white of her dentures, “Ma sœur Clemtenine possède une galerie au centre-ville, je suis sûr que je peux lui faire acheter une partie de votre art. Je sais que j'aurais certainement adoré en acheter ...” (My sister Clementine owns a gallery downtown, I’m sure I can get her to purchase some of your art. I know I’d certainly loved to buy some)

Taehyung’s stomach drops at her statement but, he remains composed and arches his brow, “Clementine? C'est un nom tellement intéressant…” (Clementine? That is such an interesting name…)

Lady giggles once again, “Oui, nos parents étaient des gens excentriques.” (Yes, our parents were eccentric people.)

“Ils étaient probablement beaux aussi…” (They were probably beautiful too…)

Taehyung winks again and, he must admit, he’s getting off on how easy she is to trick.

She fans herself through her uneasy giggle, nudging his knee with her own, “Oh arrête de me flatter, je suis sérieux, je pourrais vraiment t'aider” (Oh stop flattering me, I’m serious, I could really help you.)

Taehyung pretends to be touched as he places a hand to his chest but before he can reply, a loud voice rings in through the intercom above the dining table.

“Mam this is Noah. There is a disturbance down at the main gate, we have to leave to go check it out, are you alright in there?”

Lady rolls her eyes, unbothered, “Of course Noah, I’m with my friends. Go take care of it, update me when you’re done.”

Anxiety swims into the stomachs of the three men; phase one is complete.

The guards are due to be distracted and, all they can hope is that Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin stay safe in the process.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin tilts his head, glancing towards the speaker.

She smile reassuringly, waving him off, “Of course, this happens all the time. It’s probably just the homeless, poor things, they beg at my gate sometimes. I don’t engage with them though, as much as I want to help, I don’t believe in handouts you know? It teaches them nothing.”

This both confuses and enrages Jimin all at once.

She has no problem offering her resources to the three of them because, lets face it, it’s obvious she is partial to their good looks.

But he’s disgusted with her way of thinking.

Everyone deserves a fair shot.

He can’t understand how people, especially fortunate people like Lady, could have this outlook.

But then again, without the abuse of the working class, how would people like her make all of their money?

“I’ll drink to that.” Jimin smiles, raising his glass and, the rest of the table follows suit, sipping from their crystal goblets.

Then, something peculiar happens…

Beneath their feet, against the expensive lacquer on the wood varnish, there is a banging sound.

Lady tenses up but, deflects immediately, her surprise quickly smoothing out of her features, “Forgive me, I’m having a wine cellar built beneath the dining room, they’ve been measuring all morning so, it looks like they are getting started on the construction.”

Jimin’s expression shifts and, he stares across the table like a snake honing in on his pray, “Oh? That’s so weird, I didn’t notice any construction trucks outside.”

Lady smiles gracefully, “They have been working for quite awhile, part of their team left to gather more supplies. I’m so indecisive, I changed my mind about the interior several times…” She turns to Taehyung, feeling uneasy under Jimin’s gaze, “Que pensez-vous du marbre noir?” (What do you think of black marble?)

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “Ah, marbre noir? Excellent choix, si séduisant.” (Ah, black marble? Excellent choice, so seductive.)

She entangles her fingers with his beneath the table cloth, shooting him a suggestive look that makes Taehyung sick to his stomach, “Oui, vous l'êtes…” (Yes, you are.)

All Taehyung can manage is a smirk and, a thumb over the back of her knuckles.

His patience is running out.

“L'heure du dessert?” (Dessert time?)

He nods to the kitchen and, Lady immediately blooms with excitement.

“Oui, oui…” She smiles, craning her neck towards the kitchen, “We’re ready for dessert now, what’s taking so long?”

Crème Brule is served alongside a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream and, Taehyung whispers something in her ear about her being similar to the French dessert.

With flushed cheeks, Lady giggles (for the millionth time) and, begins eating.

“Chérie, es-tu prêt pour le champagne que j'ai apporté? Il ira bien avec ce dessert…” (Darling, are ready for the champagne I brought? It will go well with this dessert…)

With her approval, Taehyung pours the bubbly liquid into each of the flutes, smirking devilishly at his friends as he does.

Taehyung watches her like a hawk and, picks up her glass, getting dangerously close to her as he lifts it to her lips, “Boisson. Dis-moi ce que tu penses.” (Drink. Tell me what you think.)

Like saucers her eyes widen and, she’s so enthralled with Taehyung, she doesn’t notice another round of banging beneath the floorboards.

But the rest of them do.

Her eyes flutter as she sips some of the bubbly liquid but, Taehyung isn’t satisfied.

“Ah ah…Avale tout pour moi.” ( Ah ah…Swallow it all for me)

She obliges, practically spluttering at his double entendre.

“Bonne fille.” (Good Girl) He chuckles darkly, his heart thumping in his chest, he likes this.

He has to admit.

There is something so satisfying about fooling an opponent.

He’s turned on by it.

She gulps as she continues to stare at him, completely captivated.

“C’est delicieux.” (It’s delicious) She finally manages, dabbing her lips with the silk once again.

“Tu fais un bon show…” (You put on a good show) He remarks, smirking before pretending to sip some of his own champagne.

There is a bit of silence that moves throughout the table before Jimin takes the reigns once again,

“Lady, I really appreciate you having us tonight. We needed a night off; things have been so difficult lately.”

Lady immediately smiles, forcing her eyes away from Taehyung, “Of course sweetheart. You know I’m always here for you.”

Another sound is forced against the wood below and, for whatever reason, this startles Lady.

“Goodness, they are loud…” A nervous laugh leaves her lips and she attempts to stand up before faltering a bit, eyeing Taehyung immediately as she seems to stumble.

Taehyung reacts, standing with her and, holding onto her waist, “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas chérie?” (What’s wrong darling?)

She mumbles something incoherent which prompts a sadistic grin to appear on Taehyung’s mouth, “Vous sentez-vous un peu endormi?” (Do you feel a little sleepy?)

She nods, clinging to him helplessly as he guides her to the settee beneath the window,

“C'est bon chéri, dors pour moi. Je promets que je serai là quand tu te réveilleras.” (It’s ok darling, sleep for me. I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.)

Lady’s eyes are growing heavier when Taehyung lays her down and, as he does, he places a kiss atop her forehead, “Si jamais tu le fais…” (If you ever do…)

Her eyes widen at his threatening tone but, before she can process it fully, she passes out in his arms.

Taehyung, Jungkook and, Jimin all look at each other for a moment before, they spring into action.

They shove the dining table aside, disregarding the sound of the expensive china as it crashes to the floor.

There is a Persian rug that covers the sound and, that is quickly shoved aside to reveal something that makes their stomach turn.

Because, beneath the dining table, there is a cellar door.

Jimin swallows his fear and with shaky hands, he leans down, “Hello?”

Silence.

He tries again, his chest numb from the force of his beating heart, “Is there- is anyone down there?”

Nothing.

Jimin frantically looks for a way in but, the hatch is sealed with a padlock.

“It’s locked, we need a way to-“ He begins but, a voice interrupts him.

A voice he is longed to hear for what seems like eternity.

“Jimin?”

The men look at each other with such heightened emotion that it could power the entire city.

Because, that voice belongs to you.

“Y/N? Baby? Oh my god…” He clutches the wood, banging on it without a reason why, “Baby? Is that you?”

Down in the cellar, beneath the big house you were taken to, you begin to cry at the sound of your boyfriends voice.

You must be dreaming you think.

He can’t be real.

Is it possible?

Is the nightmare finally over?

“Jimin!” You cry weakly, using all the strength you have.

The woman who forced you down here hasn’t fed you since your arrival.

She’s just left you down there, along with the rest of her secrets.

The room you’re in isn’t very big.

It’s constructed crudely and made of stone.

There are only two things to keep you company:

A pile of bones and, a pile of money.

When the woman laid you beneath her home, she said only one thing to you,

“You will die down here. You will die beside the life you will never have and, while you do, I’ll make sure he gets everything he could ever want.”

Jimin chokes back a sob as he pounds against door yet again and, he doesn’t notice that Jungkook is already scanning the room for solution.

“I’m right here baby, I’m right here, I’m going to get you out ok? Just hang on…”

You cover your chapped lips with the palm of your hand, sobbing into it.

You couldn’t believe it.

He found you.

He actually found you.

You didn’t know how and, it didn’t matter.

You just want to go home.

“Jungkook and Taehyung are here with me, we’re going to get you out!” He calls and, as if on cue, Jungkook appears beside him with hammer, “Watch out.” He grunts, determination in his eyes, “Y/N! I’m gonna break the door in ok? I need you to move aside so you don’t get hurt!”

You laugh in disbelief at the sound of your friend’s voice, “Use that brute strength of yours Kookie! Show that door who’s boss!”

He chuckles at that, tears collecting in his eyes, “I got you Noona, just make sure you’re not in the way!”

Taehyung is smiling too, trying not to lose it at the sound of your voice.

He keeps a careful eye on Lady, who is still passed out on the settee.

If he hated her before, he wants to kill her now.

Taehyung knew she was involved yes but, he never suspected she had you locked in her fucking cellar.

Jimin is itching to get you in his arms, he wants to claw through the wood himself but, instead he stands back and, lets Jungkook hack away at the cellar door.

You can see it.

The expensive wood slowly splintering above, light pouring in through the jagged cracks.

The only light you’ve had down here is a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

It’s been torture.

But, none of that matters to you right now.

The only thing you can focus on is the sight of your boyfriend’s face as he tears the remaining wood away from the frame.

“Jimin…” You whimper, ignoring the weakness in your body before crawling your way up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.

Jimin breaks down, reaching out for you…

You’re still in the same outfit he last saw you in.

“Baby, come here…come here…” He pulls you into his arms, his body shaking with his cries as he holds you so tight, it’s almost painful, “I got you, I got you. You’re safe now, you’re safe…”

You’re face in his neck, sobbing whilst your fists clutch his blazer.

You don’t fully understand what’s going on, or why they are here dressed like little princes.

But, you’re not in the headspace to ask.

You just want to stay in Jimin’s arms and, never let go.

“We’re so sorry…” Jungkook sniffles, wrapping his arms around you and Jimin.

Taehyung follows suit, letting his tears fall, “We’re going to make sure they pay for what they did to you.”

Time seems to stand still as you relish in the affection of the people closest to you.

“Don’t ever be sorry. Look what you guys did…you found me. You saved me.” You whisper weakly, your face remaining in Jimin’s neck.

“Jimin? Taehyung? What on earth is going on?”

The sound of her voice makes your blood run cold…

Lady is sitting up, disorientated but before she has a chance to process what’s going on, Taehyung grabs the carving knife from the dining room table and holds it up to her neck.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same question.”

Lady’s mouth parts in shock, her eyes widening in fear, “I- I-“ She glances around the room before she spots you and, her heart stalls, “I can explain…”

Jimin wants to freak out on her, he really does but, he doesn’t want to let go of you.

“Lady…” He spits from the floor, setting his piercing gaze on her, “Why the fuck is my girlfriend in your cellar?”

She hesitates and, Taehyung can tell she’s looking for a way out so, he presses the knife into her skin, “Answer him.” He hisses through his teeth

Jungkook stands as well, prepared to back him up should he need it.

“Jimin please, you must know. I was only looking out for you…women like her, they ruin men like you. I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?!” He barks, shaking his head in disbelief, “By murdering the only woman I’ve ever loved? By putting my friends and I through the worst week of our life?!”

Taehyung holds the knife steady as he jerks his head towards her, “Stand up…”

She obliges, mouth parted in disbelief, her hands up in front of her submissively, “You’re working three jobs to support yourself, I’ve been trying to help you but, I knew you wouldn’t accept it unless you had no other choice. I knew she…” She sends a glare your way, “…would always be in your ear. She was all you ever spoke about, I needed to get her out of the way so, you could start focusing on you.”

“She has a name you crazy bitch…” Jimin lets out a humorless laugh, helping you to your feet, “She has a name and, a life and, people who love her and, you…” He points a finger in her face, “…you tried to take that from her. How many people have ended up in your basement huh?! How many lives have you ruined?!”

Her expression shifts to one of pure malice, a devilish smirk appearing on her lips, “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend?” She turns her gaze towards you, “Tell him, tell him how many skeletons you found beneath my house.”

This angers you.

Initially, you didn’t understand.

You didn’t understand the significance of running into Noah that night.

You didn’t understand why he offered to call you a Taxi.

You didn’t understand why the driver intentionally missed your turn.

And after you were knocked out, you didn’t understand why you were brought to this place.

The big house.

But now, it makes sense.

This pathetic excuse of a woman, gets off on kidnapping the less fortunate.

She breeds new monsters in the process, taking their loved ones and capitalizing off of their grief.

She takes them in and, turns them to stone.

“You wanted them to think I was dead…so you could convince them to leave their lives behind.” Your voice isn’t a hundred percent but, your gaze is steady as it pierces into her.

She chuckles despite the knife being pressed to her throat, “Hmm so it does have a brain. I knew I couldn’t convince Jimin to work for me unless I broke his heart first. Men are much easier to manipulate when they feel like they have nothing left.”

Taehyung practically snarls, “Let’s waste this bitch, we can tell the police that-“

Lady’s cackle is abrupt, her eyes crinkling with delight, “The police! Ha! The police work for me, why do you think they never looked for your little friend hm? They knew where she was, I pay them a pretty penny to keep their mouth shut.”

Another almost cartoonish voice interrupts the conversation as it crackles over the intercom, “Mam is everything alright in there? We heard a commotion.”

Shit.

It’s one of the guards.

Jungkook is prepared to fight, he looks around for a weapon and, grabs the hammer from the floor.

“Noah! No everything is not ok! It seems as though my guests have overstayed their welcome…” She seethes before another smile appears on her lips, “Kill them…”

Jimin grabs you immediately, pushing you behind him and, Taehyung’s grip tightens on Lady’s waist, keeping her in place.

“Uhhh yeah I don’t know who the fuck Noah is but, uh- oh wait! Yah, Hoseok! Isn’t Noah the one you hit with the Range Rover?”

The voice morphs again and, you actually laugh at the sound of Yoongi’s voice echoing through the speaker.

“Holy shit…” Jungkook chuckles in disbelief

“That scrawny little blonde dude??” Hoseok’s voice literally warms your heart as it reaches your ears, “Yeah he’s out like a light sorry, anyone else you’d like to speak to?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Lady hisses, panic settling into her senses, “I’ll have the police here in minutes, you’ll be thrown in prison for the rest of your lives!”

“Ouch, we were afraid you’d say that. See, but the thing is, we destroyed all of your fancy ass cameras but, we left the audio running so…” Jin’s voice chimes in next, explaining her demise, “the only thing the police will hear is a taped confession, you wrinkly ass bitch. And let me just say my dear, you look like your pussy is covered in dust and, that’s why you’re going down, all because you thought you might get some dick...pity.

Jin’s insult causes laughter to move through the four of you and, you can’t help but, feel moved at how dedicated your friends are.

“You filthy bastards, you better get your grimy hands off of my cars before, I add grand theft auto to your long list of charges.”

They laugh hysterically on the other end of the line before; Namjoon speaks up, “Ok boomer.”

In the next moment, Lady takes advantage of the distraction and, quickly lunges at you, her hands going for your neck but, before she can reach you, she’s knocked out of the way by Jungkook.

It’s an instinctual reaction but, it does the job

Because instead of landing on you, Lady falls down the hole in the floor to the cellar.

The four of you rush over to the entrance to see her body laying still at the bottom of stairs.

There is a bit of silence before you speak up, staying close to Jimin, “What do we do?”

He smirks, wrapping an arm around you, “Leave her. Let her die alone with her all nice shit.”

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin rush in finally and as soon as they spot you, they sigh out in relief.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re ok.”

“We knew we’d find you. Fuck, we missed you so much.”

“If you ever get kidnapped again, I will beat your ass.”

You just smile, giggling at their comments, holding them close.

“Thank you for looking for me. I love you guys so much.”

Yoongi nods to the cellar door and, him and Jimin exchange glances, “Here.” Yoongi tosses him a small black hard drive which Jimin catches seamlessly, “Throw that down there too. It’s the audio from tonight…”

The rest of you aren’t sure how they managed to do it.

But, those questions are reserved for later.

Right now, you just want to get out of there.

Jimin smirks, standing over the edge of the hole in the floor before dropping it in, relishing in the sound it makes as it clatters down the steps.

“Should we call the police?” Hoseok asks, slightly breathless from all the excitement.

“Why would we?” Yoongi grins, shrugging his shoulders, “Girls like her disappear all the time…”

“Good point.” Jin nods returning his grin, and everyone’s eyes are still trained on the hole in the floor.

You aren’t sure if she’s dead but, you’re hoping she isn’t.

She deserves to spend the rest of her life suffering for what she did to you, for what she did to so many others…

“What happened to the guards?” You ask, lacing your fingers with Jimin and, he responds by tightening his grip on your hand.

“We knocked em out. They’re tied up in the garage.” Namjoon remarks coolly

“Let’s get out of here. We need to leave town for few days until the police figure everything out.” Taehyung says, finally dropping the knife to the floor.

“Good thing we have a ride then…” Hoseok holds up the keys to the Range Rover and, the eight of you are giddy with the promise of freedom.

Jungkook stays close to Namjoon and, as rest of you exit the house; he spots movement in the corner of his eyes.

Near the coat rack, sits a long-haired white Persian cat.

Jungkook can’t help himself.

If he isn’t going to kill this terrible woman, he’s at least going to take her cat.

Hit her where it hurts you know?

“Hyung…” He stops Namjoon and, he looks confused for a moment until he spots what Jungkook is pointing out.

Jungkook doesn’t wait to reach out to the furry creature, “ Here kitty kitty.”

The cat rubs against his hand, tiny purs erupting from it’s mouth and, Jungkook smiles as he takes it into his arms.

Namjoon smirks fondly at the two of them before his eyes light up when he sees the name engraved on the cat’s golden collar.

“Cognac.” He breathes and, he and Jungkook share a moment as they exit the house.

The eight of you pile into the Range Rover, with Jin in the driver’s seat and, immediately, you find yourself beside Jimin.

“I thought I lost you…” He whispers desperately, placing a few kisses to your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper back, smiling into his lips before leaning forward to make an announcement to the rest of the car, “Hey guys uh…I think I have a way we can leave town for a bit.”

“How?” Hoseok furrows his brow, leaning around Jimin to see you.

“With this…” You grin and, from the middle of your bra, you pull out several bundles of money, each of them labeled $20,000.

You left the bones in the cellar for the police to find.

But the money?

The money, you took with you.

The police wouldn’t need it for their investigation right?

The seven of them look at you in shock before Yoongi lets out a sound you’ve never heard him make before; it’s pure unfiltered joy.

“Oh fuck yeah…”

Plage de Maeva, Tahiti- Two Months Later

Justice came in pieces.

It started with Cognac and, the massive fortune Lady left behind; both of which were returned to their rightful owner, the man at the river.

Then came Jaebeom; the eight of you dropped off a few thousand for him at the club, along with your findings.

A different precinct responded to the distress call from Lady’s home.

She survived the figurative fall yes but, the fall from grace that would soon follow completely destroyed her.

She was brought in on 9 counts of first degree murder, 7 counts of kidnapping, stalking, conspiracy to commit fraud and, a myriad of other charges.

The suits were brought in as well and, suffered similar fates.

Between them, 293 years of prison was to be served.

The staff at the motel, the patrons of the Chamomile Country Club and, even Clementine herself were all publically humiliated when the news broke of Lady’s true nature.

She had been paying them all for their silence.

No charges were brought against them but, their statuses as pariahs seemed fitting enough.

The news came to all of you quite late because, you were far too busy enjoying your own personal victories…on an island called Tahiti.

520,000 was certainly enough to get you out of town and, by the looks of it, you may never return…

“Every second, every minute, man I swear that she can get it Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high Tell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood I'm talking 'bout dark room, perfume Go, go!”

Yoongi’s voice echoes loudly with the help of his microphone as he raps the lyrics to a rather befitting song by Kendrick Lamar.

It was karaoke night on the rooftop of your resort and the eight of you, along with your loved ones are enjoying every second of it.

Hoseok rushes on stage with Yoongi, laughing as he does, “I recognize your fragrance (hol' up!) You ain't never gotta say shit (woo!) And I know your taste is A little bit (mmm) high maintenance (ooh) Everybody else basic You live life on an everyday basis with-“ He holds the mic out and, the rest of you scream the lyrics with beaming smiles.

“POETIC JUSTICE, POETIC JUSTICE- IF I TOLD YOU A FLOWER BLOOMED IN A DARK ROOM WOULD YOU TRUST IT?”

Jimin is behind you, with his arms secured around your waist, giggling through the words.

He’s euphoric at the moment, he’s never been so happy in his entire life.

Namjoon hits the stage next, and the song continues with the help of your friends and the crowd,

“I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to you When you're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my pen Better yet where your friends and them? I really wanna know you all I really wanna show you off Fuck that, pour up plenty of champagne Cold nights when you curse this name….”

Jungkook and Taehyung are at the front of the crowd hyping them up whilst Jin sings loudly with his fiancée.

The next part Jimin croons into your ear, tightening his grip on you as the words have so much meaning:

“And anytime…” He sings, kissing into your neck, “You can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it- And I know just know just know just know just what you want…poetic justice, put it in a song, alright.”

You turn in his arms then, kissing him deeply, pouring everything you have into it.

“You kept your promise.” You whisper, grinning against his lips.

“My promise?” He giggles, kissing you back, his eyes deep with emotion.

You cup his cheek, biting your lip as you hold back your tears, “The night I disappeared, you promised me, we’d get our break…”

His smile widens and, rather than use his words, he just kisses you again.

Because, he can.

Because, you’re safe.

Because, you’re his.

The rooftop is a place you often end up.

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of rich kids corralled onto a fancy ass resort building on a tropical island, the waves crashing in the background.

But you and your friends aren’t ordinary rich kids.

The worst any of you has ever done is rob an old lady’s house, push her down the stairs, leave her for dead and, then ruin her life but…

To be fair…

That bitch deserved it.

656 notes · View notes

likesomekindofcheese · 4 years

Text

The Nurse and the Skywalker (6 Undergound Oneshot)

Paring: Four/Billy x nurse! Reader

Word Count: 1847

From anon request: Can you do one with Ben( as 4/Billy in underground 6) getting injured and you’re a no-nonsense nurse having to tend to his wounds and he flirts with you at first, but then he gets serious/tender and vulnerable with you and it makes your heart melt?

Warnings: Swearing, hospitals, mentions of blood, illness, surgery, and injuries.

A/N: Thanks for your patience! Much thanks to @rhapsodyrecs for suggesting a great line! As well as @yourlocalmusicalprostitute and @joeneslee when writers block got me in this one!

The afternoon coffee you had been sipping was gulped in one hot swig when your co-worker ran in, yelling “Y/N! It’s an emergency! You need to hurry!”

The 12-hour shift and it’s exhaustion was forgotten at the words. Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you were led into the room.

“A young man-he has a bad injury-he’s been shot and his bones are broken too!” she cried.

Looking over, the patient was young. Not too far from your own age in fact. He was groaning in pain. His arm and leg were broken. But you noticed a few gashes here and there. Still bleeding. A lot. But he looked up and kept his eyes on you. As you reached over to see some charts the mysterious man left and what could be known, you felt his eyes, and saw him even crane his neck just to keep an eye out on you.

Maybe I spilled something on my scrubs you thought, dismissing the notion as they wheeled his bed out into the hallway.

“Quick, give me the anathesea- and a surgeon- we can get the bullet out, but we have to be swift!”

You were handed the pain medicine to give to the patient.

As you put the tube over his mouth, he glanced up at you. His eyes were as green as a field on a picnic day. And you noticed his hair as well-it was cut short but very blonde.

“I…I’m scared…please don’t…” he muttered lowly.

You felt your guts stir at the sound. He was deeply hurt. If he didn’t have the bullet removed, he was a goner.

“What is your name…?” you asked.

“I…don’t…have…a name…” he croaked.

He turned ghostly white and then pink.

“I…I’m sorry, I should have been stronger…thought I could make that jump…I couldn’t. I’m not that fucking strong…” he muttered.

“Who dropped him off?” you asked your co-worker.

She shrugged.

“This guy with a beard and this weird voice and then after we got the kid on a bed, he just vanished with all the bills paid already in cash! The guy was loaded!” she gossiped, tugging at her bright pink scrubs.

Turning to the patient, you forced him to look right into your eyes.“Okay mister, you don’t have a choice. You got lucky someone paid all of your bills, so you better suck it up and be grateful, got it?” you scolded.

He looked at you blankly before you put it right to his mouth and wheeled him to the surgeon’s office.

Two hours later you got word that the boy got lucky. The bullet was found and removed. It wasn’t too deep and nowhere near any vital organs. But he seemed to be ill and needed to be checked up and have his limbs bandaged.

“Here he is…he’s still on the pain medicine some, so he might be a little loopy…” the surgeon warned, before leaving you alone in the room to do your work.

“Hello…I’m Y/N, I’m your nurse…hang in there, you’re gonna be fine…” you said, he seemed half asleep. Almost in another world. There was no reply.You were checking his blood pressure when his eyes fluttered open. Your head whipped around as you tied the black strap tightly around his arm.

“Hey there…” he croaked out.

“Checking your blood pressure, hold up…” you mumbled, making it tight as possible.

“I must be in a museum…” he said softly.

“Well, I don’t see any Da Vinci any…”

“Because you’re a piece of art.”

Your jaw dropped and your head whipped around to see him. Did that really come out of him? Moments after he was near death.

“Pardon?”

He gave you a half smile and you felt a blush creeping up on you and it made you mad. Of all places this was happening- at work!

Did a patient really just flirt with me? Maybe it’s just my imagination.

You undid the black strap and set it away without a word, writing down the numbers. He reached over and picked up the menu of food options to be ordered for patients.

“Do you know what’s on the menu?” he asked.

“Vegetables. You better order some with your dinner. Eat up, your body’s in bad enough condition…”

“Close, but it’s Me ‘n you.” He added with a devilish grin.

Your ears heard it right alright. You felt them grow hot.

“You know what else is on the menu? This antiseptic,” you ordered. Walking over to the side and getting an orange bottle and some cotton balls, eyes on his wounds. As you began to apply some to the cuts, the cool guy façade dropped.

“NNNnnnnng, no! No! And I’m sorry! Won’t do it! Won’t do it!” he whined. His voice getting a little higher than what was considered manly.

“Just shut up and suck it up, Romeo,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

The next day a woman arrived to check on the patient. A beautiful woman with tan skin and yellow hair with a white suit. You felt envy twinge in your stomach as her heels clicked on the tile floor.

She went into the room. If only you did not have duties currently. But no, scratch it, you weren’t interested. Not some cheeky patient that was trying to break all the medical oaths in the book. Passing by the room to put away your lunch box, you forced your ears shut at the quiet conversation they had.

As you returned, she left the door of the room. She looked up at you and pointed at you to come near.

“You are nurse Y/N, right?” she asked in a European accent.

“Yes, I am.”

She glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. Then she leaned closer.

“How long have you worked here?” she asked.

You told her.

“Good, you know what you’re doing. We…we just need a bit of help. He’s on…on my company. He got hurt. Badly.” She said softly.

Yeah, no shit you thought.

“What caused the wounds? I think he mentioned a jump…” you asked, folding your arms skeptically. What kind of sketchy company was this that was all hush and made gallons of money where people got shot?

Her pink lips tightened, she glanced to the left and then answered “It was a fall. Bad one. Just…an accident.”

“What’s your name? And what’s his name? Why did he get shot? Was there a shooting at your job?” you asked.

“We would prefer to be anonymous,” she answered coldly.

“What, why?”

“For protection. He’s here to get better, right?” she answered with a twinge of annoyed anger.

“Yes…”

“Don’t hurt him, then…or make him do anything to hurt himself more…”

She turned around and clicked away, but gave you one look, softened. As if to silently say thank you- even if you did ask questions about whatever this “company” was.

Hours later, you came into the room with the patient. Though you armed yourself to fight off like the black cat with Pepe le Pew, he looked at you and glanced down at his lap. His left arm and right foot was in a cast and he seemed red as a beet in his face. But the light in his eyes were glazed, but had dimmed. And he seemed in pain.

His forehead was like a furnace. Sticking a thermometer in his mouth, you watched the numbers rise above healthy at the end. Gently, you pulled it out to put it away.

A half-grin reappeared on his face.

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” he said.

“No, you got a fever dumbass,” you replied.

You showed him the temperature and he huffed lightly.

“Well, you will have to stay here a bit longer. Injured and sick. It doesn’t seem bad, but it’s still a double whammy. Three or four days…” you said,

He pulled out his free hand to play with his phone, pouting in defeat. You stayed to type into the pad you used for work to keep track of patients charts.

“Bi-billy…”

“Hm, what?” you said, turning around.

“You wanted my name, I’m…I’m Billy…” he confessed.

“Okay, thank you! I can finally call you something other than Romeo,” you jested.

“That’s not a bad name, either though,” he said.

The doctor working on him informed you that his fever did have a chance of breaking in the night. You offered to stay.

“Why, Y/N…you’re worried about him?” the doctor asked, cocking her head.

You shook away the creeping blush and smile growing on you.

“I just want the extra hours for pay!” you insisted.

You stayed there, reading with him. You realized what he was doing on his phone- watching movies.

“American movies are the best, like, us on the Pond get all the boring, slow stuff- America is where the real movies are!” he commented when you glanced over.

“Hey- that one’s my favorite!” you cried, recognizing it at once.

Indulging it, you watched the rest of it. Talking about your favorite actors, quoting the lines, and smiling ear to ear by the time the credits rolled by on the tiny screen.

“I was so scared…I was gonna die…” Billy confessed, setting the phone down.

“It’s just medicine,” you scoffed.

“No…when I fell…” he said.

“Really?” you asked, leaving the sarcasm.

“I felt that was it. You see…I…no, I shouldn’t…” he mumbled, looking down.

“You can tell me…” you urged.

“I got a chance to…uh, do something important. It was risky, but it was better than what I had before but I…I thought I was dead for good because I slipped and fell…” he added on.

Recalling the first day, he had a bullet in his body as well. How did that get in there? There was no news you checked of a shooting anywhere.

“And you were shot…how did you get shot?” you questioned.

“I…I can’t tell you everything but I just feel…I can trust you…someone was in danger…and I was trying to get him out and some’ow…I got shot and I fell off…” Billy explained.

“Fell off? Of what?”

“The skyscraper downtown…” he confessed, eyes down to his lap again.

“What! No! That’s a hundred feet high! How in hell are you even alive?” you gasped.

He looked at you and laughed.

“That’s some bad fucking words for a medical professional!” he teased. “But that’s a good question, really…”

Outside the window, a bird sat in the darkness on the pane. Its feathers seemed to glean in the moonlight. It was a clear night, even a sky filled with stars could be seen despite the smoke of the city

“I…I’m glad you survived. I’m glad you didn’t die and so you could- you know- help whoever this person is you were trying to help,” you commented. And this time you smiled back.

“I…I’m glad you were there to help me…dunno what I’ll do next time I’ll fall…” he said.

“I should be there then…”

Taglist: @themarchoftherainbowqueen @rhapsodyrecs (thanks for the wonderful line!) @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @sgt-stardust-killer-queen @queenlover05 @lady-ofmischief

#nurse! reader #nurse! y/n #6 underground #ben hardy characters #four/billy #four/billy x reader #four/billy x you #four/billy x y/n #ben hardy #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x reader #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground fanfic #6 underground oneshot #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy oneshot #carrie writes

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lukneetoonz · 4 years

Text

Oblivious

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Summary: You’re in love with a boy who thinks you’d never love him… what happens when he overhears you talking about him?

Pairing: Shinsou x Female!reader

Warnings: Angst, cussing, but it’s coot I promise

Word Count: 2,244

A/N: Been in a funk lately and don’t know what to write! Ask box is open for suggestions!

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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Lilacs, the smell of coffee and lavender, and the sounds of video games were all things that reminded you of the boy that you admired. Your friends called it love, but you called it a silly crush, because how can you love someone who doesn’t love you? Shinsou Hitoshi was always on your mind, even if he didn’t do anything to be on it, you just couldn’t get him out. It didn’t help that you guys were best friends, for that is what Shinsou continuously calls your relationship. Seemingly reminding you that you’re nothing but his friend, someone for him to go to when he doesn’t have anyone else. You were a placement holder, and that hurt.

Snapping fingers in front of your face brought you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting a group of concerned ones. “Y/N… we hate seeing you look so sad. Why don’t you take Mina up on that offer and go on a blind date?” Uraraka spoke softly to you, almost like her words could send you crashing down at any moment. Shaking your head you groaned and rubbed your face, “But I can’t! I can’t go on a date when I can’t get him out of my head… it’s not fair to the other person. I’m not just going to use someone to get over another…” your words only made the girls frown deeper.

Mina stood up abruptly and put her hands on her hips as she raised her eyebrows at you, “I just don’t see it. Honestly Y/N! You could have any guy in our class- scratch that, our grade, yet you’re sitting here because this crazy haired asshole can’t see how amazing you are!” Her words made you blush as you huff and hug yourself, looking away, none of you aware that there was now an extra set of ears on your private conversation. “You guys don’t get it! He’s so- gah! I can’t even put it into words. No one comments on how Uraraka is crushing on Midoriya!”

Momo smiled sadly as Uraraka fell on the floor covering her red face, “Because they’re both too awkward and shy to admit their feelings when it’s both obvious they like each other. It’s like they’re dating, but aren't. It’s also because Midoriya isn’t emotionally constipated” Momo stated simply but elegantly as the others nodded along as you blushed, and felt aggravation bubble inside you. But just beyond the common room and in the hallway stood shinsou, back against the wall as he tried to quiet his breathing, wanting to find out more about the crush of the girl he's hopelessly in love with.

“He isn’t emotionally constipated! He’s- god- he shows he cares and stuff but in his own way… he has such a kind heart and beautiful soul it just makes me want to dive deeper into what makes him, well him! And when he talks about something he’s passionate about, his eyes they just- lighten up slightly as they also crinkle because he’s smiling and the sight alone rips my breath away. I can’t even describe him by using three words because he deserves the whole damn dictionary! Why can’t you guys see how wonderful he is? He isn’t just some asshole, hes special. That’s why I’ve fallen so hard for him and I don’t regret a second of it.” You’re panting by the time you stop your rant, all eyes on you as you look to the ground embarrassed.

“Y/N, we didn’t know-” Mina tried to start but you quickly dismissed her, “Of course you didn’t know, because no one else in the room spends as much time admiring him like I do.” A sad smile etched on your face, making tsuyu and Uraraka hug you, which you automatically found comfort in. Meanwhile a lilac eyed boy had left his spot and went to his dorm, upset with himself for falling for someone who obviously loved someone that wasn’t him. How could he have been so stupid to even think for a second it could have been him?

*•*

Your head rested on your desk as you listened to the girls talk about the number two hero and gush about how good looking he is. Moving to focus on the empty seat next to you, the pang in your chest didn’t go unnoticed as you frowned. Normally shinsou would be in class already, but for the past few days he's been showing up later, not to mention he’s been leaving class in a rush and pushing you away. It hurt- god did it hurt. Pushing the feelings away, you turned to look at your friends and smiled softly at whatever they were saying.

“Y/N you’re not even paying attention, what’s on your mind?” Momo spoke up, making you sigh. “I know we aren’t- a thing, but he’s barely even looked my way in days and that hurts so much.” You mumbled softly, trying not to stare at his empty seat. “I don’t even know what I did wrong… it’s like I want to ask him but- that terrifies me. Confrontation terrifies me” tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your head in your arms. Your friends knew of your anxiety and honestly if it wasn’t for them, you’d sit in the back of the class and keep to yourself.

It was always the girls talking to you first or making plans, making sure it was something small and intimate because you didn’t like to go out to places that drew a bunch of attention to you. Honestly that was your worst nightmare, just like how the sports festival was horrible for you. When you did go to an agency, you were picked for an underground work agency, not that you didn’t mind. So the fact that you might have to go up and ask your best friend what you did wrong, and then listen to what you did wrong, was killing you on the inside.

Like clockwork, a indigo haired boy walked through the door right before the bell rang, barely giving you a glance, his cold demeanor making you flinch. Taking a deep breath you thought of a great idea that allowed you to talk to Shinsou, but also didn’t make it as scary. You got your notebook out and tore a piece of paper out quietly, before thinking of what to write.

You: ‘Hi =) are you okay? It’s just- I feel like we haven’t been able to talk lately’

Yeah… that’s good. It’s subtle and the smiley face is cute… well hopefully. Tapping on Shinsou’s shoulder you bit your lip, waiting for him to turn around, but he never did. Maybe he just didn’t feel it, you could tap rather light sometimes, so once again you tapped his shoulder, only to get a shoulder shrug in response. You felt your throat go dry as tears threatened to spill, gripping the note in your hand. You stood up abruptly and ran out of class, ignoring Aizawa asking you where you were going.

Shinsou saw you leave, he heard your quiet whimper, he felt your taps. But he couldn’t respond to any of it, why could he when he was hopelessly in love with you and you were in love with someone else? So much so in fact that you ignored your friends pleas to move on. Burying his own head in his arms, he groaned quietly as he tried to get you out of his thoughts. Mina stared at the boy with eyes that could kill, he was the one that was hurting her friend so much, and yet he was still here looking unfazed while you ran out crying.

*•*

Once class ended, Shinsou went to rush out like he’d been doing but was cornered by every single girl in that class, Pinky leading the group. “Who do you think you are to act like this, you emotionally constipated flower. Y/N cares for you and yet here you are avoiding her like she has the plague for no good reason. God I don’t even know what she sees in you anyway” as soon as those words left her mouth, several different pairs of hands flew to cover Mina’s mouth. Shinsou looked at her with a star struck look, before he groaned and facepalmed.

“I’m such an asshole! I thought- I overheard her talking the other night and I thought she liked someone that obviously wasn’t me…” rubbing his face, he had desperate eyes. “I thought if I distanced myself, it would hurt less when she started dating someone that wasn’t me” Some of the girls awed, but Mina merely flicked him. “Just shut up and go after her! You should be explaining this to her, not us dipshit!” Tsuyu eyed Mina and giggled, “You’ve been hanging around Bakugou too much… he's starting to rub off on you”

Shinsou didn’t even stay to hear the girls bicker before he ran off towards the dorms, with only you on his mind. Panting, he finally made it to the place he needed to be and wasted no time on pounding on your door, not once stopping in between knocks. “Guys please- I don’t wanna talk about it..” The croak of your voice broke the lilac eyed boy, making him sigh in defeat. “Y/N, kitten, please let me in… I need to apologize for being such an asshole to my best friend” His soft voice broke through the door, making you tense.

That word. Best friend. That’s all you’ll ever be. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tightly clutched onto your pillow, trying to hide your sniffling. “I’m fine Shinsou, j-just go back to class.” Resting his head against the door, Shinsou frowned deeply and closed his own eyes, trying to picture your form. “No you’re not Y/N…. you’re not fine and it’s my fault. I was being an asshole to you because I assumed things because of my own insecurities. Now can you please open the door so I can tell you this to your face?” He thought the desperate plea had failed until he heard the click of your lock and the turning of your doorknob, door opening to reveal your watery (E/C) eyes.

“Fuck- Y/N. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to be the cause of your tears, I promise to never cause your tears again.” Quickly he cupped your face and pursed his lips as he took in your upset appearance. A blush spread across your face from his intimate touch, looking anywhere but his face, “w-why are you acting like this Shinsou? It hurts…” Your whimpers caught his heart and he brought you into a hug, clutching onto you like you’d push him away. “I love you… okay? I-I heard you talking in the common room the other day and I never thought you could be talking about me, so I pushed you away because I thought it would hurt less then when you started seeing someone that wasn’t me.”

The boy's confession shocked you as you froze, slowly you hugged him back, a smile crawling it’s way onto your flustered face. “Who told you? T-that I was talking about you?” Shinsou chuckled lightly, pulling away and brushed your hair off your face that stuck to the wetness from your tears, “Mina let it slip slightly and I just put two and two together…” Suddenly his face grew serious as he tensed, “I never want to cause you tears again… I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry” giggling, you reached up and squished his cheeks together, eyes looking down at the lips you’ve fantasised about for so long.

“I love you too, Toshi…” You were so focused on his lips you didn’t see his own eyes that were focused on your plump lips. “Can I kiss you?” Blushing, you looked to meet his eyes to see if he was serious, slowly nodding you let him inch forward until his lips ghosted against yours, eyes closing when your lips finally clashed in a soft, but slow kiss. It was full of emotion and innocence, his lips moved against yours eagerly because this was something he's wanted to do for ages. The both of you only pulling away for air, foreheads resting against each other as the sound of your soft pants filled the air.

“Be ready at 7 tonight, okay kitten?” Tilting your head, you looked at Shinsou confused and he chuckled, merely pecking your lips. “I have to take my girlfriend on a first date don’t I?” Girlfriend? First date? Shit you just squealed in front of your BOYFRIEND?! Quickly you nodded and ran inside your room, slamming the door, a smile on your face as you finally got your lilac boy.

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #ely here #shinsouhitoshiimaginedarlingely #shinsou imagine #hitoshi shinso imagine #shinsou x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #mha hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou headcanons

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sanababes · 4 years

Text

Requested by: anon

Mine

Pairings: fem!reader x Choi Sooyoung / Joy

Warnings: nothing much, just some (not really) mafia au scenario

/ it's my first writing about this so yeah, please bear with it and I couldn't really stick to the plot hehe /

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Park Sooyoung, the youngest underground mafia boss in Seoul had been keeping her eyes on a one specific woman. But due to the conflicts in her schedule, she couldn't have time to arrange a proper meeting with you, Kang Y/n. She also has a small knowledge about you that makes her more excited to meet you personally.

Meanwhile, you're the daughter of Kang Seungwoo (just a random name lol) who is one of the prestigious individuals when it comes to political status. The Kang family haven't been involved in unnecessary rumors or news, in other words they are strict and timid with their actions. You really didn't care about it and you despise people who show their interest on you for their own sake or for money.

Your cold and ignorant attitude had been your own bestfriend when interacting with people which you hate the most. When your family is invited in an event, you would keep a reserved aura. Luckily, your cousin Hyewon is there to accompany you for the whole time.

Today is a rather interesting day since it's your 21st year of living in this unwholesome world.

You were awoken by Miss Choi, your beloved nanny since you came out of your mother's womb. The older tapped your shoulder gently that made you slur inaudible sounds.

"Goodmorning, young master. It's already 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Your father is expecting you in the dining room as fast as possible"

(Bruh does that even make sense lol, morning then noon i-)

After a few seconds of adjusting your sight into the bright lighting, you opened your eyes then brushed your hand through your ruffled hair. Miss Choi prepared a warm bath for you to freshen up and start your special day. You got up up from your bed slowly then entered the bathroom sluggishly. You removed the pieces of clothing on your body then dipped yourself into the water. A sigh escaped from your lips as you closed your eyes from the tranquilizing feeling sipping through your skin.

It took you roughly 20 minutes to get yourself dry and dressed up casually. You strutted gracefully downstairs and saw your parents chatting as they ate lunch peacefully.

"Hi darling, happy birthday to you!" Your mother hugged you tightly then gave a kiss on your cheek.

"Thanks mom" you smiled lightly.

"Happy birthday, Y/n" your father greeted.

You thanked him then joined them for lunch. They talked about business things and you would occasionally answer their questions, stuffs like that.

When you're all done, they left immediately for a quick meeting at the city hall with 2 bodyguards guiding them to a black Mercedes.

You looked around your spacious living room and decided to call your bestfriend Yujin to come over. The latter agreed quickly and was on the way already.

You sat comfortably against the classy couch and waited for Yujin to arrive. You fished out your phone then scrolled through Insta then you saw Sooyoung's recent post.

"Hmm, she's cute..." you mumbled nonchalantly.

"Who's cute, Y/n/n?"

You flinched and almost fell when you saw Yujin peeking behind your shoulder.

"Bitch! When did you even got here?" You asked.

"I just came in a minute ago. Miss Choi had let me in" the latter smiled cheekily.

"You almost gave me a heart attack..." you grumbled while putting your hand over your chest.

"I'm sorry, so who's cute?" Yujin sat beside you and waited for your answer.

"Uhh, no one" you managed to say.

The girl looked at you suspiciously then glanced at your phone.

"Ahh I see, so Park Sooyoung aka Joy is your type now huh?" She teased while nudging your shoulder.

A blush crept into your cheeks as you tried to deny what your bestfriend said.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about" you pressed the home button of your phone nervously.

"Yeah yeah, don't worry I won't tell anyone"

Yujin looked at you, trying not to laugh at your priceless reaction. You just shook your head and grabbed the remote of the TV.

"Oh! Happy birthday you jerk" she added.

"Yeah, I thought you wouldn't remember" you said sarcastically.

"Oh come on, how can I forget my baby's bday" she pinched your cheeks while making some cringy noise.

You whined and tried to pry her hands off.

"Yah! if you don't put your hands down imma kill you" you threatened.

"Fine, fine. So why did you called me over? Your party will not start until the sun sets though"

'Oh right, the party yey...'

"Ughh, I dont want to goooo" you complained like child.

"Duh of course you need to go, it's your own celebration for fuck sake" Yujin stated with an 'as a matter of fact' tone.

Your parents prepared a party for your special day. Many influential people are invited and Sooyoung was one of them. You had seen her before from fashion events that was held by her own company.

She was pretty popular and has been known as an independent woman. You also by the way, is interested to know her more which is quite rare.

"What are you going to wear Y/n?" Yujin suddenly asked.

"Uh just some suit that I bought recently"

You weren't a fan of girly stuffs so yeah, you're wearing suits frequently.

"Hmm, what should I wear then?" The latter said while scratching her not so itchy chin.

"Just say that you want to borrow my clothes again" you chuckled as you smacked Yujin's head playfully.

"Oh man, how did you know?"

You just snickered at her antics .

"I know you so well Yujin-ah" the latter started to pout like a child.

"Shall we get ready early instead? I'm bored" you yawned wearily.

Yujin agreed as you both walked upstairs towards your room.

---- time skip ----

You're currently sipping a vintage Vinfolio wine as Hyewon and Yujin kept blabbering between you. Your parents in the other hand, are talking with some acquaintance from what you can see in your peripheral vision.

Meanwhile, Sooyoung has been glancing at you from time to time with some of her 'secretly' mafia members chatting beside her. The gorgeous woman decided to muster up her courage and strutted towards your table. You noticed her in a short red-sparkled dress which hugged her toned body perfectly. She had confident smile on her lips, determined to make you fall for her.

"Good evening Y/n-ssi, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time" Sooyoung greeted and lend her hand out for a hand shake.

"It goes the same for me, Joy-ssi" you showed your signature smile and held her hand gently.

"Wanna talk somewhere else? It's pretty crowded in here..." the latter suggested as you shared a meaningful look with Hyewon and Yujin which they understood quickly.

"Yeah, sure" you nodded and guided Sooyoung to the nearest balcony within the ginormous event hall.

"So I heard you're planning to collab with the Kim's corporation next month"

"Hmm, we're still discussing about the terms of the company so it's not sure yet" you answered politely.

"I didn't know that Sangwoo is your father" Sooyoung stated while staring at your side profile.

You looked out into the distance and agreed timidly. The latter bit her lips then went closer to you.

"You know what, can we hangout sometimes when you're free?"

You chuckled lightly while swirling your wine glass in a circular motion.

"Are you trying to hit on me Miss Park?" Sooyoung smirked while dragging along your shoulder.

"I mean who wouldn't with someone attractive like you?" She flirted casually.

"Fine, meet me on Friday at Han River park. 6pm sharp Missy" you said while glancing at her.

Sooyoung smiled victoriously and kissed your cheek.

"I'll make you mine soon Y/n, mine..."

~the end~

I didn't sticked to prompt too much, sarry

#kpop imagines #red velvet #red velvet joy #park sooyoung #red velvet imagines #mafia idk #joy imagines #sooyoung imagines

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dragon-fics · 4 years

Text

DOS: Captured to Freed {pt.4} (Ugauc X Male Elf/reader)

Chapter summary: You and Ugauc have been brought back to your village... but how will your family feel about him.

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6

My head was throbbing, and a bright light was shining onto my face. I really didn’t want to open my eyes.

But then it all came back to me; Ugauc getting attacked, Bracken assaulting me, Eda knocking him out...

Ugauc bleeding out.

Ugauc!

My eyes snapped open. I was in my room, lying in my bed, a sheet and duvet draped over my body. Evening sunlight shone in through the window into my eyes and the room, reflecting off the glass of the small terrariums on my writing desk.

I pushed myself up slowly and rubbed my head; Bracken had hit me hard. I winced and edged towards the mirror on my wall. Purple rings surrounded my eyes and my eyes were bloodshot.

I groaned, I felt awful.

I slowly made my way out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen-dining area. My family sat around the table, my father leaning on the solid oak, my mother fiddling with a plaited bracelet, and my brother, Eldrin, was folding a corner of parchment from his spellbook anxiously as he skimmed over the words. Eda was staring at her sword, looking at its dull metal as she bit the inside of her cheek. They all looked so tense.

I gulped and made my way down the stairs. All eyes were on me as soon as the wood creaked beneath my feet.

I looked down, focusing on the knots in the wooden boards as I stopped by the table and sat beside Eldrin, as I do for every meal.

Everyone was eerily quiet. I wanted to ask about Ugauc, and how long I’d been out, and what had happened, and where Bracken was, but I held my tongue.

Mama looked to Papa, I watched as the two exchanged looks.

I have never been this nervous.

Mama put her hand on Papa’s and gave him a soft look. Papa drew in a breath and sat down at the head of the table.

“(Y/N),” he started in a soft tone.

I glanced aside and drew in a breath. “Yes, Papa?” I breathed.

“Who were you with in the woods?” He never took his eyes off of me.

I looked across at Eda.

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she replied, her hand stroking the blade of her sword.

“You knew about this?” Mama hissed, whipping her head around to Eda.

Eda inclined her head. “Yes.”

Mama gave both of us a look of distrust.

“I was with Ugauc, the dragon Bracken shot,” I answered, studying dark knot in the oak table.

Papa looked down at the wood. “That much was obvious.” He looked up at the lanterns hanging above the table. “How did you meet this dragon?”

“He—He’s my soulmate.” I saw my parents exchange worried looks. “Please, believe me! He has done nothing!”

Mama looked from me to Papa. “Calm down, (Y/N)” she soothed. “Just—“ she cut herself off to glance at Papa. “Just start from the beginning and leave nothing out.”

I released a shaky breath and started the thrilling tale of how I met my soulmate.

*-*-*-*

Eda and I peered around the corner of the smithy, looking across at the clan leader’s house. It was five storeys tall, with three sublevels below the ground—the biggest house in the village. And in one of those underground rooms, was Ugauc. The only light was from the windows of the houses and the torches lit in the streets.

“What if the others don’t believe Mama and Papa? What if they know it’s an illusion?” I thought aloud as we hid behind the wall.

Eda put a hand on my shoulder. “They won’t. Eldrin’s illusions are the most realistic ones you’ll ever see.” She poked my the tip of my nose.

“Ow.” I hissed. Eldrin had healed most of my bruising, but my nose was still tender.

“Sorry,” Eda whispered. She looked back around at the house. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She grabbed my wrist and jogged towards the house. I jogged after her, glancing over my shoulder from time to time.

We knelt by the steps up to the front door. Eda looked up at the windows, trying to spot an open window. I looked around, making sure no one was spying on us.

“You said you could communicate telepathically with each other, right?” Eda asked.

“Yeah, but I have no idea how to do that.”

“Well, at least try. Just think about him or something. That might do it,” Eda suggested as she dug her fingernails under each window on the ground level to prise it open—but none of them budged.

I did as she suggested and thought about Ugauc, focusing on his features; his green scales, his dark skin and hair, his horns, his wings, his eyes, his face, his firm jawline, his muscles.

My expression melted as I thought about his muscles.

Soon I felt as though my soul had left my body and was just floating in nothingness. But then I can across a wave of energy, almost as if Ugauc’s soul had come close to mine.

(Y/N)?

It was Ugauc’s voice. He sounded tired, but it was his voice.

My heart raced. He was alive! I quickly calmed myself down.

Yes, Ugauc, it’s me. We’re here to rescue you. Do you have any idea where you are?

In the biggest house in the village... They brought me down three flights of stairs... I’m at the very end of the corridor.

We’ll try to get to you as soon as we can, Ugauc, I promise.

See you soon, (Y/N).

Ugauc? I asked, trying to hold on to the connection.

Yes? His voice was fading.

I love you.

Pink and red tones came into my vision.

I love you too, (Y/N).

His presence faded from my mind. I brought my mind back to my body and opened my eyes.

“He’s weak,” I said ruefully. “he says he’s on the third sublevel, in the room farthest away from the staircase.”

Eda nodded.

And then chaos erupted. First came screams and cries, then shouts; “Dragon!” “The beast is angry that we took its brother!” “Kill it! Quickly!”

The large door of the house opened suddenly.

“Father!” Called Bracken. “They have spotted another beast!”

Moments later, Bracken, his father, and several members of the hunting squad rushed out of the house. Eda and I curled up among the bushes beside the stairs. The elves ran off to the south of the village, leaving the door open.

I looked up, noticing the light streaming down from the doorway. I swiftly ran up the stairs, Eda behind me.

We ran down the corridor towards the leader’s study, which was where the stairs to the basement were. A long time ago, Bracken and I had been close friends, and one time when I was over, he had shown me the staircase to the lower levels of the house—before his father made us leave.

In front of the doorway was a map of the village and the villages nearby. I lifted the map and opened the door behind it, looking down at the dimly lit spiral stone stairs ahead of me.

“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Eda hissed. I waited for her before starting down the stairs.

“Since when have you been a ‘run first, think later’ type of elf?” Eda asked, staying a step behind me.

“Bracken nearly killed my soulmate, and he might die now. I’m not waiting around for that to happen before I can say goodbye,” I whispered. “Or even get to introduce him to my family.”

We faced a long corridor, with about a dozen barred cells on either side—they seemed small from the outside. I ran forward, to where I saw another staircase, running passed the green flames from the lanterns hanging on the wall—one one colour dragons can’t see. I heard Eda race after me.

We worked our way down the spiral staircase and rushed passed more cells. Those were bigger than the ones on the previous floor.

I dashed down the last staircase and was met with the fresh smell of blood. I gagged and forced myself to keep going. At the end, I could make out a large shape lying on the ground in a huge cell. There were four others on this floor.

“Ugauc!” I called, running up to the bars. He was in his beast form, held down by chains that were bolted to the ground. There were several cuts on his neck, back and wings, all of which were oozing with navy blood. His breathing was shallow and raspy.

“Oh! Ugauc!” I fell to my knees and pressed my head against the bars. I reached through the bars and touched the rough scales of his snout. “I’m so sorry.”

A gurgle came from him. It was very different to his shallow breathing and raspy breath. His amber eyes slowly peeled open. I smiled sadly at him and he released an aching whine.

Eda came up to the bars. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not locked.” She slid the latch open. I got to my feet and followed Eda into the cell.

Eda went to rummage around for the key to remove the bolts from the ground so we could remove the chains. I grabbed the hunting knife from my belt and cut the rope tied around Ugauc’s snout.

“Just hang in there!” I whispered to Ugauc. Eda went around and removed the bolts from the cell floor.

But then I heard something. Footsteps. Echoing footsteps that were getting closer.

I whipped my head around and got to my feet.

“It’s probably Papa,” Eda said, removing the last bolt from the ground. “He figured we might need some help getting Ugauc out of here.”

I looked from the spiral staircase, to her, to the staircase again. And sure enough, Papa came into view, running down towards us.

“How fairs the escape plan?” He asked, stopping in front of the cave.

“So far it’s going alright,” I responded.

Papa looked down at Ugauc. He slowly blinked back up at Papa.

Papa got down on one knee and looked at Ugauc. “Can you move?” He asked.

I... don’t think so... Ugauc said, exhausted of all his strength.

“He doesn’t think he can,” I repeated.

“Can you change to your other form?”

Ugauc breathed deeply and was wrapped in a cocoon of light. His human form knelt before us, leaning on his arms. His trousers were now shorter, ending above the knee from being on him when he was in his beast form. I knelt beside him and cupped his cheeks, placing a kiss on his forehead. He had wounds where the arrows had been embedded and he had several bruises on his abdomen.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Papa said, taking Ugauc under the arm and supporting him as we left for home.

*-*-*-*

I ran my hand through Ugauc’s hair as he slept on the living room couch. It was early the next morning—the day after Bracken had attacked us.

After we had gotten Ugauc home, we ransacked the leader’s home. To make it look like he had escaped or that the other ‘dragon’ had helped him.

I rested my arm on his chest and nestled my head on my arm and listened to his breathing. It wasn’t as shallow as it had been the night before. Eldrin had restored some of his strength so he could make it through the night... but it took a heavy toll on Eldrin—he almost passed out last night after performing the spell.

I looked out the lounge window behind the couch as the first few rays of sunlight shone through the trees onto the street outside. I yawned and relaxed my head back on my arm. I had slept very little during the night, worried that Ugauc might have forgotten where he was or what had happened, and so I slept in the living room.

I heard the floorboards creak behind me. I swung my head around.

Papa stood at the bottom of the stairs, stretching.

I turned my head back around, watching Ugauc again.

“How long have you been down here?” Papa asked, making his way over to me.

“A few hours,” I replied drowsily.

“In other words; you’ve been awake all night.”

I looked down at Ugauc.

Papa sat down beside me. “I understand that you care about him, but it’s not safe for either of you if he stays nearby.”

“I know. But I care about him too much to see him walk away... I don’t think I could ever be happy if I was away from him.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I think—I think maybe we should leave... I’d have to talk to Ugauc first, but I think it’s our only option.”

*-*-*-*

Ugauc entered his cave, the leafy vines brushing against his bare chest, shoulders and wings. I could smell Elven blood on him and I could see some stains splattered on to his new brown trousers.

“Ugauc... what have you done?” I eyed him suspiciously. He had healed quickly since they imprisoned him; it had only been a few days since we had hid him in our home.

“I’ve dealt with Bracken,” He replied smugly. I felt my stomach twist into a knot.

“I wasn’t the only one who ‘dealt with him’,” he said defensively, seeing my expression. Eda, Eldrin, Mama and Papa entered the cave. I could see that Mama was ringing her hand and that Eda’s sword had some red droplet stains on it.

“Oh no,” I breathed.

“He’ll be fine, (Y/N),” Mama reassured.

“He just won’t be able to join the hunting squad, ever(i),” Eda added. Ugauc smirked at Eda. She smiled back.

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered. I glanced to the rucksack beside me.

This is probably the last time I’m ever going to see them. I thought to myself.

Mama came up to me first and wrapped her arms around me. I sunk into her hold. Papa joined next, and then my siblings.

I felt a lump form in my throat. “I’ll miss you all so much,” I forced out.

“I’m sure you’ll be much too busy to even think about us,” Eda said as we released each other.

I wiped away a tear and smiled.

“But you can come home whenever you want,” Mama said, kissing my brow.

“As long as you don’t bring trouble with you,” Papa added.

I laughed through my sadness. “I’ll try not to.”

Eldrin looked to the vines in the cave's mouth. “You should get going soon before Bracken’s father comes after Ugauc; no one can misjudge claw-marks.”

Ugauc scratched the back of his neck nervously.

I smiled and nodded. “Thank you for everything,” I said to my family. Ugauc came closer to us.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for what you have done. Thank you,” he said with a bow.

“Just keep, (Y/N) safe and that will be enough,” Papa said. Eda reached for her sword falsely, threateningly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ugauc replied with a nervous laugh.

I smiled; at least my family knew where I would be and that I was safe. Ugauc and I planned on heading south, to a warmer climate so we could try some of those exotic fruits we had talked about.

I looked to Ugauc and with a quiet nod; we turned around, grabbed my rucksack and left the cave. We walked for a long while before Ugauc asked, “Have you ever tried flying?”

#dragon one shots #dragon one shot #dragon one-shots #dragon one-shot #Ugauc #ugauc x reader #bxb #mlm #DOS #my babies are leaving the nest ;w;

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psycho-slytherin · 5 years

Text

Last words

You go undercover and encounter the last thing you’d expect as an assassin– competition.

Pairing: Spy!Jungkook x Assassin!Reader

Genre: Angst, idiots to idiots 

Warnings: Strong language, violence, murder 

WC: kill me 8.9k 

|mlist|

“Please let me go. Please! I have a family! My husband, my daughters…” tears stream down your target’s face as he struggles with his restraints.

“Your family isn’t paying me,” you reply, finger twitching on the trigger. Why is he trying to evoke sympathy? You don’t do sympathy, and you certainly don’t let targets go.

“I-If it’s money you want, I’ll pay!”

You lower the muzzle. “How much?”

“Uh, twenty thousand? Please, just spare me!”

You suck on your teeth, raising the gun again. “No can do, they’re paying me more.” Maybe if he’d suggested an offer worth considering, you’d take longer to think about it. As it is...

“Wait-” But the man is cut off when you pull the trigger, and a neat hole appears in his head. His lifeless body slumps forward, but given that he was already on his knees he doesn’t have far to fall. The range was close enough that your bullet went right through him, and you pick it up with gloved hands. It’s always a good idea to collect whatever evidence you can.

People seem to think that a person’s last words are thoughtful, deep, artistic. You’ve been present for a lot of last words, and they’re rarely beautiful. Usually wait or no or fuck you. There’s little glamour in your line of work– unless your clients pay extra.

You pad downstairs. The old warehouse you brought him to is scheduled to be demolished in five hours. Another clean hit, and some good commission.

~~~ Three weeks later

“What’ve you got for me?”

You can hear AD typing quickly over the phone. “You’re in luck. Where are you?” Code for new assignment. Are you alone?

“I’m safe.” You’re staying at a farmhouse, far from civilization as you wait for your next hit. No cameras, no mics, no company.

“Alright, name’s Bang Si-Hyuk, he goes by ‘Hitman’ Bang ‘cause he plays dirty with his guards. He hires killers-turned-security, and he’s always surrounded. The man’s got half the underground– and way too many politicians– in his pocket.”

“Dude. Are you giving me an assignment or a goddamn death sentence?”

“It’s a forty-five thousand dollar job. What are you gonna say to that?”

You whistle. Your assignments usually range from fifteen to thirty thousand– above forty is halfway to ridiculous. “Yes sir.”

AD chuckles. “That’s what I thought. We’re gonna send an anonymous death threat his way so he starts hiring again– you’re playing bodyguard, got it?”

“I got it. Rough-and-tumble.”

“Yep. Your character is basically gonna be you, but lamer. We’ve got documents and ID waiting for you at the drop location. Your interview is this Friday, dress code is mean. I’m sending all the info to your phone.”

“Sounds good. How long will this take me?”

“However long it takes for you to get close to Hitman. Y/n, be careful, okay? You’re gonna be surrounded by a lot of professionals with your background. You have to confirm Hitman was your kill, so don’t let anyone get to him first. And you can’t afford to let your cover slip.”

You scoff. “When have I ever let my cover slip, AD?”

“Just take care. If you get hurt, I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces, figuratively or otherwise.”

~~~ Friday

“Next!”

You stand and stalk into the gym. It’s empty, save for two men sitting behind a desk and a gigantic guy in the boxing ring.

“Name?”

“Kang Soo-Jin.”

“Yeah, we got her,” one of the men says, shuffling some papers. “I thought she’d be bigger.”

“I thought she’d be a man. So, Kang,” the first man looks you up and down from over sunglasses. “What’ve you got?”

“I was a killer-for-hire for five years,” you recite in a bored voice. You’re using enough of your real life to ensure your character’s authenticity, but not so much that they’ll recognize your reputation. “Forty confirmed kills. Turned to security after a jail scare. I’m fluent in six languages, and I can bullshit my way through four more. Trained in multiple martial arts– fighting dirty’s more fun, though– and ‘bout every weapon I could get my hands on. I’m educated enough to talk smarts and lived on the streets enough to talk shit. What else you wanna know?” Technically your kill count is sixty-two, but you’re supposed to have retired from the life you’re leading now. Like AD said– yourself, but lamer.

Sunglasses flips through your profile. “Can you fight in that outfit?”

You’re wearing black boots, sweatpants, and a longsleeve with a leather jacket. Gotta look the part, and the dress code was mean. “Better than anyone.”

“You’re confident, girlie. Prove it. Get into the ring.”

Thanks to AD, you knew this would be part of the interview. You’re not worried– you’ve been fighting men bigger and stronger than you since you were a kid.

“Are you armed?” Sunglasses asks as you shrug off your jacket.

“Is that a trick question?”

“Very funny, girlie. This is hand-to-hand only. No guns, no knives. No tasers or other bullshit.”

In view of the three men, you remove two handguns from their hidden holsters and a knife from a sheath on your hip. You’ve got another knife on your thigh, but they don’t need to know about that. You slip into the ring, stretching your arms above your head to loosen up.

“Alright, Kang, let’s see what you can do. No killing, try not to break any bones– besides that, fuck shit up.” Sunglasses signals, and the giant in the ring stomps towards you.

He’s big and strong. You’re small and fast, and unarmed.

“If you can’t win, run. If you can’t run, hide. If you can’t hide, fight. If you can’t fight, lie.” Such is the assassin’s motto.

Wasting no time, the giant swings a fist at you. You jump backwards, ducking and weaving around an onslaught of blows. This guy is trained, well enough that you can’t afford to slip up. Still, you’re not one to go all-out unless you need to; you need to fight just well enough to get hired, and badly enough that you can take your employers by surprise if you must.

The next time he throws out a hook, you duck and roll forward, ending up behind him. He turns around, shifting his weight onto one foot as he steps, and that’s your chance. You swing your leg down and around, connecting solidly with the back of his knee.

“Ugh!” With a grunt, he falls forward. Like any trained fighter would, though, he begins to rise right away. You know grappling is a big no-no for opponents bigger than you, but he’s right there, and given that you’re not allowed to put a blade in his back, it might be the quickest way of ending this performance. In the split second before he’s standing, you leap onto his back, scrambling until you’re sitting on his shoulders. You have to move fast– if you can’t neutralize him quickly, he can just fall backwards and pin you down, or grab your legs and launch you forward. You lock your legs around the giant’s neck and squeeze– it’s what you’ve nicknamed the Romanov chokehold, given how much the Avenger utilizes this inconvenient move.

The giant gasps for air, punching and slapping at your legs. You hiss, withstanding the blows of a struggling man. You can feel his strikes growing weaker as you keep up the pressure, squeezing your thighs tighter around his throat.

Are you actually going to win a fight with the Romanov chokehold? You’re gonna owe AD fifty bucks, dammit.

Suddenly, you feel the man’s arms snake upwards and grab your hands, which were locked under his chin. He pulls hard, yanking you off– you land flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you. You can hear Sunglasses and the other man chuckling. Ugh. You don’t like embarrassing yourself, but whatever it takes to convince them you’re not a threat.

If you can’t fight, lie.

You get up, chuckling ignoring your aching back. “Nice. I bet you win all your fights this easy, huh?”

The giant raises his fists, tensed, on guard. “You ain’t distractin’ me, girl.”

“Who says I’m trying to distract you?” You throw a quick punch, aiming right for the center of his face. Conventional deflections mean that he’ll parry to one side or the other. Lucky for you, he’s conventionally trained. As your fist glances off his block, you use the movement to grab his ear and pinch his earlobe between your nails. You’ve got a lot of experience with which body parts can withstand the most pain before there’s a protective reflex. Earlobes have one of the lowest thresholds, which means...

“Ah! What the fuck?” He claps his hand over his ear, forcing you to let go. Perfect. He’s right where you need him. With his arms raised to protect his sensitive ears, you have a chance to lunge forward. He might think you’re going for his eyes or throat, but you have another goal in mind.

You open your mouth and bite down hard on his bicep, your canines grinding together as though trying to meet through his flesh. You know from your training, and from personal experience, that biting this particular bit of skin and muscle hurts like a bitch. The giant roars in pain and stumbles in an attempt to pry you off of him, and you use his imbalance to grab his shirt and pull him backwards. He lands with a resounding THUD and, teeth still digging into his arm, you press your elbow into his throat, cutting off circulation for the few precious seconds that you need...to...win. As soon as his eyes flutter closed and his head falls back, you release your hold.

You climb out of the ring to see Sunglasses and the other man staring at you.

“I broke skin, you’re gonna want to make sure he gets that disinfected,” you supply, reaching for your jacket.

“You… you pinched and bit him. What kind of fighter are you?” Sunglasses scratches his head, his voice revealing disbelief.

“The kind that does what she has to do. You told me not to break bones or kill. All I did was fuck shit up.”

Sunglasses whistles. “Welcome to the team, Kang. You’ve got the job.”

~~~ Monday

You’re dressed in your new uniform. Sunglasses, whose name you’ve learned is Agent Jung, introduces you to “the team”: Agents Kim, Kim, and Kim; Agent Park; and Agent Jeon. Of course you’re the only woman on a seven-person team. In your line of work, that’s not uncommon.

“I’m in charge around here. That means I say jump, y’all ask how high, got it? Aight. Here’s the deal– three guards will be present with Mr. Bang at all times,” Agent Jung says. “The other four of you will be split into pairs to patrol the area. Six-hour shifts, and you will work two shifts per day. Agents Kim Taehyung, Park, and myself will take the first shift with Mr. Bang. Agents Kim Seokjin and Namjoon, take the east half of the estate. Agents Jeon and Kang, the west half. Stick together so nothing goes wrong. Meet back here in six hours to exchange posts. Dismissed.”

Dammit, how easy would it have been if you had the first shift with Hitman? It’s fine, you’ll just play along as a good guard until you can get closer to your target.

You follow Jeon through the labyrinth of a house, which seems more like a castle. Where is this guy getting his money?

“Okay,” Agent Jeon says, stopping suddenly. “Let’s split up.”

What? “Jung said not to.”

Jeon folds his arms, raising a brow. “And you’re going to obey?”

You exhale sharply. “I’m going to do the job I was hired to do.” Splitting up and disobeying on your first day will cast you under scrutiny and suspicion. You have to play the good girl for now.

“Whatever,” Jeon chuckles. “I’m going.”

“Really, dude? You’re gonna get me in trouble. At least wait for a shift when we’re not paired together.”

“Why should I care about a girl who can’t even fight?” Oy vey. Is he provoking you on purpose? “I can fight fine, man.”

“Prove it.”

Why is he challenging you? What is with him? “We’re on duty,” you snap. “Quit slacking off and let’s do the work we’re paid for.”

Jeon whistles. “Feisty.”

“Shove it up your ass, Agent. I don’t need another man telling me I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“Oh, so I’m just one in a long list of shitheads, huh?” Jeon leans against the wall. You remain standing straight up– you don’t know the last time you’ve let down your guard.

“You wouldn’t make top twenty,” you reply.

“Yeesh. I get the message. Well, since we’re gonna be stuck together for a while…” Jeon sticks out his hand. “Call me Jungkook.”

Unexpected. But okay. “I’m Soo-Jin. Are you new, too?”

“I’ve been here about a month. The longer you’ve been here, the more they trust you as one of the boss’s personal guards. Trust me, you’re gonna be stuck on perimeter patrol for a while,” Jungkook says, as though he knows what you’re thinking.

Dammit. This job is going to cost more time than you were hoping. Still, 45k, 45k, eye on the prize.

“So, six hours. Do we talk, or…?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not if you’re going to keep on with the misogynistic digs.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Sorry about that,” Jungkook says, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll be less of an asshole, promise.”

You smirk, turning to scan the halls. “It’s so empty.” Two cameras on the eastern wall. A big mirror at the end of the hall– is it a two-way mirror? Probably. The ceiling is well supported by strong beams. You could probably escape to the roof if you needed to, but how much of an escape is that?

“So what’s your thing?” Jungkook asks suddenly, snapping you out of your stupor.

“What d’you mean?”

“I heard you’re an ex-assassin, and like, all of the best have a thing. Did you mark your bullets?” Jungkook taps his gun. “Were you a Robin Hood? Did you kiss all your victims?”

“Gross, man!” You laugh. Clearly the only experience he’s had with your line of work is through movies. Why’s this puppy working for Hitman? “No, I never kissed a dead body. Never stole from the rich and gave to the poor, unless the poor was yours truly and the rich were stubborn clients. And marking bullets messes with the aerodynamics.” You’re worried that you’re being too honest, telling him about your life– what if he’s an undercover cop? But Hitman’s men were double- and triple-checking applications, according to AD. Besides, Hitman has every police department in the area feeding from his hand.

“So what was your thing then? Did you have a signature?” In Jeon’s eyes you can see the excitement of a child.

“The best signature for someone like me is the lack of a signature. And what’s got you so happy?” You ask amusedly.

“Oh, I mean…” And Jeon’s voice has dropped again to that of a seasoned guard. “I grew up thinking I’d be a cop. Circumstances didn’t work out, and I landed myself a security job. I always wanted to do what you did, though. Never had the guts for it.”

“Trust me, it’s nothing to be jealous of.” You think of cold evenings on rooftops, unnerving undercover work, hopeless spirals with the monster in the mirror. “It means a lot of lonely nights.”

“Well, you won’t be so lonely anymore,” Jungkook says, before turning red. “Wait- that came out wrong. I’m not hitting on you, I swear!”

“Good, ‘cause you’d be doing a terrible job.”

“I’m a great flirt when I want to be,” he replies, his tone dramatic.

You snicker. “I’d take a page out of your book and ask you to prove it, but I’d hate to watch you embarrass yourself in front of a pretty girl.”

Jungkook whistles. “Did you just insult me and compliment yourself in the same sentence? It looks like I’ve met my match.”

Oof, cute and funny. And he hasn’t called you “girlie” once. You’d better end this before you let yourself get too carried away. It’s just a job, and he’s just an obstacle between you and your 45,000-dollar target.

“It looks like you’re slacking on the job, Jeon.” You’ve reached the end of the hall, and so you spin on your heel and begin marching back the way you came, scanning your surroundings. If another assassin got to Hitman first, your prize money and reputation would go down the drain. Play the character, don’t be suspicious, and don’t get attached.

“Sheesh, don’t be so uptight,” Jeon says, hurrying after you.

“Whatever, let’s just patrol.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jeon replies sarcastically.

The rest of the shift is spent in relative silence. After several hours, you and Jungkook head back to the main room to meet with the other agents. This transition period might be the best time for you to strike, you’ll have to mention that to AD.

The next shift is your break, and after commenting about how tired you are, you head ‘home’. That is, you drop your things at a safehouse, along with any identification, and change into civilian clothing: baggy, boring, anonymous. You fit your earpiece in and contact AD.

“Y/n?”

“AD, hi. I’m gonna scout the perimeter of the estate now, alright?”

“Keep me posted, I’ll be on the line.”

“Yep.”

It’s well past midnight when you arrive at the estate again. You always spend the first night on an undercover job toeing the property line, so to speak.

“It’s like robbing a bank,” you murmur as the house comes into view. “Only harder, ‘cause at least in a bank the only armed murderer is me.”

“Eyes on the prize, y/n.”

“Yeah, whatever. Cameras on the southern and eastern walls. The gate’s heavy– I could climb it, but…”

“Hitman got one of the best security firms in the country to rig it, that shit’s electric.”

“Right. The grass is soft, not a great sign… maybe if I wore the work shoes they gave me? I’m leaving footprints either way.”

“Those shoes are your size, and it’s not amateur hour ‘round here. Did you manage to get the WiFi?”

“They didn’t give it to us. But there’s a network called ‘Bang 5G’ so at least you know it’s there– hey!”

“Y/n? What’s going-” you don’t hear him, you’re too busy sprinting after a black-clad figure. With gloved hands, the person gets a grip and vaults clean over the gate, landing on their feet on the grass beyond.

“AD, someone just scaled the electrified fucking gate,” you pant. Even with gloves, that’s crazy.

“Go after them! You can’t let someone get to Hitman first.”

“How do I get over the gate?”

“I’m not the legendary assassin with sixty-two confirmed kills! Figure it out!”

“Dick.” You look around wildly– the gates are connected at the corners of the estate by brick pillars. Good. That’s something. You run at the pillar closest to you and leap, scrambling up and over it using only the power of adrenaline and your poor fingertips. You land hard, sinking into the soft grass of the lawn, and look up in time to see the figure running along the edge of the roof. How did he get up there? And where’s his climbing gear? The walls are smooth, vertical, with no handholds to speak of on the lower fifteen feet.

If you can’t get up, bring them down. You withdraw your handgun and line up your shot. You might not be an acrobat, but you can shoot.

You pull the trigger, the bringer of death a familiar weight in your hands. You don’t kill unless you’re paid for it, though. The bullet grazes your target and you see them stumble, clutching their side. With one backwards glance at you, they catapult themselves off the roof and land on their feet on the other side of the gate. What the fuck. What kind of strength does this person have?

“Y/n? I heard a shot, what’s going on?” AD speaks urgently into your ear.

“Abort.”

“What?”

You start running back to the gate. “Fucking abort, AD. We’re done for tonight. Someone else is after Hitman.” You launch yourself at the brick pillar and land hard on the sidewalk outside the estate.

“Shit. But we knew this could happen, he’s not exactly popular.”

“Fine, but tonight was supposed to be a casing night. My footprints are on the grass!”

You hear AD mutter something like “amateur” as he types. “Did you get caught on camera?”

“Probably? I also shot a guy, if that’s relevant.”

“It’s really not. Okay, I’m gonna hack into their system– which would be easier with the WiFi password, by the way– and keep you off the footage. Your excuse for your next shift is up to you. Take a couple hours and sleep it off, y/n. It’s not like you to be this reckless.”

“Fuck you.”

~~~ Six hours later

“Agent Jeon, Agent Kang, take the east wing of the estate. Dismissed.”

“C’mon, this way.” Jungkook leads you down a long corridor as you begin your next shift.

“Right.”

“Hey, you okay?” Jungkook looks at you with concern. “You seem tired.”

“Six hours of sleep will do that to a person, dude.” Six? Try three, if you got any at all. You’re exhausted, yeah, but you’ve never let that stop you from doing your job.

“Heh, yeah. This work schedule is intense, but the pay is good.”

“And not much seems to happen, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs, then seems to wince. “Not since I’ve worked here. We get trespassers sometimes, but they just leave when we tell them to.”

“You okay?”

Jungkook looks at the floor. “Yeah, turns out I fell asleep on top of my dog’s toy. The only time I get to sleep, and I wake up hurting like a bitch. How’s that for unfair?”

“Aw, poor baby.”

Jungkook pushes you playfully. “Hey!”

The contact sets your nerves on edge. Danger. You grab his outstretched arm and twist it behind his back, pressing hard enough to almost dislocate his shoulder, your vision is cloudy, tinged red–

“Ow! Kang– fuck! Soo-Jin!”

You blink once, twice. What… what are you doing? You release your hold on Jungkook; did you really just break character like that? No, wait, you can make this work. “I’m sorry– ah, shit.” You step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Jungkook groans, rubbing his shoulder. “What was that?”

“Just an instinct. One of the leftovers from the person I used to be.” You avert your gaze, your body language ashamed. Jungkook seems to take the bait. But… how much can it count as bait, if it’s so true it hurts?

“Hey, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have startled you.” He flashes you a grin, and you feel your heart do something funny in your chest. “I can’t imagine the stuff you’ve been through.”

Why is he acting sympathetic? You don’t do sympathy. But yeah, getting closer to the other guards can’t hurt on a mission like this. You’re in this for the long haul, if last night’s acrobat doesn’t get to Hitman first.

“We’ve all got our own shit to deal with,” you reply.

“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…” Jungkook shrugs, wincing again. “Goddamn Gureum, leaving his toy on my bed.”

You laugh. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I don’t think therapy will add to my intimidation resume.”

The hours pass quicker once you allow yourself to talk to Jungkook more. You know he has to be cold-blooded, and a skilled fighter, if he landed the job. But every time he laughs, every time he stares out into space and seems to forget even to breathe, you wonder where he hides his bloodlust.

“Damn, I never knew an assassin could have a sense of humor,” Jungkook says eventually. “None of the other agents here ever want to do anything except patrol.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you say dryly, rolling your eyes. “That is our job.”

Jungkook sweeps his arm grandly, displaying the estate. It’s empty, save several guards. “Ah yes, look at the multitude of threats we face.”

You think of the acrobat from last night. “Right.”

“Anyways, wanna fight?”

For a second you think you’ve misheard him. “Excuse me? Haven’t we been over this?”

Jungkook shifts his weight, cracking his knuckles. “I heard you bit your way to a win during your interview.”

“So what?”

“I want to see your fighting style– c’mon, how does a professional assassin take someone out with teeth and claws? You’re not a cat, there’s gotta be something else to you.”

“I hate to break it to you, but there wasn’t a lot of close combat in my work. A good assassin never fights fair. And, if you haven’t noticed…” you step up close to him, your eyes only level with his collarbone. You’re so close you can hear his breathing become ragged, shallow, as you continue: “I’m small. Shooting from a distance, backstabbing, incapacitating my targets– that’s what people like me do.”

In truth, you’ve had your fair share of combat. But letting Jungkook see that side of you? Not a good idea.

“Then why quit?”

“What?”

“I get it– you’re an assassin, not a fighter. But why go into security?”

“I almost got caught,” you recite automatically. “My skills aren’t super transferrable– I didn’t have a lot of options.”

“Speak for yourself, I think you’d make a great birthday clown,” Jungkook laughs, and you smile along with him. Too bad he doesn’t know the real you– or maybe it’s a good thing. No one could love a monster.

You knew what you were getting into when you started down your path. You accepted that you’d be a changed woman– what you didn’t know was that your eyes wouldn’t be the same as they were before. Each time you see yourself anew, you confront the humanity that’s drained from your face. Your eyes have begun to resemble your targets’– dull, unfeeling, dead.

You’re a monster. A killer. You snuff out lives for money. There’s no going back to the girl you were, and no point in regret. And so each morning, you take a deep breath and lie. To yourself, AD, and everyone. It’s okay. I’m okay.

Fuck, maybe you should see a therapist.

After your shift, you spend the next six hours staking out Hitman’s estate. The acrobat doesn’t return, and you grind your teeth together with anxiety. “AD, did you see him on the footage that you hacked?”

“Just the mask. His body language is right-hand and left-leg dominant. This guy’s training is super unconventional; I haven’t seen that climbing style anywhere.”

“Ugh, so weird.”

“Says you.”

“Shut up, asshat.”

AD sniggers. “Look, you did shoot this guy today. Have you considered that you’ve either, like, injured him badly or scared him off?”

“No. He’s still around, and he’s going to try again.”

“How do you know?”

Because he’s like me. “I just do.”

You can almost hear AD’s shrug. “Aight, trust your instincts. Your next shift is soon, though. Better get ready.”

You groan. “This work schedule is brutal.”

“And you’re spending your time off stalking a ghost. Are you planning on getting any sleep?”

You hesitate a second too long. “Yes.”

AD sighs. “Take care of yourself, idiot. You can’t guard the house 24/7. You’re spending half the day working, remember?”

“That’s what I’ve got you for. Keep an eye on the cameras.”

“Get me the Wi-Fi password and I’ll think about it.”

You roll your eyes before heading back to your safehouse, changing, and returning for your shift. Here we go.

And there you went. The next week passes much in the same fashion– patrolling the wings of the vast estate for six or twelve hours, sleeping the bare minimum you need to survive, and returning to your target’s house to make sure the mystery acrobat doesn’t get to Hitman first.

You spend most of your patrol time with Jungkook; it makes sense, you’re the two newest recruits. For a security goon, he’s pretty funny. You’ve dealt with security guards in the past for your jobs, but most of your interactions involved them trying to kill you– or vice versa. For all that you’re undercover as Kang Soo-Jin, you’re actually enjoying spending time with Agent Jeon Jungkook.

“Why are you working for Mr. Bang?” You ask him on Monday morning. You haven’t spoken with Jungkook in a couple days, as you were paired with Agent Park for your last several shifts.

Jungkook cocks his head as you stroll together along the west side of the estate, a route you’ve already committed to memory. “What do you mean?”

It’s been bothering you for a while. “Mr. Bang tends to hire killers, mercenaries, people like… well, me. Why did you take this job?”

Jungkook chews on his lip thoughtfully as he stares out of the window. “I mean… the pay is good.”

You shove him playfully. “C’mon, man, there’s gotta be something else.”

“Alright, alright!” Jungkook raises his arms in surrender, laughing. “You know I wanted to be an assassin. I was too chicken, and never knew how to get started. When I heard about Mr. Bang, and his reputation, I applied because I wanted to meet people like you. I told Agent Jung I had lots of experience and loose morals, and bada-bing-bada-boom, I get hired.” He does what you assume would have been jazz hands, if not for the gun held tightly in his grip.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re such an idiot,” you snort. “When most people try to meet their idols, they go to concerts, not to a den of killers.”

“What can I say? It’s one of my many charms,” Jungkook replies, winking. Your heart does another thing in your chest. It reminds you of the feeling of jumping into a cold lake– as though your whole body has come alive.

You hope that once you carry out your mission, you won’t have to hurt Agent Jeon along the way.

“Hey, so…” Jungkook asks after several minutes of patrolling in silence. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“Huh?” For a second, you think you’ve misheard him. “You mean in the twelve hours until I have to be back?” You pulled a double shift– it’s nearing noon, and you’ve been working since midnight.

“Dummy, we don’t have work this weekend,” Jungkook says. “Mr. Bang is going on a business trip. Weren’t you paying attention during the briefing?”

Not even a little were you paying attention– you were too focused on escape routes. You might be able to drug his food? “Sweet.” And you mean it: With Hitman gone, you can catch up on sleep and plotting without having to worry about your competition.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out– y’know, outside of work? I really want to get to know you better.”

“Uh…” Huh? This isn’t part of your plan. You don’t hang out with targets during a mission. So you should say no, right? But… what harm can come from spending time with your coworker? After all, you are undercover. And if Hitman is leaving for the weekend…

You realize you’ve been silent too long when Jungkook begins to backtrack: “I mean- Soo-Jin, sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply– you know what, never mind-”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Wait, what?”

You allow your lips to curl upward into a smile. “Sure, why not?” There’s no way it can endanger your mission.

“Awesome!” Jungkook returns your grin enthusiastically, and for the rest of the shift he walks with a spring in his step. It would be endearing, if your heart weren’t frozen and locked in your chest. “Maybe we can do lunch or something. Is tomorrow okay? Do you want me to pick you up at your place?”

“No, that’s okay,” You say hurriedly. Definitely not, no one can know the location of the safehouse. “Lunch tomorrow sounds good, we can meet there.”

“Ah- okay, yeah.”

As your shift comes to an end and the guards reconvene, Agent Jung calls you to attention. “Aight, everyone. As you know, Mr. Bang will be going to the city tomorrow morning for a business meeting– the organization is providing its own security forces, so your services are unnecessary until Monday at 6am sharp. Understood?” “Yes sir!”

Tomorrow morning? Wait, that means you might have a chance to strike in the few hours before he leaves. You know the best time to strike any target is during a period of transition. While everyone is hurried, packing and organizing, Hitman will have his guard down.

Once you’re changed, you head out the door. Jungkook catches your eye and waves, and you feel your face heat up as you offer a cheeky salute in response. It’s not you’re fault, that toothy grin is so contagious.

Once you’re safely holed up at your base–

“AD, you there?”

“Sure am. What’s up?”

You walk calmly around the safehouse, marking things off your mental checklist. “I’m gonna go for it tonight.”

“Damn, that was fast. What’s going on?”

“We know the location of cameras and the guards’ schedules. Just cause I haven’t met the guy in person doesn’t make this too fast.” Ammo, rifle, scope, suppressor, stand– check. “He’s going on a business trip in the morning, and once he steps out of the house, that’s gonna be my best bet. Besides, now that I’m sure there’s someone else after Hitman, I gotta get to him first.”

“Sounds great. Where do I come in?”

“Can you get me satellite images of my cover options within, say, a kilometer of his door? I tried checking, but his house doesn’t show up on Google Maps. I need a roof where I won’t be interrupted.” You had hoped to pull the infiltrate-eliminate play, but if you have a chance to snipe the Hitman, you’re gonna take it.

“Classic. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll get his schedule too, lemme send that to you.” You hear AD typing quickly on the line. “There’s a car scheduled to pick up Hitman and Agent Jung at 5:30 in the morning.”

You glance at the clock. It’s 1:30 in the afternoon, which means you’ve got sixteen hours to plan your highest-paid killshot of the year.

Your security uniform shines like a beacon, draped over your chair. It’s a shame you won’t be able to make your lunch appointment with Jungkook tomorrow. You’ve got to be out of the city before Hitman’s body is even cold. Maybe in another life, you could have spent more than a week with the man whose company you find yourself enjoying increasingly each day.

“AD, let’s take a bit of a break after this one, okay?”

AD chuckles. “With a 45k job, you can take as long a break as you want. Good luck, y/n.”

You spend the afternoon organizing the hit, with AD’s help.

“Jeez, his security on this trip is a fucking brick wall,” AD groans in frustration. “Y/n, if you don’t make the shot when he’s leaving, you’re not gonna have another chance.”

“Mm.” You’re distracted, measuring the angles from a printout of your rooftop perch. AD secured you entrance to a quiet office building three blocks from Hitman’s estate. You’ll have to set up at the southernmost corner of the roof to have the biggest advantage. You’ll go there around midnight– you don’t want to give Hitman a chance to leave early.

Hours pass, and the clock ticks closer to midnight. “I’m headed out,” you say, hoisting your equipment over your shoulder.

“Cool. I’ve got one of my men on the door to the building– give him the password, and keep your head down. Take the stairs, the elevator is monitored. There’s a fire escape on the roof if you need to get down fast. Good luck, y/n.”

“Thanks.”

You arrive to the building with little trouble, your high-powered rifle concealed in pieces within a worn-out backpack.

You knock three times on the back door to the building, and immediately a man opens the door. “What do you want?” he growls. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Sorry, I’m lost,” you reply calmly. “I’m looking for the post office.”

The man gives you a quick once-over, eyeing your backpack appreciatively. “You can send letters from here,” he says, stepping back to let you in. You nod, pulling your hood lower over your eyes as you make for the stairwell.

Ten stories later, your legs are burning and your shoulders ache from the weight of your weaponry. But at least you’re on the roof, with a perfect view of Hitman’s brilliant estate.

“AD, come in.”

Your earpiece crackles to life. “Wassup?”

“I’m in position,” you reply as you unload your backpack and begin to fit your rifle together. “It’s gonna be quiet for a couple hours. Take a nap, man, you’ve earned it.”

At your words, you hear AD yawn. “Good idea. Talk to you later.”

The line goes dead as you finish setting up the rifle stand, careful to aim it so your bullet will strike Hitman as he leaves the house.

Deep breaths. It’s just another kill, just another target, and more money than you used to make in a year.

You settle in by your rifle for the five-hour wait. The cold bites deep into your bones– but at least it keeps you from dozing off.

Around three in the morning, you’re half present, half floating off into a world of your own creation, when a blur of motion darts across your line of sight. What? What? Something’s going on, what–

You press your eye to the gun’s scope, magnifying your vision. A figure creeping down the block, dressed in all black, their movements strong and familiar– the acrobat is back.

“AD?”

Silence on the line. He must still be asleep. You’ve got a couple hours before Hitman leaves, enough time to get this guy and return to the roof.

Grabbing your handgun and a dagger, you race for the fire escape, skipping steps, practically flying down the stairs. He’s got a headstart on you, but he’s injured. If your earlier bullet hit true– and it always does– too much exertion will reopen his wound. You’re a hyena, stalking your prey, wearing him down until there’s little work left for you to do.

Your target slows to a walk, still a block ahead of you as you reach the sidewalk, closing in on Hitman’s estate. Finally reaching the ground, and with your heart hammering in your chest, you duck behind a parked car and peek out. Has he seen you? You don’t have a mask, just your hoodie. He’s wearing a crude ski mask– covered except for his eyes and mouth. How unprofessional.

He continues walking, his body language relaxed. How can he be relaxed right now? You move from behind the car to the middle of the sidewalk, hiding in plain sight. You jam your hands in your pockets, letting your hair fall in front of your face as adopt a drunken stumble. If you can’t run, hide. You sense your target turn around and spare you a glance. All he’ll see, though, is intoxicated, unthreatening idiot. Your opponent ignores you and keeps walking, his left hand going up to clutch at his side. Bingo.

You continue trailing him, hanging back just far enough to not arouse his suspicion. Once he gets to Hitman’s estate, and to that electrified fence that he can somehow scale, you’re going to lose him.

You need another advantage.

You secret the knife from the sheath on your hip, subtly increasing your pace until you’re about twenty feet away from your target– about the farthest you’ll trust yourself to throw a knife accurately. He’s close, so close…

You whip your arm around and send the knife sailing. It flies through the air, headed right for his midsection, when suddenly… what?

Your target’s arm reaches out almost in slow motion and grabs your dagger by the handle, stopping its flight mere inches from his flesh.

“I haven’t forgotten your other present,” he growls as you close in on him, his voice inhuman. “Leave now. You’re not going to win this fight.”

This bitch…

In your mind, you hear every girlie, every sweetheart, every condescending chuckle. You see the disrespect in a thousand eyes, the endless doors closed in your face. And you snap.

Your body seems to melt into the shadows— you’re made of fire, of darkness. Energy courses through your veins, and you suppress the urge to laugh. It’s been a while since you’ve gone all-out. If you can’t hide, fight.

The acrobat cocks his head. “You’re not running?”

In lieu of a response, you make a show of withdrawing your handgun. On seeing the weapon, the acrobat flashes his own gun, leveling the barrel at you.

What he doesn’t know, you think, running your other hand over the military-grade smoke grenade in your pocket, might hurt him.

The acrobat’s arm twitches, the kind of twitch that’s been burned into your memory. You see the path of the bullet before he pulls the trigger; you drop to the floor, his bullet missing your head by inches. In the same movement, you pull the pin on the grenade and launch it at him. With a loud hiss, thick plumes of smoke begin to pour from the capsule. You hear the acrobat curse. His mask proves to be his downfall: he’s blinded and coughing, although his covered nose means he can still breathe. You don’t have a mask with you, but you do have excellent hearing— and so you drop your gun and charge towards him, your eyes shut tight.

Time seems to slow down. The smoke burns your lungs even though you’re holding your breath, but all you can focus on is your opponent’s heavy footsteps, unsteady and pained. His earlier wound must still be bothering him, which is probably why he’s still on the ground. With his skill set, you’d have scaled the fence and been gone by now.

Wait. The fence. No matter his skills, the guy isn’t immune to electricity. And you’re right in front of Hitman’s estate.

Your lungs protest— you’ve been holding your breath too long. You need to end this quickly, while you still have the advantage of your smoke cover. Your ears pick up a tiny shift in weight in front of you— he’s a smart assassin, he managed to stop coughing. But it’s not enough to save him, not when you’re in your element. You circle around silently until he’s in between you and the fence.

“Come on, man,” your opponent speaks suddenly, his voice distorted. A voice mod? “We can spar later, I got shit to do.”

Fucking asshole. You barrel forward, lowering your shoulder and catching him right in the gut. You hear a metallic skitter; your attack forced him to drop his gun. He’s unarmed.

“Oof!” The acrobat grunts in pain, stumbling backwards even as his gloved hands snake forward to wrap around your throat. Shit. He starts squeezing, and you gasp for air, your tortured lungs protesting further abuse. He’s almost right up against the fence– you just need him to take one...more...step. You can hear his labored breathing right in front of you. He must still be blinded, which means you can take him by surprise. Perfect.

You plant your hands on his shoulders and, instead of pushing him away like he surely expects, you pull him close and press your lips to his, kissing him with all the desperation of a girl with her life on the line. The move is a double-edged sword: if you can’t distract your target sufficiently, you’re close enough to be KO’d. But if you do your job well… it’s practically a given win. Your opponent’s grip on your throat loosens and you feel him relax into the kiss– and return it with fervor, biting lightly on your lower lip. Well, he’s certainly distracted. You use the opportunity to shove him backwards, and with his guard down, he takes that last crucial step to steady himself.

ZZZAP!

You wince at the crackle of electricity. It’s not enough to kill, but that’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker. He collapses without another sound, just as the smoke begins to dissipate.

“Did you hear that?” You hear a shout from inside the estate.

“Someone set off the fence!”

“Well, go check!”

Oh, Christ. You can’t leave your opponent there; his injuries will prove that someone else was with him, they’ll check the footage before AD can edit it. You bend down– grabbing your discarded gun while you’re at it– and pick your opponent up in a fireman’s carry, lugging the dead weight several buildings down and into a back alley. By the time you get there and set him down, you can hear him groan. He’ll be coming to soon. You touch your earpiece to contact AD.

“AD? You awake?” You rasp, your throat still hurting.

AD sounds groggy. “Good morning to you too. Yeah, I’m here.”

“I caught our acrobat.”

“No shit! Is he dead?”

You peer at the groaning, half-conscious figure. “Almost.”

“You’ve got the go-ahead to neutralize him. I’d recommend doing it fast, though.”

“Yeah, I will.” You check the clock: 3:44. This guy’s taken up way too much of your time. Glancing down at your fallen opponent, you see his hand begin to twitch. Let’s see what kind of amateur assassin almost took my kill. You sit on your heels in front of him and reach out, pulling off the ski mask with ease.

“Oh…shit.”

“Y/n?”

“Uh…” sitting in front of you, a trail of scarlet blood dripping down his chin, is Jeon Jungkook. “AD, I’ll call you back.”

“Wait, what’s going-” Click.

You rub your eyes miserably, wishing that the smoke was still blinding you. Jeon Jungkook. Agent Jeon. The dork from work. An assassin?

Then that means… you tug up his shirt, exposing sculpted abs that you wish you didn’t notice along with thick bandages wrapped around his midsection. You can see dark blood seeping through on Jungkook’s left side– where you’d shot him last week, where he said he’d fallen asleep on a dog toy. And like an idiot, like a sentimental amateur, you believed him. You believed that he actually liked you, actually cared. But he’s a liar, a monster like you. The realization that it was all an act hurts more than your bruised throat ever could.

“Ngh…” your heart seems to drop into your stomach. The voice mod must’ve been in his mask, because now you can recognize Jungkook’s groan as the one you’d heard so often during dull shifts. “Hey… hands off the goods.” He swipes weakly at your arm and you pull away, letting his shirt fall back down over the wound that you caused.

Half of you wants to laugh, and the other half wants to… what, cry? Why did it have to be him?

You pull back your hood and tuck your hair behind your ear. “You’re such a fucking idiot, you know that?”

At last, Jungkook’s eyes snap open and he stares straight at you, his face betraying a mix of horror and fury. “Soo-Jin?”

He’s going to die anyways. You might as well tell him the truth. “Actually, my name is y/n.”

“No.” Jungkook gapes, seemingly at a loss for words. “No. Dammit. Fuck! Fucking anyone but you!” He tries to get up, but he doesn’t get very far before he falls back and slumps over, his expression heartbreaking. For once, you can do nothing but watch him. “I knew it was one of the guards,” Jungkook continues, clutching at his wound. “Namjoon has good aim. Jimin, he’s fast. I didn’t want to hurt you, Soo-Jin–” his voice breaks. “Or, I guess, y/n.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you either,” you admit, the gun in your hip holster feeling heavier by the minute. “But I had to do my job.”

“Wait a second…” Jungkook hesitates. “Y/n? As in y/n l/n, the master assassin? Sixty-two confirmed kills? You’re that y/n?”

“You’ve heard of me?”

Jungkook nods as much as his weakened state will allow. “Everyone in the business has. Your aim is unmatched. They say the only time y/n misses a killshot is when she’s trying to miss– oh.” Jungkook smiles sadly. “I’m just postponing the inevitable, huh?

You nod, smoothly withdrawing your gun and pointing it at his head. Sure, midsection is more of a surefire hit, but a headshot will end it quickly– and for the first time in a long, long time, you realize that you care about his suffering.

Jungkook looks up at you, his eyes revealing a softness you can’t understand.

“Y-you’re not scared?” You ask. Why isn’t he trying to escape? If you can’t win, run. It’s the assassin’s motto. But… he’s not running?

Jungkook shrugs, groaning in pain. “I lost. You won. We had the same target, so killing me is your right. Besides, if it had to be anyone…” Jungkook winks. “Might as well be you. Even if you are a dirty liar.”

You draw yourself up, affronted. “Excuse me?”

He laughs and then coughs. “Miss I don’t kiss my victims went and pulled that? Sure, Jan.”

You suppress a giggle. “You’re postponing again. I have to get back to Hitman.”

“Right, sorr-” BANG!

You pull the trigger, the gun so familiar in your hand that it’s like an extension of yourself. And your aim, as always, is perfect.

Jungkook is shaking. He looks up at the black mark where the bullet struck the wall, not half an inch above his head. “Y-y-you missed.”

“I’m y/n l/n,” you reply, holstering your gun. “I never miss.”

“Wait, so you saved–”

“Someone’s gotta fix this bandage, shit,” you interrupt, kneeling down and examining his wound, which has continued slowly bleeding through its dressings. “Goddamn amateurs, I swear, ruining the trade–”

Suddenly, Jungkook reaches out and cups your cheek.

“W-what are you doing?” You squeak, embarrassed. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, so close it feels like you’re the one who’s disarmed.

“Making sure you won't regret sparing me,” Jungkook mutters in response before capturing your lips with his own. You didn’t notice the first time, but he tastes like cherries.

You know you should pull away, a good assassin never lets down her guard, but– “Fuck you,” you mumble against his lips, linking your hands behind his neck. Heat courses through your body as you kiss him back. Maybe, for once... you can just relax. You feel a bit of something hard pass from his mouth to yours. A hard candy? Who cares, you’re kissing him and kissing him and you really like kissing him, fuck.

Eventually Jungkook pulls away, a bright smile on his face. “Look at me, the amateur that tamed the expert.”

“You didn’t tame shit,” you reply, getting up. For a second your vision swims before you. Damned iron deficiency. Checking the time, you start. “I gotta get going.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jungkook responds, standing up. What? His injuries should have kept him down.

“I’ve still got a target to off, hon.” You salute him, your head aching. You wish you could spend more time with him, but it’s not your path. You’ve got a job to do.

“I said,” Jungkook replies, walking forward. “You’re not going anywhere.” His gait isn’t casual anymore, it’s threatening, and all your instincts are screaming danger.

“Or what? Do the math. I’m armed, you’re not. You can’t do anything.”

Jungkook smiles coldly. His eyes– they’re dark, emotionless. The kind of eyes you see in the mirror everyday. The eyes of a killer. “Oh, but I can. And I did.”

“W-what?” Your heart feels weak, and your breathing becomes labored. Your chest is unnaturally tight. “What did you do to me?”

“All the best spies kept cyanide pills in their mouths,” Jungkook replies with a shrug as you fall to your knees, too dizzy to stand. The world is spinning, tilted, and your chest feels like it’s burning. Jungkook leans down, his tone malicious. “And I’m one of the best. After all, I killed y/n l/n, didn’t I?”

Cyanide. Poison. How can you fight against poison?

Jungkook is still talking. “If you can’t win, run, right? Guess what, girlie? Guess why I didn’t run?”

You can’t breathe, it feels like you’re drowning, you lost.

“I didn’t run because I could win. And I’ll win again, once Hitman is out of the picture. You’re not the only one with money on the line. Though I have to say, it’s really a shame.” He flicks your forehead, but you can barely feel anything anymore. “You were cute. Oh well, any last words?”

This is it. The end of y/n l/n, master assassin. Your eyes flutter closed– he won. “Fuck you.”

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