Joon's tune

Those who went to the pack meeting with your Family pack haven’t had the chance to share what they learned with the rest of the bonded mates, which allows them to have a better understanding and even more desire to soothe, heal, and support you. However, it was agreed that they would wait until they could guarantee privacy from staff. 

As the silence continues in the living room with their minds occupied, their ears intently focus on you. They can’t hear anything from your den, which indicates that you, like them, are a bit off-center about this meeting, or so they hope. 

After what seems like an eternity, the soft padding of your footfalls finally indicates that you have reached some point in your thoughts that allows you to move and not be frozen. It allows a release of the tension surrounding the bonded mates. As the energy becomes less heightened, Jungkook crawls into Yoongi’s lap with a hand stroking Taehyung’s hair, seeking comfort. The soft exhales from some of them break the silence, along with the rustling of clothes as they relax into their seats. 

“I think,” hesitantly starts Hoseok. “I think we need to do a few things with her. We can’t just keep thinking that she is fully educated on hybrid customs and behaviors like our past playmates because she isn’t. She isn’t educated properly, nor is she a playmate.”

“I also think she needs to learn to love herself more,” frowns Hoseok, his eyes drilling holes into the carpet.

“You noticed that, too? I think her family did an excellent job of crushing any kind of self-awareness or self-love for herself,” Yoongi says with a hint of snarl in his voice. “As her Alphas and her mates, it’s our job to ensure that she not only understands how exquisite she is to us but she also needs to see it with her own eyes.”

Nodding, Hoseok adds, “I think I can help that. I mean with my self-image issues from before, I have a personal perspective on what it’s like to experience that kind of pressure, more or less. Also, maybe in time, I can use some of my shibari skills to help with not only her body image issues but her trust as well.”

A collective hum comes from the pack. It’s been several years since Hoseok fought his demons when it came to his looks. For Seokjin and Namjoon, when those pictures of their mate bound in a mask find their way back into circulation because Army does those ‘glow up’ or 'where they started’ comparison shots on TikTok or Instagram, the feeling of failing to support their mate as the leader and the oldest surfaces.

As Jimin sits more comfortably in Seokjin’s lap, he looks at his mates confidently before offering assistance, saying, “I could teach her about nesting, specifically what it means at the hybrid level with all the differences between a den nest and a pack nest, along with the boundaries and such?”

“That is a good idea, Jimin-ah, but you must be delicate about it because of her past,” warns Hoseok. “You can’t just burst in and take over. I don’t want us to treat her like a kit, but at the same time…”

“Her ideas and thought processes are similar to how you were when you first joined us because you were both raised with misinformation or misguidance on acceptable behaviors,” says Yoongi. “I am not sure why her mother’s side of the family would have even associated her ‘blanket forts’ with a nest, though. I guess it was just too close of a behavior.”

Looking at Jimin, Yoongi continues, “I think she can learn a lot from you and Kook-ah. However, I think that, based on how you were raised, you might connect with her better.”

Unlike Jungkook, Jimin doesn’t necessarily like to discuss his past because it is something that he would very much like to forget. It took him almost a year to share details with his bonded mates. Now, lost in his thoughts, Jimin wonders if he should be upfront and detailed about it with you or just allude to what happened.

Jungkook whines at the thought of being unable to connect with you on a deeper level, prompting Taehyung to push against the bunny hybrid’s hand in his hair, saying, “Don’t worry, Kookie. You already have a connection with Y/n that is stronger than the rest of us. I think you might even have a better connection than Yoongi-hyung does.”

Tilting his head up from Yoongi’s lap, Jungkook peers over the arm of the couch at Jimin and snarkily says, “Speaking of my level of connection with Y/n, apparently it isn’t strong enough to garner an invitation into her nest.”

All eyes look to Jimin with hints of jealousy and curiosity, but mostly envy. Putting on a sly smirk and leaning into the eldest’s hold, the memory of your body tangled with his is still fresh in his mind, causing his scent to spike with sweetness. Jimin curves his body against Jin in a way that he knows will get his mates going, but the soft nip from Seokjin on his shoulder makes Jimin roll his eyes and shake his head, saying, “She had a nightmare about her past and the nest.”

“I had decided to sit on guard outside her door because I wanted to be the first mate she saw when she woke up due to what happened when I stepped on Taehyungie’s tail and ruined your night, Namjoon-hyung,” the red panda explains. “I knew something was… wrong when she had gone to sleep on the window bench, not the nest I made for her.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to reassure the younger, but the slight shake of Seokjin’s head stops him, allowing Jimin to continue, “It hadn’t been long before I heard her softly crying and making pained noises as if she were being attacked. When she didn’t respond to me calling her by name, I entered her den and saw…”

Jimin pauses with a gulp. “I saw her in the tiny ball crying, clutching her stomach and whining. I literally had to shake her awake. She took a moment to realize where she was and who I was, but the next thing I knew, she was in my lap,” recalls Jimin. “She didn’t want to talk about it then but wanted the pack meeting to discuss everything with everyone.”

“While this is all and good to know, it doesn’t explain how you ended up sleeping with her,” flatly says Taehyung, who gets a smack to the back of the head by Yoongi. To which he whines, “well, it doesn’t.”

Giggling at the two, Jimin nods, replying, “You're right. When I asked her why she didn’t sleep in the nest when she returned, she answered that it was too perfect to sleep in. So, I carried, not without her complaining of her weight, over to her nest and put her inside.”

“She seemed still tense and expressed how we are so close that she doesn’t want to ruin anything. I explained that she wouldn't ruin anything because she wasn’t a typical playmate but she still didn’t relax in the nest. It worried me, so I… ah… well, I tested the bond,” Jimin says, trailing off. 

Shifting to look at Jimin better, Seokjin questions, “Jimin-ah, what did you do?”

“Please tell me you didn’t push yourself on her?” Hoseok asks darkly.

“No! I…” Jimin scoffs. “I asked her if I could join her in the nest. I even told her she could say no, but she didn’t. She relaxed almost immediately, even while keeping a respectful distance aside from holding her hand.”

“You didn’t look so respectfully distant when I found you together this morning,” pointed out the eldest.

“I will get to that,” Jimin rushes out with blush-tinted cheeks. “I shared a bit about our past with playmates. I figured it would help her not to feel so vulnerable with me so close, and it worked because when I went to leave, she asked me to stay. After a rather cute and telling discussion of sleeping arrangements, she had me sleep between her and the door for protection, under the blanket for warmth, and facing each other, but she didn’t give a reason.”

Tilting his head, Jimin continues, “I think it was mostly because she doesn’t want to over step but after today that may change. Anyway, she warned she moves alot in her sleep and I am pretty sure that is how we ended up so entangled.”

“She smelled interested when I joked about having to tie her down if she became a human tornado, Hobi-hyung,” Jimin says, wiggling his eyebrows.

With that, Hoseok grabs Jimin’s hand to head up to his den to discuss how to enact their part of the plan and check to see if Hoseok even brought his ropes with him on this trip—only pausing long enough to look to Namjoon for permission to leave the pack meeting. 

Taking in the more relaxed scents of his mates, aside from a spike of nerves and arousal from various makes, Namjoon thinks there isn’t much more that can be done right now. Standing, the Prime Alpha says, “Since Y/n left, I believe the pack meeting can conclude. I encourage everyone to reflect on what was discussed, and if you have a suggestion on how to help or have concerns about anything, you can always reach out to me.”

Seokjin heads to the kitchen to keep busy. Baking is one of the ways he can zone out to process things while still feeling like he hasn’t checked out of being a good mate. Some fresh cookies, non-chocolate, sound like a good idea and can be made on autopilot, or maybe making something for lunch would be good.  Opening the fridge, the eldest Alpha decides to make lunch and cookies while he deals with everything from finding Jimin in your bed to the topics of both meetings. 

Yoongi pulls Jungkook into his lap more, and the two cuddle into a ball. The attentive jaguar hybrid praises the youngest Alpha for being brave and sharing his past with their new mate. Jungkook blushes and buries his face into Yoongi’s neck with his little fluff of a cotton tail wiggling happily. It doesn’t take long for the two to fall into a light nap as they bask in each other’s warmth after the emotionally draining morning. 

Taehyung appears to be deep in thought. The influx of information has affected him more than he outwardly shows. His tail twitches out from under the couch in flicks as his thoughts bounce from one fact to another. He knows that hunting down the ex and the abysmal excuse of a family you have isn’t allowed, but that doesn’t stop him from imagining all the ways he could nor what he would do once he has his claws in them.

Namjoon watches Taehyung with concern etched on his face. After taking in his lack of movement and the warmth of his ebony scent, Namjoon doesn’t think the tiger will do anything, so he leaves him be– for now.  Even though Yoongi is focused on their youngest and napping, Namjoon trusts him to wake up and react if Taehyung’s scent changes. The Prime Alpha also trusts the others to help by reining the quick-tempered tiger in or seeking help if anything arises. With a soft sigh, Namjoon decides this might be a good time to discuss a few more personal things with you.

Making his way to your den, the wolf hybrid strains his hearing to try and pick up your heartbeat and breathing since your stressed-out scent is still lingering in the hall. He leans into his instincts as an apex predator and an Alpha to ensure you are, at least physically, in a good spot to take visitors. Unfortunately, it doesn't let him know if you are emotionally or mentally ready for it.

As he listens to your gentle, measured breaths and your calm, rhythmic heartbeats, Namjoon knocks on the door. The rapid footsteps approaching the door make the Alpha question if you had been expecting someone. When the door swings open, Namjoon offers a friendly smile and adopts what he hopes is an open posture to indicate that his visit has a positive purpose.

“Oh, Namjoon, I wasn’t,” you start to say, seemingly caught off guard that he is the one who came. “I mean, is everything okay? I know I kinda rushed out of there. I didn’t even close the pack meeting, I just more or less bolted which isn’t proper of me. I should know better, I mean, I do know better.”

“Y/n, Angel, everything is good. I think the meeting was a good idea and we covered a lot of… deep topics,” He answers, trying to reassure you. “May I enter your den?”

Jumping slightly and scooting out of the way, you gesture for him to enter, saying, “Of course, how rude of me. Sorry. Umm… you may sit where you wish, Alpha.”

“No need to be sorry. I just wanted to have some…” Namjoon’s voice trails off as he walks in and sees your Jimin-built nest on the bed. He can tell that it’s been used, which gives him a sense of pride because you must find their sense comforting and, hopefully, safe. He knew you slept in it, but seeing it hits differently.  Taking a slow, deep breath, he inhales the scents from the nest. The mixture is much richer since adding your sweetpea, almost as if it had been absent the whole time.

You leave the door slightly ajar and turn to face Namjoon. With a tilted head and raised eyebrow, you ask him, "Some?”

His eyes flick between you and the nest before he smiles. Walking to sit on the window bench, he continues his train of thought, “Some time to speak with you again, minus the flashing lights of the red carpet and the other packmates. That is, if it is okay with you?”

“Sure, I will always try to find time for our Prime Alpha,” you answer, missing the flash of forest green eyes at the subtle but unknowing claim you said. As you pull one of the pillows from the window bench to sit on the floor, Namjoon gently tugs on the other end, his eyes slightly narrowed as he gestures to the space beside him. Smiling shyly, you pause mid-squat and sit beside him on the window bench. 

Turning to face you, the Alpha looks at you in a way that makes you feel like he is looking through you. It is a look you have seen from Derek and Evie when they are trying to figure you out without actually asking you. His breathing is steady and deep, which tells you he is trying to catch how your emotions are by your scent. Luckily for you and him, your scent is soft sweetpea with the undertone of vanilla, showing that you are no longer flustered or anxious from the pack meeting.

“How are you feeling? After the pack meeting?” asks the Prime Alpha, his instincts leading him to ensure he understands your scent's basics. “Your scent seems to be almost neutral. I assume my being in your den is why there is a perfumed edge to your natural sweetpea.”

Sitting up straight, you shake your head, arguing, “No! I don’t have a problem with you being in my room… ah den. I mean, you are the Prime Alpha and it is your packhouse that I am in. So, you have every right to be able to come into this space.”

“Actually, no. That isn’t correct,” frowns Namjoon. “I will say this, and Jimin will get more into the depths of it later: your space is your space. At any time, if you want to be left alone or not to allow any of us to be allowed into your den you have that right.”

Holding your hand between his two larger hands, he looks at you with a serious but warm gaze. “This is every bit your packhouse as it is mine, Yoongi-hyungs, or any of us,” he says, stroking his thumb across your hand. “You have a voice as strong as any of us regarding your comfort, well-being, and needs.”

Your eyes widen at his statement and cause you to shift in your spot. Swallowing, you shyly smile and answer, “Umm… I sort of got that impression. I know myself well enough to remind myself this is all a temporary thing, but sometimes, with how you all talk, it’s like… I don’t know, Namjoon. It’s just different.”

He has to bite his tongue and try his hardest not to correct your perception of ‘this thing,’ which is very much not just a thing nor temporary. Namjoon wants to confirm that no shit it’s different because you are their mate. He decided it was best not to get into that issue right now with everything you have heard so far, but he is afraid that you won’t hear it from him in the right way if he told you it to begin with. He already botched this once; he doesn't want to do it again. After a moment, Namjoon redirects the conversation to one of the reasons why he came in. 

“I wanted to thank you for attending the Gala with me last night,” Namjoon says while looking at your still connected hands. “I also wanted to commend you on how well you handled the situation with the carpet. I should have been in better control of myself but, then again, I haven’t ever taken a… a playmate to an event alone before. That was a first for me.”

Your scent fluffs a bit sweeter as you smile at him. “Thank you, Prime Alpha. I had hoped I did the right thing. I didn’t realize how much my scent would affect you, or I would have tried to keep it calm or turn it off, not that I know how to do that,” you say with your smile faltering. “That was a first for me too, the LACMA Gala and the Alphaing out thing. I am just glad that Jennie-ssi and Jung Jae-ssi were there to show me where to go.”

The memory of Namjoon's koalaing to your back causes you to giggle, which makes said Alpha look at you with a raised eyebrow, and you can’t help but laugh more. “You, ah, got very clingy. You reminded me more of a Koala hybrid than a Wolf hybrid then,” you smile. “It was cute and calming.”

A faint blush colors Namjoon’s face as he pulls his hands out from holding yours. You, however, reach out and hold his hands in yours instead. His eyes are looking at you with a hint of shock and curiosity.

“Namjoon, Prime Alpha,” you start with a soft expression, hoping your scent conveys your sincerity. “I know we started on the wrong foot. Not just you and I, but the whole pack and I. How I became your playmate wasn’t ideal, but it was what you thought was best for your packmates at the time.”

Namjoon goes to jump in, only to have you cut him off and continue by saying, “I know Hoseok thinks you need to grovel and beg me for forgiveness, kinda like how Taehyung is doing, but as the Luna of my family pack, I understand why you did what you did, more or less.”

“No, Y/n,” quietly says Namjoon with a slightly pained look. “It was wrong of me. Utterly wrong of me.”

Now it was your turn to be cut off from trying to excuse him out of feeling guilty when Namjoon stood up and walked away. Without turning back to you, he says, “There is so much… I mean, there are things your family has taught you about hybrids that are a bit awry. I am sure that your family pack has tried to help teach you more things but then again, it’s hard to change something that someone has lived with their whole life.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, shifting in your seat. “I know about hybrid stuff. I don’t know about Alpha-specific things, but I can see if I can take a class for that. I am sure PMS will pay for it.”

Shaking his head, Namjoon turns to face you. He looked to the ceiling and ran his hand through his hair, stopping to scratch the back of his wolf ear before he answered, “You have a pack full of Alphas that are more than happy to teach you more accurately than any class will. Jimin-ah said he would enjoy teaching you the hybrid way of nests and boundaries. Hoseok has some ideas about other things, and I am sure the rest of us will find our things to show and teach you.”

“We,” Namjoon pauses, mumbling something about why words do not seem to work well around you before he looks at you and continues, “We don’t want to push you too far too fast, and I am worried we might. Please remember that you always have the right to stop anything we do. If any of us make you uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to come to me, and if it’s me, you can talk with one of the hyungs, okay?”

You look at the floor with scrunched brows. “Why is that a recurring thing with you?” you ask, looking up at him with a very concerned look. “Every time we talk about something or do something, someone brings up that I can stop things and say no. Are you trying to make sure I know or are you all trying to remind yourselves that I can?”

Your accusatory tone and the point of your question take back Namjoon. It makes him pause and stare at you as your scent turns more into its perfumed side, meaning he has done nothing towards settling things with you and only makes you worry more. Rubbing his hand down his face, he lets out a low growl of frustration at himself.

Knock Knock

Namjoon spins around to your door, his growl deepening at the interruption before he sees Seokjin standing there. With a huff, Namjoon stops growling, and his shoulders sag at seeing the eldest mate. 

“I just wanted to let you know that lunch is ready,” Seokjin says with narrowed eyes and a slightly turned head as he takes in Namjoon’s reaction to a simple knock on the door. Looking past his Prime Alpha, he takes in your stiff posture, instinctively making him take a deeper breath. 

Namjoon’s leather smells like it has been left under the sun for too long, and it mixes with your perfumed sweetpea, but there remains the hint of the vanilla mate scent. Shaking his head, Seokjin steps inside your den to stand beside the wolf hybrid, who follows his movements with a pleading look. 

Putting his arms around Namjoon, Seokjin looks at you with a soft smile. “I take it the pack meeting didn’t stop in the living room?” he asks.

You roll your eyes in an almost agreeing movement, turning your head away from the two. Namjoon just lets out a soft whine and leans into the elder mate. “I see,” says Seokjin. “Well, there have been a lot of deep discussions and apparently unanswered questions or mixed feelings remain.”

“You got that right,” you mumble under your breath. Both hybrids hear it. Namjoon looks at Seokjin with wide eyes. His scent turns more into a burnt version. 

With a sigh, Seokjin maneuvers Namjoon to start heading out the door, instructing, “Joonie-ah, go and gather the pack for lunch. I am sure our muscle bunny has probably already started, but get the rest to settle in. Y/n and I will join in a few, but don’t wait.”

Opening his mouth to object, wanting to help resolve what he assumes is another fuck up on his part. Seokjin raises his eyebrow and holds up a finger, causing the Prime Alpha to close his mouth and quickly walk out of the room. His actions pull an amused hum from you, bringing the eldest hybrid’s attention back to you. 

Looking up, you look back down quickly, saying, “Sorry. Never thought I would see a Prime Alpha back down and leave without a word like that.”

“Oh,” giggles Seokjin with a wave of his hand. “Namjoon is the Prime Alpha but every once in a while he needs his Hyung to get him to listen. He really is a lap puppy under all that tough, leader persona.”

Noting that your scent hasn’t changed much, even with Namjoon leaving, Seokjin asks, “Are you alright, Y/n?”

Looking back at the eldest hybrid, you think for a moment. Are you okay? Technically, yes, you are, but you are also full of questions that keep zipping around while feeling lost but not at the same time. A tap on your forehead causes you to blink your eyes and quickly lean back when you see Seokjin just inches from your face. 

“I lost you for a bit,” comments Seokjin. “Are you hungry or do you think you can wait for a bit?”

“Umm, well, I am not starving,” you answer. “Why?”

“Good, come with me,” Seokjin said, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet and out the door. In a booming voice, he yells, “Jungkook, Yoongi! Nesting room, now!”

Hissing at him, you say, “Jin! They are eating, what are you doing?”

“Just be a good girl and come with me,” he smirks. The sound of chairs scraping and shouts of agreement come, but your brain is shorting out on two simple words– good girl.

You have been called many things before in your lifetime, but a good girl has never been one of them, at least not that you can remember. The tingles that it gave your brain decided to trickle down your back like a teasing caress, and that was something you weren’t expecting. Then again, after only being around these men for about a week now, you should be used to the unexpected. The question you will have to unpack later is, was it the name ‘good girl,’ was it how Seokjin said it, or was it because Seokjin said it that caused that reaction?

For Jin, your scent doesn’t give away your internal reaction to those words as much as your sudden lack of resistance does. Glancing over his shoulder as he leads you down the hall to the nesting room, he can see your eyes have fallen to your feet while your cheeks have become rosie.

Inside the nesting room, Seokjin sits you on the edge of the nest and kneels at your feet. After looking at your soles, he shakes his head, grabs a wet wipe from one of the drawers, and starts wiping off what you think might be grass and dirt from your walk outside this morning. Seokjin was muttering something about dirty feet and Taehyung having a heart attack if he knew as he cleaned you up.

While he is doing that, Yoongi walks in, followed by Jungkook, who is still holding a sandwich. Both seem to pause for a second before the perfumed sweetpea hits them. With a shared look, Jungkook quickly scarfed down the sandwich and ran to the kitchen to get everyone bottled water and the mango package they had the staff bring just for you. 

Without a word, Yoongi moved into the nest and rearranged the pillows and blankets. After smelling the hint of leather and the state of your scent, his goal was to lessen Namjoon’s presence in the nest while still keeping it there enough that you would start to associate it as something safe. Pulling Jimin’s, Taehyung’s, and Hoseok’s scents towards the middle, hoping to give you a subconscious signal that your mates are with you right now. 

You watched everything happening with a soft smile. It didn’t take much to recognize that they would try and use contact comfort to help you collect your thoughts or at least slow them down. Evie’s family would do this with you often, as contact comfort was one of the most helpful in settling the scents of packmates. The idea that their wordless agreements and understanding of the situation were so in sync when it came to something like this with you made your heart warm and your scent to fluff with vanilla and a hint of pear. 

Once Jungkook was back, your feet were cleaned, and the nest was remade. Yoongi curled up to the far back of the nest while Jungkook and Seokjin stood outside in front of you. 

Putting down his snacks, Jungkook looked at you with concern, asking, “Sweets, is everything okay? Your scent is kind of confusing.” He takes a deeper breath before continuing, “It’s like, you are not rejecting what happened, but worrying about it? Yet there is something else but I don’t know what it means.”

Before you can answer, Seokjin answers, “She and Joonie had a talk in her den. I think our handsome mate still hasn’t learned how to speak without putting his paw in his mouth around a certain lovely lady.”

Yoongi grumbles from behind you before he reaches out with a hand on your shoulder and gently pulls you back into the nest. “Namjoon-ah needs to stop trying to fix things without talking to one of us,” comments the jaguar. 

“There really wasn’t anything to fix, though,” you retorted as you scooted back and centered yourself in the nest. “I told him I understood why he made me your playmate and that he was just looking out for you guys, and you could have sworn I told him that I didn’t think hybrids existed.”

“Then, when he told me about the plan to have you lot teach me the ropes about Alphas and I guess what it means to be a hybrid, he reminded me yet again that I can say no,” You huff pulling off his bathroom, which is trying to strangle you as it catches on the nesting materials. “I mean, how many times does he or any of you need to say it? Like, I got it. No means no; it always has.”

“Dear, Namjoon was only trying to ensure or reinforce that boundaries aren’t a problem,” Seokjin reiterates, to which you huff and throw the robe out of the nest. All three hybrids pause, watching as if throwing it aside signifies something more important than merely removing it and stopping it from being in the way. 

“Oh yeah, reinforce for who? I asked him,” You start to sass. “If the reminders were actually for me or him.” That garners a low, skin-tingling growl from Yoongi; meanwhile, Seokjin and Jungkook look like you just said something unexpected. 

“Princess,” growls Yoongi. “We. Are. Alphas. We are not like those trashy, self-indulgent, egotistical, unethical humans who hold the unfortunate claim to being male because they possess the right chromosomes.”

Shifting you further onto your back and leaning over you so that he is inches from your face, upside down, Yoongi continues, “But that is all they are– male. They are not men; they will never be considered an Alpha. It would be wise for you to remember that you are surrounded by Alpha men. Understood, Princess?”

Internally, you are yelling at yourself for the rush of arousal that floods your system at his nonpermissive tone of voice and darkened expression. Your scent flaring with sweetness as your vanilla mate scent thickens like a syrup, signaling the two less dominant mates in the room know that they can relax.  

You start to nod and pause when Yoongi’s eyes narrow slightly at your moments. Swallowing and licking your lip, you softly say, “Yes, Alpha.”

A smile softens his face at your reply. Slowly, Yoongi leans down, kisses your forehead softly, and mutters, “Good girl, Princess.”

There you go again, a tingle down your spine at the use of ‘good girl.’ Guess you now have your answer to the question. Apparently, the term caused a reaction because it has now happened to both Seokjin and Yoongi. God, you are gonna need to learn how to stop acting like a hormone-driven teenager around these “Alpha Men,” or you are gonna lose your job. Seriously, how do playmates do this day in and day out?

“Maybe they are just used to it? Not all of them can resist having some kind of attraction, or the partner rut contracts wouldn’t be a thing,” answers Jungkook, his ears standing tall and listening intently to everything.

You snap your head up, almost hitting Yoongi, and as you look at Jungkook with wide eyes, you ask, “Did… how much did I say out loud?”

Tilting his head, causing one ear to fold in half, with slight confusion, he slowly says, “How do playmates do this… day in and out? Did you not want an answer?”

You giggle softly and try to play it off, “I guess, I did. I just didn’t think I said it loud enough for you… umm… to hear.”

Jungkook smiles, happy to have answered your question with his exceptional hearing skills. “I can hear hushed things. It’s all part of being a prey hybrid. As a rabbit, I can hear something up to two miles away, but typically, the sound has to be in a higher pitch.”

You nod and lay back down, glancing up at Yoongi as he lies along the wall before looking at Seokjin. Seokjin and Yoongi snicker at your attempt but say nothing. 

Kneeling in the nest, Seokjin taps your leg, saying, “In your den, it seemed to me that you just need a moment to exist. Based on your actions, I also noticed that Yoongi and Kookie are your safe packmates in Bangtan.”

“I was thinking, you can take some time to lay in a proper nest with your two protectors and either relax, ask questions, explore your dynamic with them. Whatever you need right now,” offers Seokjin. “I will be here as well just to help facilitate, in case one of their Alphas front.”

“Oh, umm… Like a grounding session?” you ask to clarify. 

Seokjin smiles, agreeing, “Yes, a grounding session. Typically, as hybrids, we also scent the packmate that is the focus of the grounding session but that is entirely up to you.”

Jungkook inquisitively approaches the nest, asking, “Is it okay for me to come in? Can I lay at your back? Please?” His eyes look more like a doe than a bunny, which causes you to smile and nod because how could you deny such a simple request?

Excitedly, Jungkook hops into the nest and quickly gets in his spot behind you as you lean on your side, giving him space. While you spot Yoongi moving to take his place in front of you, you don’t notice Jungkook taking off his shirt. When Yoongi leans into your chest like a big kitten, nuzzling along the collarbones that peek out from your tank top sleepwear, you feel warm skin against your shoulders. You try to move away, but the weight of Yoongi on your chest and Jungkook’s arm wrapping around your waist stops you. 

Both of your protectors know they are pushing their actions a bit, but after the pack meeting, they are hopeful they can. At this point, all three hybrids can smell the spike perfume as they settle around you, but they wait to see what you will do. It takes only seconds for that perfume to dissipate and become more like the floral notes of jasmine. 

Yoongi instinctively purrs at the happy scent of you as it surrounds him, mixing with Jungkook’s snickerdoodle and hints of the pack from the nest. Jungkook’s cotton tail wiggles at the change in your scent—the feeling of finally having you in his arms where you belong adds to his elation. 

Seokjin, on the other hand, breathes a sigh of relief that you subconsciously or instinctively decided to accept their bolder moves. Not only is your personal scent showing your acceptance of their contact comfort, but the mate scent remains consistent and syrupy. Show each of them that your bond with the bunny and the jaguar has, in fact, grown. 

However, experiencing intimate contact with Jungkook can be slightly intimidating, especially with the entire pack home and two in the same room. It is unexpectedly reassuring once you take a moment to stop to remember the discussion from the pack meeting and then start feeling. The warmth of Jungkook’s body melding with your back is more pleasant than expected. The presence of a hybrid-sized heated weighted blanket, which Yoongi has become soothing, allows your mind to divert from the racing thoughts. 

Relaxing into their hold, you adjust to lean more against Jungkook, who happily accepts by pulling you closer at the waist. Your arm drapes over Yoongi and rests below his neck, between his shoulder blades. With a small break in his purring, Yoongi scoots closer since you moved away from him, causing your hand to slide up his neck and into the base of his hair. His furry ears twitch and almost flutter at the feeling as his purring increases. 

Taking that as a good sign, you slowly scratch at his scalp almost absentmindedly as you breathe in the spring rain of Yoongi’s petrichor and Jungkook’s sweet but spiced snickerdoodle. Your mind slowly becomes a buzz of peace and calmness you haven’t experienced in a long time. It’s not long till your soft snores are heard over Yoongi’s purring.

Seokjin finds his way around, where he knows his bonded mates can see him and catch their attention. Much to Seokjin’s prediction, he has the attention of a golden-yellow-eyed Alpha and a smokey grey-eyed Alpha. His tender and proud smile blooms at the younger Alpha’s comforting, caring, and protecting their ladymate. 

“Alpha Yoon, Alpha Kook,” Seokjin greets. “I will step out and let the pack know our Ladymate is being cared for and not to worry or bother the three of you. I will be in and out to check on you guys.”

Alpha Kook nods and pulls you closer to himself, wanting you to stay comfortable and warm. Alpha Yoon, however, looks at Seokjin like he wants to say something as his eyes narrow at the older bonded mate. 

“Yes, Alpha Yoon?” asks Seokjin, attempting to prompt him into speaking his mind. 

With a broken purr, Alpha Yoon demands, “Bring Tae. Must serve mate. Keep warm. Stay close.”

Seokjin’s eyes light with understanding. “That’s right, Alpha Yoon. Taehyung is in service to Y/n right now,” affirms Seokjin. “I will send him in next, but I will ensure he knows you two are in charge of this right now.”

After Alpha Yoon thinks about what Seokjin said, he nods and snuggles closer, prompting Seokjin to stand quietly and leave the nest in search of the pack—specifically, a tiger to send in and a wolf to have a serious discussion with. 

Previous / Next

Perminate Taglist - OPEN

@bethanysnow @braveangel777 @danielle143 @elliegrace1999 @skyys-universe @reallysparklychaos @stylishhwa @paramedicnerd004 @afangirl91 @psychosupernatural @marvel-potter-1d-korea 

Series Taglist - Closed

In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.

Eventually.

Eventually.

You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—

“What are you doing?!”

You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.

Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.

“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.

He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.

Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them. 

Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.

And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.

You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.

“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.

Paralyzed.

Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”

Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.

That he, too, had reverted back to the past.

When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.

He reverted back just as you had.

Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.

Two little kids.

You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.

But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.

When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.

The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.

The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.

You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.

You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.

And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.

Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.

Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.

Anyone else.

He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.

Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”

You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.

He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.

Of a child.

He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.

Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.

“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.

“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.

“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.” 

You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.

All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.

For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.

Or rather, he was the war itself.

You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.

You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.

“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.

Because weapons do not weep.

And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.

“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.

“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”

There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.

“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”

“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.

“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”

He. Your father.

“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.

“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.

With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.

One. Two. Three…

It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.

It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.

There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.

There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.

The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

.

.

.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.

“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”

Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.

Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.

Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.

Under scrutiny.

“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.

“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”

“I told him something he didn’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it. 

And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.

“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”

No.

No, not at all.

You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.

You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.

You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.

The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.

“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.

You lie because you have to.

“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”

His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”

“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”

“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”

No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.

“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”

You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it. 

Every bit of this.

“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.

Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.

It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.

“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”

He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.

“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.

“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”

“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.

“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”

But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.

Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.

It’s been a little over a month.

Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.

Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.

He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.

“..Kook.”

You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.

He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.

“Do you need something?”

It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.

“When are they coming?”

“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.

“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.

“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”

You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting? 

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”

For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.

You look exhausted.

The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.

Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.

“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.

“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”

He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.

“Jungkook?”

“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”

“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.

In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.

“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”

Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him. 

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”

“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”

“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”

“Bruises?”

“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.

Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.

“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.

“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.

When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.

Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.

About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.

It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.

Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.

And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.

You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.

It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.

Somehow.

And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision. 

Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.

Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.

“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.

“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”

“...Do I now?”

“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.

You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”

From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.

But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.

He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.

If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.

“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.

He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.

.

.

.

Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.

A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.

He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.

Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.

Feeding you to the wolves.

He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.

But nothing turned out alright.

In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.

While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?

The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?

“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.

You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you. 

A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers. 

Then another.

Then another.

And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.

You don’t resist.

“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.

You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.

Vacant.

Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”

If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?