⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: on halloween, you had met death. the next thing you knew, you were waking up in barren wastelands. it kinda sucks when you learn that you’ve been reincarnated as a demon. oh, and that you’re in the underworld. supernatural au.
⟶ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: devil!namjoon x succubus!reader ft. devil!taehyung
⟶ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst • fluff • smut
⟶ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17.5k
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: just a light pre-warning, there’s a LOT of smut in this. Like,,, a lOT
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dom!namjoon, possessive!namjoon, sub!reader, teasing, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, collaring, bondage, namjoon has a big demon cock xxx, heavy bdsm elements, bdsm master/slave dynamics, spanking, degradation, praise, spitting, rough sex, doggy style/leapfrog position, squirting, creampie, cum play, cum swallowing, pussy eating, slight overstimulation, cum eating, blowjob, deepthroating, cockwarming but in a throat (does that make sense), riding, soft romantic sex yeehaw. may contain an abusive relationship. please do not read if the mentioned warnings trigger you
⟶ 𝑎/𝑛: this wasn’t actually supposed to be a two shot hnnnn but I wrote 4/9 scenes planned and it hit 17.5k and i was like 𝘺𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴,, gotta cut it. so anyway, here is part one! i hope you enjoy it!!
⇥ part of the KSmutClub Monster Smash halloween project
⏤ Part I | Part II | Part III ⇥ incomplete
The slapping of feet echoes through the air as you dart through the unfamiliar streets. Lungs burning for oxygen, you gasp. You refuse to stop. Even though your muscles strain against your skin, the flesh prickling with heat as you push them towards exertion, you refuse to stop. You can’t stop. If you do, they’ll get you. So you keep running. The need to look behind consumes you - to see if they’re still following you. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would be a huge mistake - but you can’t help it.
Against your better judgement, you turn your head around, eyes widening when you see that they’re still chasing you - and closing the distance between you and them quickly. Your heart thunders in your ears; fear coursing through your veins. They’ll catch you soon. The turn of your head causes you to stumble slightly, and the world tilts as you find yourself falling.
Quickly, you catch yourself, your steps faltering only for a brief moment as you skid, your feet scraping the ground. You hiss as pain flares along your soles - but ignore it. In the split second that you stumble, they advance closer towards you. The hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you feel one of their clawed hands brush against it. Whimpering, you force your feet to move faster. There’s absolutely no way you can stop now - even if your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, even if your chest aches, and even if the muscles of your legs cry out for relief. If they get you, you’ll be far worse off.
You turn around a corner, narrowly missing one of their grasping hands and immediately stop, large, obsidian gates ahead of you. Relief rushes through you, and you flood with a sudden surge of energy. Using the newfound momentum, you force your legs to run faster before bursting through the gates. Once inside, you struggle to close them: the gates impossibly heavy. When they refuse to budge, your heart drops in your chest. Swiftly, you look up and see the demons that were chasing you. They’re only a few feet away. You let out a terrified sob, falling to the floor before hurriedly crawling away. Immediately, your eyes screw shut. Every single one of your muscles erratically quivers with fear.
— summary: loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. and the reapers’ loyalty lies much deeper than that
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, mafia!au
— word count: 5.6k
— warnings: mentions of breaking, emotional trauma, implied sexual harassment/abuse, implied forceful age-gap relationship (we're getting to more dark stuff here so please read at your own discretion, PLEASE)
— part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11
— masterpost
“They say she’s the actual Grim Reaper herself.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“She’s on a rampage, going around killing anyone who has done her wrong. She’s already taken out Gwon Daejung!”
“Grim reapers go around collecting souls, she’s out here trying to collect the heads of all her enemies!”
“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”
“That monster killed her own father to get the throne.”
“What if we’re next?”
Knock, knock, knock.
A click of the door opens and he stares in horror at the said Reaper who’s out to collect the heads of all her enemies. With a smirk plastered on her face, hands resting behind her, and a flicking shine from the scythe earrings she wears, he can feel the beat of his heart drumming hard against his chest.
“Hello there, Mr. Choi,” you greet with a sinister expression resting well on your face, “it seems death has just knocked on your door. Would you mind giving me the pleasure of taking your life?”
.
.
.
“Why did you call me, Namjoon? You do know that I’m a pretty busy woman, don’t you? I have heads to sever and hearts to stab out.”
“Seems you’ve become quite the bloodthirsty mobster.”
You shrug lightly at his comment, adjusting the black gloves in your hands that are tainted with blood. “Well, life is pretty cruel to women so there’s quite a lot of people whom I have to go after now that I have the power to do so.”
“This is why you killed your father off?” He asks, eyes narrowed at you who only seems to be paying attention to your gloves. “Now that I think about it, you say you’re out to kill all the people who have done you wrong. Was your father your first target in all of this?”
Your hands freeze in place and when you look up at him, those eyes of yours are as cold as a stone, showing no sign of weakness, no amount of emotions for him to try and see through your facade. He can’t read you.
“What are you talking about?” You feign a smile. “If my father never cared for me, would he have accepted me so easily when I returned home after divorcing you? Any sane mobster who’s thirsty for power would have never let that slide. Yet father welcomed me in very well with wide, open arms.”
“Fool,” you hear your father’s disdained voice in the back of your mind.
“You’ve always been useless from the second you were born. For a moment I thought things were going well, finally made useful to me. But here you are, crawling right back and begging for forgiveness at the foot of your father. I told you to make yourself useful.”
No matter how foolish and stupid you were ten years ago, at least you understood what to do in order to keep the image of a happy family alive and well.
Divorcing Namjoon was one of the hardest decisions in your life but you were left with no other choice. Returning that ring, asking him for a divorce, even that moment of weakness where you asked them to give you a second chance, all of that was planned.
After all, divorcing Namjoon meant facing father’s wrath so you had to do it smartly, hence you asked him to sign a contract with you before you left, before the divorce was finalized. It was the only way you could get through to your father. He would be angry either way but at least then he didn’t have to worry about losing power.
Power was all father wanted after all, and you allowed him to keep that.
That contract saved you from potentially dying at your father’s very own hands.
“Open arms…”
You stare at Namjoon with a small, playful smirk, knowing he must be thinking back on his own father. “Envious?”
He sends you a glare and you look away with a shrug, amusement plastered on your face.
“Did all those silent vows of keeping each others’ secrets safe not matter after the divorce?”
“Of course it does!” You say at his suspicion on you. “You don’t really think I’m the type to go around spreading every traumatic story of you and the boys to the world just because we don’t care for each other anymore, do you?”
“I don’t know who you are anymore, Y/N.”
“Right,” you nod. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah? Anyways, what am I doing here again?”
Namjoon lets out a sigh and reaches from the back of his pants to hand you a simple envelope. You stare at it, blinking.
“If it’s a letter of some sort, you could have simply sent it through the mail, old man.”
“I figured you’d rather keep the envelope as is rather than having words painted on them.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s Jungwon’s.” You freeze and he takes a moment to look at the envelope before beckoning for you to take it once more. “One of the letters was meant for you.”
A letter was written for you? What for?
If Mister Butler had anything to say to you, why didn’t he just speak them to you when he had the chance? Perhaps it’s something secretive that he couldn’t say aloud?
No, can’t be. All his letters were basically his diaries but, why would one of them be addressed to you?
You pull the gloves off your hands, not wanting anything to taint the envelope before taking it from Namjoon. “Did you read it?” You ask and he shakes his head.
“Those are your initials, yes?”
They are.
“The content of the letters addressed to you,” you look back at him, wondering, “what were they about?”
“His daily life. A diary, as you said.”
“He never mentioned anything about what he was doing at the Reaper’s manor in the first place?”
Namjoon shakes his head, a sigh leaving his lips. “Nothing of that sort. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much with my investigation.”
“Surely your father had some answers.”
“Anything that has to do with my father has already been searched and burned away. None of them ever mentioned anything about my brother. It’s almost as if it disappeared along with him, as if my father knew.”
Did his father get word of Mister Butler’s death? He must have, hence all evidence about what he had done were all destroyed for Namjoon to never find out.
“When did my brother disappear?”
“The eighth of January,” you tell him. “I was nine.” You were hurt that night, severely injured. You don’t remember exactly the events that went by, just the fact that the next thing you knew, you were standing in front of the man you loved so much, staring into his unblinking eyes. “He never said goodbye and after that night, I never saw him again.”
“Something must have happened.”
Yeah, your father killed him and blamed it all on poor little you.
“Well, I have to go now,” you say as you turn around and begin to walk off, “as I said, I’m a pretty busy woman.”
“Y/N if you know anything—”
“I got into an accident that night, Namjoon, so I don’t recall much of what happened.”
“Then those workers—”
“Are dead,” you say. “I killed them all.”
You hear him let out a frustrated sigh. “Honestly, you’re too impulsive. If one of them were still alive, they’d know what happened and have better intel than what we have now.”
“Well,” you shrug, “even if one of them were still alive, those workers didn’t really pay much attention to Mister Butler. To them, he was just another one of them, and if someone disappears out of nowhere, they’d only think what they know.”
Any sane worker would think they’d died at the hands of the leaders of the mafia they’re working in.
In Jungwon’s case, it was exactly that. No exception.
“See ya.”
With that, you walk off without looking back again, the letter tightly grasped in your hand.
.
.
.
You stand alone in the garden of the greenhouse, eyes staring blankly at the red roses right before you. With a white suit on, your overcoat drapes on your shoulder as you cross your arms against your chest, the gloves gone as blood still stains your clothing from your previous endeavor.
You don’t care to clean up just yet.
The rose bushes intrigues you as you stare at them, a reminder of someone you used to know.
“The roses remind me of you, Y/N.”
“...Why is that, sir?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh at the title you call him by, but falls understanding that no matter how much he asks of you, you’d never call him by name. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t wish for a close relationship, my dear?” He asks, a small pout glanced your way. “Despite the fact that we were almost engaged?”
You don’t answer his question, giving him anything but a blank stare. It’s all he’ll ever see from you, all you will ever show him. He will never witness your anger, your sadness, your happiness, or any emotions out of you.
Relationships do not matter to you, after all, he’s just another pawn for your father.
“Why do the roses remind you of me, sir?” You speak as if reading off a script; emotionless, robotic.
His brows furrow slightly but he’s used to this. “You’re pretty and you look innocent and sweet and precious, but anytime anyone tries to get any close to you,” he holds his hand out to caress your cheek, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as he flashes you a small smile, “you will put up a guard and have your thorns protect you. They are your walls, aren’t they?”
“I haven’t hurt you in the slightest, sir.”
He chuckles. “But you resent me, don’t you?”
“I do not hold any feelings towards you.”
“...Right.” He looks down at your figure, the way you sit on the bed obediently, and will not move unless instructed otherwise. You dress in a silky nightgown, one of the straps fallen from your shoulder, and he takes his hand from your face to trace over one of the visible scars held against your skin. You say nothing, you do nothing, and despite his gentle touches, you feel nothing.
He watches you as if trying to monitor your reactions, and when you give him nothing to see, he trails down to your hand and gently takes hold of it.
“You may not hold any feelings towards me but…” he traces the purple ring around your wrist, “you resent my father, do you not?” You say nothing so he goes on. “I may not know you as well as I hope to, Y/N, but even I understand that a lady would never want a man she doesn’t desire to touch her whether in a precious hold or not. You come here, walk into a man’s room whether you like to or not, just like an obedient puppet, and do nothing to go against your father’s words. So whether it’s me touching you or my father…you will not speak up against it.”
So he knew of his father’s doings, yet the closer you watch him, you realize that he’d only learned of that fact recently. Your potential fiance, despite the whole ordeal being to his benefit, has never once taken advantage of you. He holds onto his morals, a man of principles, and when he finds the truth of your relationship with your father, he expresses opposition.
But the two of you are one and the same, living a similar life.
He cannot go against his father, just as you cannot go against yours.
You’re both far too weak against the men of the house.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, almost a whisper, and you see the way he tries to hold onto his anger for you, the way his hand trembles slightly as he does his best not to hold onto your hand too tight. As if afraid he’d hurt you.
He reminds you of someone, but you don’t wish to remember so you look away, not wanting to see that little spark in his eyes.
“I had no reason to.”
When you say that, he looks back up at you, a flash of hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “No reason?” He scoffs. “You have purple bruises on your wrist and you’re saying you had no reason to tell me these things? My father did this to you, Y/N, and I can only imagine what other horrible things he’s done to you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” You look off to the side, taking your hand from his hold to look out at the window where a bird perches on the tree just outside. “In the end, we can do nothing.”
He hates how right you are, and hates the way you seem to shiver slightly from the cold, goosebumps forming along your skin, yet you say nothing against your pain. You do not care for your well-being, and you guess by now he’s probably realized you’re already broken.
A broken doll for your father to use at his disposal.
You hear him let out a grunt of anger yet when he slips your strap back onto your shoulder and holds the blanket over you, his actions are as gentle towards you as ever.
“When you decide to let your thorns be known to the world, I hope you can come after my father and kill him yourself.” He stands from the bed, going for the door but not before looking back at you for one last thing. “I will wait for you until then.”
How long has it been since you heard those words fall from his lips? It was the last conversation you had with the man, before he went away and did all that he could to drive the relationship between your gang and his to fall apart.
You’re not sure how he did it, but he somehow made it possible for the two of you to never see each other again, and in doing so, saved you from having to see his father ever again.
He was different from Ying, because while Ying always watched you get belittled and hurt and went to console you afterwards, the second he found out the truth, he did all that he could to at least save you from one less burden to carry.
He could do nothing about your father, but he took his father away for your sake.
The roses remind you of him, yet despite the little moments of good memories you have with him, they will always be overshadowed by all the things his father has done to you.
And the longer you stare at the roses, the more you wish to cast the memories away, the more you wish to never remember his face, his voice, and the way he held you.
You feel disgusted.
Perhaps if I touch them…maybe the pain will take over the pain of having to remember him.
You hold your hand out as if in a daze, a chant repeating in your head to try and convince you that marking yourself with physical pain will give you a chance in forgetting the past pains.
Hurt me hurt me hurt me. Let me forget.
You feel your teeth clenching, brows knitted, and just as your hand is about to grab a handful of the rose bush filled with thorns, someone grabs ahold of your hand with a force, stopping you mid-way.
“Please don’t touch the roses, all the plants here are important for the antidotes and poisons we work so hard to create.” It’s Han, one of the young researchers working alongside Yeonjun. He watches over the greenhouse, keeping the plants well-fed and healthy, always holed up in here to help aid the young genius hacker in his researches.
You know just how important each and every plant here are, yet it doesn’t stop you from the hypnotized state you’re in.
You ignore his touch and warning, further hoping to grab a fist full of thorns.
“Boss, please.” Han’s voice fades into the distance as you see nothing but the thorns before you. “Boss-”
“Y/N.”
Someone rips your attention from the flowers, hands held onto both your shoulders, forcing your body to turn their way, and that’s when you seem to come back to your senses.
“..Mingyu.”
“Have tea ready,” your second in command orders to Han, who in turn nods and walks off, knowing Mingyu always knows what to do.
“I’m fine.” You push him off you to turn from the flowers, a bit weak in your legs, and when he sees that, Mingyu reaches out to help you keep steady.
“I guess we have our next target, huh?” One look at you and the flowers and he understands in an instant. “Yuna will be happy.”
“Yuna’s happy with everyone we face.”
“Well,” he shrugs, “can’t really blame her.”
“Forget it,” you begin to walk off without his help, towards the bench just under the wisterias to take your seat. “I don’t want to face them just yet.”
Mingyu watches you with an observing gaze, and when Han returns with the tea, he lets out a sigh when you sip the drink to help you calm your nerves. The more people you go after, the more drained you become, and the more hysterical your state grows. He can’t blame you, after all, these are the people who have done you so wrong in the past, leaving you with scars both physically and mentally.
“Alright,” he says upon your orders when you give him the cup after a good couple of gulps, body laid over to rest your head against the pillow that’s already there for you when you wish to take your afternoon breaks. When your eyes start to droop, he takes a step to the right to block the glaring sun filtering into the greenhouse.
And Mingyu stays there watching after you like a personal knight whose only job is to watch over and protect the princess.
He hates every second of seeing you suffer all alone.
.
.
.
“The longer you keep this up, the harder it’ll be on your body.” When you look up at him from your cup of tea, Namjoon goes on. “Going after the people that’s pissed you off isn’t an easy job. Not only are many of the people that belong to the shadows tough but they do crazy things to one’s mind as well. You’re a victim to the shadows both physically and mentally.”
“Get to the point, Namjoon.”
“You need to slow down, take a break,” he says, “before you break.”
Break.
Hah. What a strange word.
“You needn’t worry about that, I’m already a broken doll.” It’s such a simple sentence that leaves your lips, as if you were speaking about the weather. You show no amount of emotion, eyes as dead as they were the first time he saw you again after ten whole years.
But even then, your ex-lover can see how drained you are by all of these endeavors. You’re stubborn, refusing to admit to the truth, but he knows just how tired you must be both physically and mentally. What if one day you go too far and there’s no one to save you from the drowning?
“I’m serious,” he states against your protest. Namjoon may not understand what happened through the ten years of your disappearance, the extent to which you were hurting, but even he knows just how much it has affected you.
After all, no sweet person can ever turn dark and emotionless without reason.
“I want to get rid of them as soon as possible.” You look up at him from the hood of your lids, taking a sip of the tea that’s been served for you. You were never really one who desired coffee, and ever since Yeonjun joined the gang, all that’s ever helped to calm your nerves were his tea. “You understand how that feels, don’t you?”
Namjoon doesn’t say anything but you can see the answer in his hesitation.
“So whether you want to stop me or not, I’m not going to rest until they’re all dead. I can’t.” Because your body refuses to let you. Each time you rest your eyes, nightmares will plague your thoughts, and unless your Reapers are there to help you through the episodes, you can never calm from the fear.
Everything scares you the more people you face, the world closing in, the walls suffocating you. Every second you face them, it feels as if your lungs are weighed by a heavy boulder, refusing to let you breathe. But you’d rather face these disgusting, vile creatures, than to know that they still live, walking the Earth as if all the things they’ve done to you is something that should not be considered a crime, as if they had simply crushed a bug with their foot.
You hurt from their pains while they hold their heads up, laughing in their own freedom.
You want your own freedom.
You need it, you crave it.
And you can never achieve it unless they’re gone from the torture they do to your head.
“Fine.” Namjoon knows he can’t stop you, so he relents. “Who’s your next target then?”
A man you’ve been avoiding.
You put the teacup down, resting against the chair, and cross a leg over the other. “I’ll need your help again, if you’re up for it.”
“And this is?”
“Ever heard of the Black Rose?”
He thinks over the question, a slight purse of his lips. “Isn’t that the gang that left for London? They were faring well here so no one knows why they left when the streets of London is much harder to gain control of.”
“They left because of me.”
He looks at you, blinking. “What?”
“The son, Hwang Hyunjin and I had somewhat of a relationship,” you explain. “I wouldn’t say we were close nor would I say we were friends but he supported me as a friend would. He cared for me.”
Namjoon’s brows knit in just the slightest way. “If he cared for you, why would he leave Korea?”
“He cared for me, that’s why he left.”
Hyunjin was the only decent human being that did the things he did in a respectable and accurate manner among all the mafiosos you’ve met. Even though you could never escape the abuse and pain, he still did you a favor by getting rid of someone who would have traumatized you even more than the man already had.
“So then, if it isn’t Hyunjin you’re after, who is it?”
“Who else but his father?”
“You’re walking into dangerous territory, Y/N.”
“Isn’t everything we do dangerous?” You flick your hair to lay behind your back, not wanting to back down. “He has more power in London than you but that doesn’t mean you aren’t influential there either. That’s why I need you on this mission. Hyunjin will be on my side, as well as you. I’ll need both of you to take Mr. Hwang down.”
“How are you so sure Hyunjin will be on your side? This is his father we’re talking about.”
“And you understand just how broken that relationship can be in this world.” Because his own father was never one to care for him. “It may be different from yours, Hyunjin and his father trust each other, but at the end of the day, he left Korea all for me.”
He left Korea for you.
Namjoon wonders what sort of relationship the two of you had, and the reason why the Black Rose left for you.
When he stares at you from across the table, he sees the determination in your eyes, as well as the trust you hold for a man he does not personally know. So you do know how to trust people outside your gang after all.
“Fine.” There’s no reason to refuse you. At the end of the day, he still needs intel on his brother.
With a satisfied smile resting on your face, you stand from your seat. “Great. I’ll see you in London next week.”
.
.
.
“You’re planning to what?” Mingyu is quick to look at you with alarm, his expression screaming protest. “Live out the fantasy he so wanted long ago?” He repeats your words with a disbelief scoff. “I’m not letting you do that.”
“You have no right to protest.”
“I’m your underboss, I have every right to protest.”
“Please my lady, can’t you think of something else?” Yuna speaks up, her lips forming into a tight frown when she looks your way.
“This is the only way to take down Hwang Leehyun and you know it,” you say against their dismay, standing firm in on your decision no matter what they say. “That man thrives off control and if I can manipulate him into thinking he can take me, we’ll have our score settled and I’ll have taken another man down. He has no reason to suspect me.”
“And if it breaks you?”
You laugh sarcastically at Mingyu’s words, a dark chuckle leaving your lips. “How do you break again after you’ve already broken? But then again, perhaps you’re right. A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”
“Boss—”
“But I don’t care for that,” you cut him off, the only emotions detected in your eyes are filled with rage and anger. “This is the path I’ve chosen for myself, so whether you like it or not, I will never stop until every last one of them are dead. You have chosen to follow me, do so in silence.”
With that, you turn your back on your Reapers and they know that no matter how against they are with your plans, once your mind is made up, you will never go back on your words.
“And if something goes wrong when I’m with him, I expect you to do nothing.”
You leave them with no room to protest and they can do nothing but watch you from where they stand, a heavy silence hung in the air because they know more than anyone that stopping you is something that can never be done. You live to seek revenge and you will stop at nothing.
Even if that means meeting death on its way.
Even if it will break you even more.
“Boss?” You don’t hear his call even when he runs up to stand before you, an alarming concern marking his features. All you do is stand there, as still as a corpse, with your head lowered and your eyes staring blankly at nothing before you.
Mingyu sees the state you’re in; dressed in a white silky dress, spaghetti straps hanging off your shoulders, disheveled hair, with possessive markings splattered around your skin.
He can feel his hands trembling into a fist as he holds himself back, knowing that whatever he does, he can never let his anger get the best of him. So he settles with trying to reach out for you. You don’t see him, you feel numb and dull, like a living corpse, but when his hand holds out to touch you,
You flinch.
And Mingyu freezes.
His hand hovers in the air, frozen in time, and no matter what anyone tells him, he wants to storm out here right now and land his fist on the very man that did this to you, no matter the consequences.
But he has to consider the consequences because if he tries to do anything to go up against the people that have done you wrong, you will face the consequences and he knows more than anyone that that must never happen.
He wants to protect you yet why is this the only way he can save you?
Why can’t he do more?
Mingyu balls his hand in the air and settles it back to his side, turning to the Reapers that have come along as he clenches his jaws, keeping his emotions at bay.
“Yuna, Dasom. Get her a blanket, clean her up, and take care of her. Make sure she eats well.”
He only addresses the girls and they know. They know why.
Because normally you would never flinch in the presence of Mingyu. Never.
“Yes, Mingyu.”
“Yes, Mingyu.”
Yuna hurries to grab a soft blanket and drape it over your shoulders, hiding your revealing skin, and the two of them lead you away from the small little group. You follow willingly without protest, as if you can’t even speak, as if your only purpose in this world is to obey and survive.
Right now you cannot make a decision for yourself, right now you’re numb, you’ve locked yourself out from the world, eyes nothing but dull, empty sockets. Right now you are lost.
Lost in your broken, empty mind.
This is your body’s way of protecting yourself.
Yuna turns to Mingyu, her hand held against his shirt to grab his attention, and a tremor falls in her hand as her grip holds tight.
“I want to save her,” she whispers, a voice barely audible but they hear her. It is a wish they all hold dearly in their hearts. “She…she can’t face him again, Mingyu, not in the same way. Or else…or else…”
“She gave us her command, we can’t go against that,” the second in command states, his emotions held back despite it all. “But there are some people who aren’t obligated to go against her.”
“You don’t mean..”
“They’re the only ones we can rely on to bring Y/N back,” he says despite Dasom’s disapproving glare. “At least we can trust in Jung Hoseok, if anyone.”
.
.
.
“I ask that you protect her well.”
Namjoon sits in his chair, a silent stare at the man who bows before him, and when he looks over at Hoseok, the older man just spares him a silent glance, unsure of what was going on as well.
“You don’t think those are the obligations between two allies, do you?”
“I’m serious,” Mingyu says, his words firm and heavy without an ounce of jest in them. “This mission may as well be one of the most difficult ones my boss will have to face, yet I am not allowed to interfere with her plans.”
“And why is that?” Seokjin asks.
“Because she knows that if I were to be there with her, I may as well stop her and in short, ruin the plan of revenge. Whatever you do, do not stop her, however…” he holds his jaw in, fingers held in a tight fist behind him, “save her…if it so gets to that point.”
The man before them is a man who’s been through a lot, who watched over you and cared for you, a man who truly hopes for nothing but the best out of you. He frets over your safety, concern clearly marked on his face, yet as your subordinate, he is obligated to heed your every order.
“If you’re that worried about her, why don’t you try harder to have her revise her plan? Or better yet, persuade her to leave this be?” Namjoon asks, genuinely curious about his strange resolve.
“Because this is the only way I can save her,” Mingyu says, his expression a sharp, piercing seriousness. “She may be impulsive at times, maybe even bloodthirsty and cruel in her ways of only seeking revenge towards the people that have wronged her, but Y/N’s ambition lies in wanting to seek peace. You and I will never understand her heart but she holds her resolves and she holds her morals and I have every intention of giving everything I can to see her ambition come to pass. I believe that is why I follow her. She has saved me so I will do all that I can to save her. And if saving her means stepping back and having you take care of things for the moment…I hold no protest.”
So that’s how it is.
Both Mingyu and the rest of the Reapers refuse to stand in the way of your dreams. They have sworn themselves to you, from whatever point you’ve met and managed to steal their hearts and souls.
You have a way with people. Even back then when you held no ambitions in killing people, the authority you held had never dissipated. There’s something about you that people can never forget, no matter who they are, and you will always leave an impression in the end.
The Reapers now, your Reapers, are different from any other followers they have ever seen before. They heed your every word, holding them as if they were laws of the world, never to go against you, coming to you the instant you call their names. Loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. And the Reapers’ loyalty lies much deeper than that. This isn’t just simple loyalty, this is something much deeper than they can ever imagine.
You saved him, Mingyu stated, which meant you saved the rest of them as well, and in turn, they’ve vowed their lives to you.
“So as someone who cares deeply for Y/N and as people who once held her at the center of the world,” he looks at them with a pointed stare, eyes refusing to look away or even blink, “don’t you think you should at least give her what she deserves?”
Your hand hit the bed once again as tears continued to fall down your cheeks, finding yourself getting more and more frustrated with every passing second. Namjoon was fast asleep beside you, easy to tell from the loud snores that continued to escape from him, leaving you wide awake.
Your hormones were all over the place at the best of times, but the fear of getting no sleep was beginning to tip you over the edge. You didn’t know what to do, sighing continuously only for nothing to give, if anything, for it just to get worse instead.
As your hand came down against the bed once again as another huge snore came from Namjoon, the bed finally rocked. “What are you doing?” A groggy voice mumbled as you finally managed to make Namjoon stir.
“I’m going to batter you,” you said, sniffing back your tears.
His head immediately turned to look at you as you spoke, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Why?” He asked, completely unaware of what it was that he had done, only seeing your hands come up to wipe underneath your eyes.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look across at the clock, worried how many hours you’d wasted being entertained by Namjoon snoring. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement, you felt like you were running on empty.
After so many restless weeks through your pregnancy, the night was really when you tried to shut your eyes for a little while. Most nights, you managed to settle relatively easily, but Namjoon had other ideas for you tonight.
“I am fed up with listening to you snore,” you sniffled, slightly looking across at him, “I’m tired Joon, I’ve been awake all night because of you.”
His heart sunk as you spoke, having not realised at any point in the night that he was snoring. He quickly reached across and took a hold of your hand, holding onto you tightly as you tried your best to compose yourself and stop your tears from falling.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, offering you a small smile. “You should have woken me Y/N, you could have kicked me or anything to get me to wake up.”
Little did Namjoon know just how much you had tried to get him to wake up, only to fail miserably. He was well and truly asleep, unsurprising considering how hard he had been working recently.
“Have you really not managed to sleep at all tonight?” He nervously asked you, letting go of a sigh when your head nodded dejectedly in response to his question.
The guilt quickly caught up with him, knowing how restless you got without any sleep inside of you. You were reaching the point where your baby wriggling around was starting to leave you disturbed almost every night, with little room for sleep.
Namjoon’s eyes remained on you, reaching across with his free hand to pull the duvet up around you properly. “I can go and sleep in the spare room,” he offered, trying his best to fix the situation, “or maybe just on the sofa?”
Your head shook back at Namjoon, the last thing that you wanted to do was force him out of his own bedroom. It was one night, you could forgive him for just one night, even if your hormones wanted to fuss about it.
“If I’m annoying you, I don’t mind going,” Namjoon continued to assure you, squeezing against your hand. “You’re almost seven months pregnant Y/N, you need to make sure that you get some sleep, you can’t just lay awake.”
All you had done through the night was lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Before you knew it the tears started falling, never knowing yourself to get as angry towards Namjoon as you were whilst he snored beside you.
“I’m too hormonal to decide what I want right now,” you lightly chuckled in reply to him.
A laugh came from Namjoon too, having realised first hand just how indecisive you were. You could never decide to do what made you happy or what made you emotional, whether you wanted to laugh or whether you just wanted to cry.
His head nodded understandingly as you spoke up again. “This is your bed and I’d hate for you to sleep somewhere else all by yourself. At the same time, your snoring is driving me up the wall like nothing else has done before.”
“You need to do what helps you to sleep Y/N,” Namjoon reminded you.
“I don’t know what that is,” you sniggered, “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to sleep not having you right beside me.”
Namjoon’s smile continued to grow as you tried to balance out what you wanted to do. You constantly felt as if you were being in pulled two different directions, your head wanted sleep, but your heart didn’t want to be alone.
“How about this,” Namjoon began to say, “we’ll try one more time to fall asleep and if I start snoring then you can wake me up, no matter how much you hurt me, and I’ll go and sleep in a different room in the house.”
“With how loud your snoring is tonight I think I’ll hear you in any room of the house,” you laughed back across to him.
“Was it really that bad?” He asked you in surprise, stunned to see your head nodding in reply to him. You couldn’t even begin to describe how bad Namjoon’s snoring was, just that it felt like you were living in a nightmare.
“How about I try and fall asleep, and you stay awake for twenty minutes and then close your eyes?” You suggested, “give me time to drift off?”
Namjoon’s head nodded in reply to you, happy to go along with whatever you felt would help you finally get some rest. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to stay up for that long, but he was willing to give it a try just for you.
“And by the way, tomorrow we’re going out to buy something that helps snoring,” you added, “I don’t care how much it costs, we’re fixing your stupid snoring.”
Another laugh escaped from him as Namjoon realised just how serious you were. It was only a one-time thing so far, but you were far too exhausted to ever let it happen again, feeling your hormones toss and turn all over the place.
He had a busy day, but he was sure that he could squeeze in a bit of time to make life easier for you. “When I go to work tomorrow, I’ll make sure to ask Jungkook about what he uses when his snoring gets bad and get some for myself.”
Your head immediately nodded back at Jungkook, the frustrated side of you that was screaming out for sleep wanted him to try anything to make sure tonight never repeated itself.
“Why don’t you try and close your eyes again?” Namjoon asked you, noticing you beginning to get quite quiet beside him. “I’ll sit on my phone for a while until I’m sure that you’re asleep and then I’ll go to sleep too.”
Your head nodded still as you began to make yourself comfortable, finally feeling for the first time that night as if you had a chance to finally get a little bit of rest in you.
“I’m sorry that you’ve not been able to sleep so far,” Namjoon weakly smiled across at you.
“I’m sorry too, perhaps I reacted a little bit too harshly, and emotionally.”
“At least you can blame that on your hormones,” Namjoon joked, “what can I blame snoring on?”
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